The Sixth Man (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 5)

“By the way, Murdock already knows the truth about you.”

“That’s impossi—” She caught herself too late.

“Say what you will about the FBI, they do tend to get the right answer.”

“I need you to leave. Now.”

He turned to the door. “One more thing—the Bureau has a tap on your phone and your e-mail.”

“Why warn me about that?”

“In the hopes that you come to your senses and want to make a deal with me instead of them.” He let that sink in. “Carla? Are you getting any of this?”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Fine. Just don’t take too long.”

Sean walked down the street and climbed into the Land Cruiser he had earlier parked there. He started the engine and sped off. After he was out of sight of Dukes’s house, Michelle, who’d been hiding in the back of the truck, climbed into the passenger seat.

“Everything go okay?” asked Sean.

“Easy. She should watch the garage door come all the way down before she goes in the house. I was able to sneak in behind her.”

Sean checked his watch. “Okay, I spooked her about her phone and e-mail. Now she has only one avenue of communication.”

“Face-to-face. But if she believes she can’t communicate via phone or e-mail how will Dukes arrange a meeting?”

“Coded text, probably. Innocuous on its face, it’ll set up a time at a prearranged place.” He stared down at the electronic tracking device cradled in her hand. “What’s the range on that?”

“Couple of miles. Plenty for our purposes, even in the great wilds of Maine.”

“Where’d you put the bug?”

“On the underside of the rear windshield wiper mechanism. Nobody ever looks there. Then I just climbed out the garage window. I’m actually getting good at that.”

“So now we wait,” said Sean.

“I don’t think it’ll be for long.” She eyed the device more closely. “Looks like she’s already on the move. Boy, you really did scare her.”

“I had my lawyer hat on. We naturally scare the crap out of everybody.”

CHAPTER

37

AFTER LANDING at LaGuardia and being driven into the city Peter Bunting did not go home to his lovely, socially active wife and his three privileged and accomplished children at their luxurious Fifth Avenue brownstone across from Central Park.

Nor did he return to his office. He had somewhere else to go because he was focused on keeping Edgar Roy alive.

And probably me, too.

He walked fifteen blocks to a rundown six-story building well off the famous boulevards of Manhattan. He took care to avoid being followed, going into lobbies of buildings and exiting by different ways. In the lower level of the six-story building was a pizzeria. In the upper levels were offices for small businesses. On the very top level were two rooms. He took the stairs and knocked.

The man ushered him in and closed the door behind him. Bunting moved through into the next room. The man followed him and closed the door to this room too. He motioned for Bunting to sit on a chair set next to a small table.

Bunting did so, unbuttoning his suit jacket and trying to get comfortable in a chair that was not designed for comfort. The man

remained standing.