Last Call

THEO CABBED IT BACK to Gilford's apartment. He hadn't bothered to ask Jack, but he surmised that it was his car's Lojack system that had had given away his location. It was easy enough to taxi around that problem – literally.

Lance Gilford was right where Theo had left him, gagged and hoe-tied in his garage. Coming this close to drilling through the guy's skull had given Theo pause. He knew that Gilford could hold the key to finding Cy, but Theo didn't want to act out of emotion. A little time alone in the Coconut Grove ghetto had given him a chance to clear his head and devise a plan – the kind of plan that could involve neither Jack nor Andie, neither lawyers nor the FBI.

Theo put his gun to Gilford's head. "Time to call Fernando Redden."

Gilford nodded eagerly as if willing to do anything to avoid a bullet in the head – or worse, a drill bit. Theo told him exactly what to say and Gilford nodded once more. Then Theo removed the gag, got the number from Gilford, and dialed on Gilford's phone. No one answered at Redden's house. They tried his cell. Jackpot.

"What the hell is it now, Lance?"

"Sorry," said Gilford.

Theo put his ear next to Gilford's so that he could hear.

"Sorry, nothin'. It's one o'clock in the morning."

"I know. I-" Gilford took a breath, and Theo feared he was losing his nerve. Theo glanced at the tool chest – the drill bits – and Gilford fell right back into line, following Theo's script to the letter. "Theo Knight was just here."

Redden was silent. His tone changed dramatically. "Why?"

"He's mad as hell about something. Wouldn't say what. But he gave me something to give to you. It's in an envelope. Kind of feels like a videotape."

"Put it in your machine right now. Tell me what's on it."

"Forget it. I already know more than I want to know. You come here and get it."

"I can't," he said, and the strain in his voice was audible. "I got… there's something going on."

"At this hour?"

"Just – yeah, at this hour. I need you to bring it to me."

Gilford looked at Theo. A road trip wasn't in the script, so a little improvisation was in order. Theo nodded his approval. "Okay. I'll bring it to you. You at your house?"

"No. I'm out at the barn, you'll have to come here." Redden seemed to sense how strange that must have sounded in the middle of the night. "I got a sick foal. Can't leave."

"Where's your barn?"

Redden told him. It was in horse country south Miami-Dade County not far from Sparky's Tavern. Theo knew the general area. He flashed five digits, four times.

Gilford said, "I can be there in twenty minutes."

Theo gave him the cut signal. Gilford said a quick "See ya," and Theo hit the end button.

Theo untied Gilford's feet, kept his hands bound, and nudged him toward Gilford's car with his pistol. "Come on," said Theo. "We gotta look after a sick foal."

Neither man needed to ask if its name was Cy

Chapter 47

Fernando Redden tucked his cell into his pocket and went back inside the barn.

HAPP-Y Stables seemed like the perfect place to keep Cyrus Knight. It was secluded, butting up against a palm-tree nursery on one side and a tomato farm on the other, and it was near Redden's private plane at Tamiami Airport, just in case something went wrong. And there were plenty of places to hide away a hostage. Redden slid open the barn door and closed it. His pupils were adjusted to the night, so he didn't turn on the lights. A horse neighed in the darkness.

"Easy, girl," he said.

The stable had stalls for twenty-four horses, a dozen on each side of the long center aisle. Redden owned a dozen thoroughbreds, with plans to acquire more. He also owned the barn, the paddocks, and the surrounding acres of fenced pasture. He'd purchased the entire package for $7.5 million. Every pe

Happy was not his mood at the moment, however.

"Moses!" he said, his voice rattling off the barn's tin roof.

Moses emerged from the stablehand's quarters at the far end of the stable. He was barely visible in the darkness, and it was only the sound of his footfalls on the concrete floor that enabled Redden to discern his approaching silhouette. With horses on either side of them, they needed only the jangle of spurs to look like two gunfighters squaring off at midnight outside the proverbial Gold Dust Saloon.

Moses stopped and leaned against the hitching post. "What's up, my man?"

"An old friend of mine just called," said Redden.

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Then why tell me?"

"He's on his way over here. Says he has a video for me. It's from Theo Knight. You know anything about it?"

"Uh-uh," said Moses.

Redden went for his gun, but Moses moved like lightening to draw his weapon and pressed the barrel up under Redden's chin.

Redden flashed a stupid, nervous smile. "What…what are you doing?"

"You were go

"No – no, no.”

Redden hadn't been this scared in years – maybe ever. But he was also furious with himself. Part of him wanted Moses dead, and he wanted to be the one to pull the trigger. Moses had been so convincing in selling an alliance with O-Town Posse. Unless Redden wanted to go to jail, he would eventually have to pay back millions to the Housing Agency. The drug trade's promise of a 200 percent return on investment would allow him to do that without liquidating his ill-gotten real estate. But Moses and his gang had proved to be nothing but trouble.

"What you want to pull a gun on me for?" said Moses. I wasn’t -

Moses pushed the gun up tighter beneath his chin. "Cut the bullshit. You got a problem with me, you spit it out. Now!'

"Okay" he said, his voice quaking. "It's just, you know, our arrangement is starting to feel like a one-way street."

"Stop talking like you're on fucking Oprah. What's your problem?"

"All right, I'll say it. You and your O-Town Posse have delivered on nothing. I gave you serious money, and I've still got nothing to show for it. I had to eliminate Reems, you dropped the ball on Knight. I got you out of TGK on bail, you went and killed a state trooper. It goes on and on. That's my problem."

Moses gave him a little smile, as if impressed that Redden had the guts to say it. He withdrew his weapon and let Redden stand easy.

"It's coming together, dude," said Moses. "I was just in Atlanta, talking to my contacts. You'll get your return on your money. And I'll personally take care of Knight."

"Good," said Redden, as he massaged away the imprint of Moses' barrel under his chin. "But there's actually something I'd like you to take care of before that."

"What?"

"Lance Gilford," said Redden.

"Who's Lance Gilford?"

"He's a pain in the ass," said Redden. "And it's time he was gone.

THEO RODE IN THE backseat of Gilford's car all the way to HAPP-Y Stables. Gilford drove well for a man with a loaded 9-millimeter Glock pressed against the base of his skull. Redden's instructions were to meet him at the end of the long driveway that led to the barn. The emphasis was on long. The final half-mile of winding dirt road seemed to last forever. But Theo knew it wasn't just about distance. The adrenaline was pumping, the anticipation building, like a D-day landing.