Chapters (46)
- COVER PAGE
- PRAISE
- DEDICATION
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- SNEAK PEEK: EXIT .45
Vincent said, ‘Like I told you: I can maybe accept you didn’t have Eugene taken out. But I don’t accept you have no idea who did it, or have no idea about the sort of company he kept. So what I suggest is you give me some ideas about who to talk to, and then I can tell the PD and the Sheriffs and the State Police and the Marshals that you’re probably not involved. Otherwise, I can tell them you seemed hell bent on killing Lamar this morning, and maybe you’re down here playing golf to give a false impression you’ve got nothing to do with anything.’
There was a cart approaching from the direction of the clubrooms, a man alone at the wheel.
Sly said, ‘I don’t know why you’ve got such a hard-on for me.’
‘How’d you meet Lamar?’
‘He’s a member here.’
‘And what, you just hooked up and decided to go into business?’
Sly blocked a nostril and huffed something on the grass.
The cart was still incoming, and Vincent saw now that it was the waiter who’d spoken to him earlier. The guy pulled up fifteen feet away.
‘Sir, you haven’t signed in at the desk. And I’m afraid your attire is non-compliant.’
Vincent said, ‘You didn’t mention that earlier.’
The guy seemed to notice Sly for the first time. ‘Sir, is everything all right?’
Sly said, ‘Yeah, terrific.’
Vincent said to Sly, ‘Who do I need to talk to? The better the lead, the better I can persuade people that you’re not culpable.’
That didn’t go down too well with the waiter. ‘Sir, please. Or I’ll have you removed.’
Vincent said, ‘The Marshal gave me a card. I’m going to call him when I’m done here.’
Sly had his head down, looking at the blood in the grass. ‘Ask Terry Page about it.’
‘Who’s Terry Page?’
‘Look him up in the fucking phone book, pal. Honestly.’
‘Sir, I’m calling nine-one-one.’
Vincent said, ‘I’ll see you around, Sly. Phone the police if you see Andre.’ He looked at the gun over on the grass, out of sight from the waiter. ‘Tell them you almost shot a thirty-eight on the back nine.’
FIFTEEN
FIFTEEN
When he got back to the Range Rover, he found a missed call on his cell: the security man—Lamar’s previous guy—calling him back. Vincent drove out of the club grounds so he wouldn’t be hassled about the dress code and pulled up at the kerb out on the public road. He tried the guy’s number again.
‘Hello?’ A woman’s voice.
Vincent said, ‘This is Vincent.’
‘Oh, right. You called earlier.’ A hint of Boston in the voice: called was cawled.
Vincent said, ‘Yes, I did. I was hoping to speak to—’