BooksBarbecue
Back Season of Fear
Chapters (67)
  1. Contents
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONETHE EXTREMES
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. PART TWOSOMETHING BAD
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. PART THREECHAYLA
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. PART FOURHIT AND RUN
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. EPILOGUE
  67. AUTHOR’S NOTE

There was a long pause. He could almost hear the calculations in the man’s mind. Risk assessments. Greed. Eventually, greed always won out.

‘Let’s say Tuesday then,’ the man said. ‘The Picnic Island pier. After dark.’

‘I’ll be there.’

He hung up the phone. Everything was coming together now. Soon it would be Independence Day. Soon Chayla would roar like an animal across the land. The storm’s violence would protect him. He would strike again, the way he had once before. And then they would finally have what they’d always wanted.

Power.

PART TWO

SOMETHING BAD

17

Cab expected the Pilot House at the Tampa Yacht Club to be crowded for Monday lunch. Instead, the room was empty. Attorney General Ramona Cortes sat alone at a table tucked into an oval cubbyhole at the back of the dining room. The walls around her were paneled in light oak and decorated with sailing flags. The bay windows were blocked by wooden shutters. Through the slats, he glimpsed the water.

Ramona put down her copy of the Tribune and got to her feet as he approached. ‘Cab,’ she said. ‘What a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming.’

Cab smiled. ‘I didn’t think it was optional.’

‘It wasn’t. Not really.’

‘No campaign aides?’ he asked. ‘Just us?’

‘I like my privacy on certain matters.’ Ramona gestured at the empty dining room. ‘The restaurant is closed today, but they make an exception for me when I’m in town. I work out, and then I have lunch and dial for dollars. Fundraising is a never-ending process. Order whatever you want. I’m having tomato basil soup and grilled cheese.’

‘That sounds delicious.’

A waiter hovered. Ramona held up two slim fingers, and he nodded and disappeared. A fresh iced latte sat in front of Cab’s place setting. Apparently, his tastes were predictable. Ramona sipped club soda with a squeeze of lime from a highball glass.

The Attorney General was polite, but with a no-nonsense demeanor. When she smiled, it was with her lips; she didn’t grin. She was in her early forties, small, with delicate hands and a trim physique. If there was any gray in her bobbed black hair, she’d erased it. She had a V-pointed chin and hooked nose, and her dark eyes were sharp and confident. She wore a tailored charcoal suit, which looked every bit as expensive as the one Cab was wearing.