Lethal (Lee Coburn)
Page 88
“What are you doing?”
Before she’d even finished asking, he was out of the wheelhouse. When she reached the deck, he was lowering himself over the side of the boat into the knee-deep water. “Coburn!”
“Can’t leave the truck back there.” He hesitated, then, swearing under his breath, pulled her cell phone and its battery from his pocket. “I guess I should leave you a phone. Just in case something happens to me. But I’m trusting you not to use it. If you have to call someone, call 911 and only 911.” He passed her the two components.
“How do you…”
“Lucky for us, yours is an older phone. It’s easier to do than with the newer models.” He removed the back of her phone and demonstrated how to replace the battery. “Line up the gold bars, snap it into place. Emily could do it.” His eyes met hers. “But—”
“I promise I won’t unless you don’t come back.”
He bobbed his head once, then turned away from the boat.
He slogged his way to solid ground, then disappeared into the undergrowth.
Diego was shopping in a Mexican supermarket when his cell phone vibrated again. He stepped outside the store to answer. “You ready for me?”
“Yes,” The Bookkeeper said. “I want you to watch someone for the next couple of days.”
“What? Watch someone?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“What about Coburn?”
“Just do as I tell you, Diego. The man’s name is Bonnell Wallace.”
Who cared what the hell his name was? It wasn’t Coburn. Before he could voice his objections, he was given two addresses, one for a bank on Canal Street, the other a residence in the Garden District. It wasn’t explained to him why this man needed watching, and actually, Diego didn’t give a flip. It was a bullshit job.
With exaggerated boredom, he asked, “Do you want him to know he’s being watched?”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know when another move is called for. If one is called for.”
“Okay.” His cavalier tone didn’t escape The Bookkeeper.
“Am I keeping you from something, Diego?”
Yeah, he thought. You’re keeping me from a high-paying hit. Instead he put The Bookkeeper on the defensive. “I haven’t been paid for the massage parlor girl.”
“I don’t have proof that she’s dead.”
“What, you want me to send you her head in a box like those vultures in Mexico do?”
“No need to go that far. But I haven’t seen anything on the news about a body being found.”
“It won’t be. I saw to that.”
“But you didn’t give me any details.”
“Like what?”
“When you tracked her down, was anyone with her?”
“No. She was soliciting conventioneers there where the riverboats dock.”
“The Moonwalk.”
“Whatever.”