Mortal Prey

"That's what I'm go

"Yeah." He was typing like crazy, the computer keys rattling in the phone.

"Okay. Here's how I prove who I am. I called him this morning about ten o'clock from East St. Louis and talked to him about the case. He told me that his fiancйe is pregnant. I called him at the FBI building."

"Pregnant. Jesus. Are you kidding? Is this really Rinker?" His voice was rising; he was starting to believe.

"Yeah. This is Rinker. If you call Davenport and ask him about his fiancйe, he'll confirm that I called him and that nobody else could know about it. About that part of the discussion. Now, I have a statement, okay?"

"Go."

"What?"

"Go with the statement," White said.

"Oh. Okay. Um, the FBI arrested my brother Gene in California on some made-up drug charge. Gene isn't right in the head. He never has been. He's not stupid, but he's just not in this world, you got that? And he's claustrophobic. They are torturing him by putting him in jail. He's an i

"Go ahead."

"That's all I've got."

"You say the drug charges are bullshit?"

"You sure swear a lot, for the telephone," Rinker said.

"Sorry. I'm kind of excited."

"Okay. Ask them, the FBI, about the charge on Gene. Gene never had more than a single doobie in his whole poor life. He never had more than ten dollars. When was the last time you saw somebody dragged from California to St. Louis in orange prison overalls and chains because he had a doobie?"

"Okay."

"Oh, and something else. The FBI are all over a guy named Andy Levy from First Heartland, because they think I'm going to kill him next. But I'm not going to. Andy used to handle money for me, but he hasn't for a long time. I just wanted to talk to him."

"First Heartland?"

"Yes. Andy's a vice president at First Heartland, and he does the banking for the Mafia here in St. Louis. The FBI knows that, and they've got him protected because they hope they can catch me. But they're wasting their time. I've got no interest in Andy."

"Holy shit. First Heartland."

"There you go again."

"Sorry, but listen… Who are you going to kill next? I'd like to send a photographer."

Rinker laughed-almost like a quick cough. The guy had some balls. "I gotta go."

"Let me read this back."

"I don't have time. But you talk to Davenport."

"I don't… What, uh… why in the hell is a guy from Mi

"The FBI brought him down because they think he's the most likely guy to catch me."

"Are they right?"

"Maybe. But he hasn't caught me yet, and he's had his chances."

RINKER ARRIVED BACK at Pollock's in time to see Pollock climb the porch steps and then disappear inside. She pulled her car in a tight U-turn, took it down the dirt driveway to the garage, hopped out, lifted the door, and parked. When she let herself into the house, Pollock was in the kitchen. Pollock leaned into her line of sight and called, "You okay?"

"I'm good," Rinker said.

"Got a hornet's nest going," Pollock said.

Rinker looked at her for a minute, then said, "If you think I should go…"

"I just think you should lay low for a few days," Pollock said. She came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. "I heard on the radio about you calling the FBI. There are cops all over that truck stop, if that was really you."

"It's on TV?"

"It's everywhere on TV," Pollock said. "They're taking fingerprints, they're talking to witnesses. They're making a sketch of you from witnesses."

"All right," Rinker said. "Soon as it gets dark, I'm go

"I don't want to know where you're going."

But she did; and Rinker said, "A

"I been there. I don't remember no garden," Pollock said.

"That's okay, because I'm not going after carrots," Rinker said. "I'm going to see an old Army buddy."

11

Malone had put together an approach to Levy, and one of the feds was doing a PowerPoint presentation on Levy's co

The team was taking questions when a silent strobe began flashing on a phone on a corner table. Malone was irritated by the interruption, but she was closest. She leaned back and picked up the receiver, listened for a second, and then looked at Lucas. "Marcy wants to talk to you. Problem at your office," she said in a quiet voice. She'd met Marcy during the Rinker investigation in Mi

"Sorry. She should have called me on the cell." Lucas walked around the table and took the call, half-turned his back to the guy making the presentation, pushed the hold button, and said, quietly, "Marcy?"

"Lucas?" Didn't sound like Marcy, unless she'd developed a cold.

"Yeah… Is this Marcy?"

"No, actually it's not, Lucas."

It took him just a second. In that second, he remembered what she smelled like, the nice smell of perfume and a little beer, the time they danced in her Wichita saloon. "How've you been?"

Lucas started waving frantically at Mallard, who looked puzzled for a second, then caught on. He said, silently, miming the name with his lips, "Rinker?"

Lucas nodded, but missed part of what Rinker had said. He caught, "… you should know about that."

Around him, the feds were scrambling for phones and one man dashed out the door, a yellow legal pad spi

"Yeah, I heard you were hit pretty bad," Lucas said. His heart was pounding, but he thought, Cool down, cool down. She's too smart to give herself away. He groped for something that would make a human co

One of the feds looked up at that and gave him the thumb-and-forefinger attaboy circle-sign. He could hear Malone mumbling into a phone: "Need an immediate trace on the call…"

Rinker said, "Your fiancйe-anybody I'd know?"

"No. She's a doctor. Pretty tough girl. You'd probably like her."

"Maybe… but to cut the b.s., I just wanted to call you and to tell you to keep Gene out of this. I knew the federales were going to get involved, I wasn't surprised when I saw that woman Malone in the paper, but we all know that Gene isn't quite right. Putting him in jail won't help anything. I'm not going to come in-you can't blackmail me. But you can tell whoever's ru