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“I do believe you are going to be on the hook for damages, Agent Nichols.”
Dale shrugged. “Worse things have happened.”
“And will again, I’m sure,” Lester said. He pulled out a butterfly knife and flipped it open.
“Memento from the streets?” Dale wanted more of Lester’s attention, wanted to buy time. Surely someone on staff had heard the commotion and called police.
It was a sad day if he was relying on the kindness of strangers.
“In a manner of speaking,” Lester replied as he stared lovingly at the gleaming silver blade. He threw the knife to the floor, right through the top of Dale’s bare foot.
The pain lanced up through Dale’s leg, hot as lightning. He winced and applied himself to the nearly insurmountable task of keeping still. Any flinch would do more damage. He was literally stuck in place.
“Oh dear,” Lester deadpanned. “Where have you stashed the woman?”
Dale shook his head. “Told you. She’s not here.” His breath hissed out between his teeth. He’d been through worse. As long as they didn’t get Heather or the evidence, he could tolerate Lester’s bullying. “I’m surprised you’re so involved in your operation.”
“Hands on has always been my preferred approach.”
“It works for some.”
“From this point on, you need only care that it works for me. As will you.”
“She’s not here, boss,” Thing One told Lester.
“She must be.” Lester stood, turning a slow circle around the room.
Dale smiled, thinking of Heather and her resourcefulness. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but she was gone. Lester’s men had checked the bathroom and the balcony and searched the place again as if she might have magically jumped between hiding places.
Lester walked out onto the balcony and looked down. Dale willed the man to topple over the edge to the beach below. He wished Thing One or Thing Two might have a nervous breakdown and give their boss a push. To his dismay, reality ruled and neither happened.
Which gave him plenty of time to wonder how the hell Heather had escaped.
Lester stepped back inside and swore violently. “Where is she?”
Dale shrugged. “No idea.”
“Find the evidence,” he barked at his men. “Destroy it.”
Dale couldn’t let that happen. “We’ve already sent it on.” He held his ground when Lester wheeled around, glaring at him. “Add that to the statement from the guard who was so very helpful after the dogfight and you will finally see the inside of a prison cell.”
Lester seethed, but his voice was calm. “Never.”
“I’m sure more than a few in your closed ring,” he emphasized the word, “of friends will happily trade information for shorter sentences.”
“What did you say?”
So the rings were as important as he thought. Now he just had to survive long enough to make that detail count. “I said you’re going to jail.” He leaned forward as much as the cuffs allowed. “For a long time.”
“I’ll kill you.” Lester’s fury was a palpable force as his bodyguard’s tossed the room. “Cooperate with me or die. It’s your last chance.”
“Let me think.” Dale stared at the ceiling. “Door number two.”
The blow snapped his head around and would definitely leave a mark. Worse, the force of the hit knocked him back and the knife shifted in his foot. He bit back the scream, managing to keep it to a dull groan.
“You can’t beat me, Nichols. I’ve been at this far too long.”
“Then there should be a nice long list of charges.”
