Lethal (Lee Coburn)
Page 47
“I had no choice. He already had his gun in his hand to—”
“He didn’t even know you were here!”
“—to kill you.”
She sucked in a breath and, after holding it for several seconds, exhaled it in a gust. Her swallow was dry. “That’s impossible.”
“I saw him headed this way in a boat. I doubled back. If I hadn’t, you’d be dead now, and so would your kid. I’d have been accused of two more murders.”
“Why would… why would…?”
“Later. I’ll tell you all of it. But for right now, just believe me when I tell you he would have killed you if I hadn’t killed him first. Okay?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe you. You can’t be a cop.”
“Not a cop.”
“Federal agent?”
“FBI.”
“Even more unlikely.”
“J. Edgar rolls over in his grave every day, but that’s the way it is.”
“Show me your ID.”
“Undercover. Deep cover. No ID. You have to take my word for it.”
She gazed into his hard, cold eyes for several moments, then stammered tearfully, “You spent the last twenty-four hours terrifying me.”
“Part of the shakedown. I had to be convincing.”
“Well, I’m convinced. You’re a criminal.”
“Think about it,” he said angrily. “If I was a killer on the run, you’d have been dead this time yesterday. Fred would have found your body this morning. Your little girl’s, too. Maybe floating in the creek out there, a fish buffet, if she hadn’t been eaten by gators first.”
She hiccupped a sob and looked away from him with revulsion. “You’re worse than a criminal.”
“That’s been said. But for the immediate future, I’m your only chance of staying alive.”
Tears of confusion and fear blurred her vision. “I don’t understand what I have to do with any of this.”
“Not you. Your late husband.” He let go of her with one hand and dug into the front pocket of his jeans, producing the folded sheet of paper she had noticed the day before.
“What is that?”
“Your husband was somehow linked to that killing in the warehouse.”
“Impossible.”
“This might help convince you.” He shook out the folds of the paper, then turned it around so she could read what was written. “Your husband’s name, circled and underlined and with a question mark beside it.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Marset’s office. I sneaked in there one night. Found this entry in an old day planner.”
“That could mean anything.”