Changing the subject, he asked, “What do you think of my new stewardess, or whatever the hell they call themselves these days?” He pointed to the young woman who had poured their coffee.
“Cute, but definitely not my type.” Cain waggled her hand at Vincent.
He laughed again and made a mental promise to have dinner with Cain soon. He loved spending time talking with her. “Why not, too blond?”
“Vincent, you and I know one of my main weaknesses, as it were, is women of the blond persuasion.”
“True, so what is it about her?”
“Graduate of Quantico, class of ’98, I believe. There are so many of these young arling running around it’s hard to keep them all straight. Her being here, though, gives me a hint as to who’s next on Kyle’s to-do list, or at least his replacement’s once he manages to apprehend me.”
“Are you sure I can’t marry you off to Vinny?”
“Not my type either.”
“I know you wouldn’t insult me by asking, but we swept before we boarded and the crew’s checked methodically before boarding, so all she can report is where and who I met with. The problem for her is, no one else knows we left the city, and I’m the only one with a phone.”
“Mind if I give it a shot before you treat her to a swim?”
Vincent put his coffee cup down and waved a hand in the woman’s direction. “Be my guest.” He reached into his shirt pocket and handed over a fistful of small chips. Listening devices courtesy of the blonde in the tight skirt, each one missing its battery.
Outside, Patrick stepped to the helicopter and tapped on the pilot’s door. “Cold out tonight, huh?”
He watched the man at the controls try to hide the pad he had probably written the plane’s name and identification numbers on. “It’ll only get worse, believe me. I’m glad for the business tonight since winter’s usually my dead season.”
Funny you should mention dead, Patrick thought, and laughed softly. “How are Bonnie, Leo, and John?”
The question didn’t sound threatening, by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn’t meant to be, but it grabbed the man’s complete attention, and he came forward out of his seat as if in a panic. “Fine, but how do you know my wife and kids?”
“Your job is to fly, mine is to know stuff about you and your family. See, when you get back to the arlin town you’re from, most likely there’ll be these guys who’ll want to know all about your grand adventure tonight. With me so far?”
The pilot resembled a bobbing child’s toy, his head was moving so much. “Yes, sir.”
“You tell them anything remotely interesting, like our talk right now for example, and I’ll come back. Only it won’t be just me, and it won’t be to talk. After I’ve done my job you won’t feel like such a hero for handing over the information, and you’ll have only yourself to blame for what’s going to happen to Bonnie and those two cute boys of yours. So now would be a good time to tell me how you spent your time out here all alone, stupid.”
The pilot handed over the pad he had used, then pleaded tearfully with Patrick to leave his family alone.
Just once he wanted one of these guys to show some backbone, but the crying always replaced the smug machismo they so obviously felt as they sat outside meetings like this and planned how they would spend the reward money. The fantasies of seeing their overweight wives in a bikini on some beach in Hawaii seemed to override their brains concerning who they would be turning in.
“Take a deep breath, Mr. Jones, and try and calm down. To tell you the truth, I want to leave here tonight and never come back. This cold weather frankly sucks, so just remember what we talked about. That way I can stay home and work on my tan, and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do in the course of a day. Make me put this coat on again to hunt your ass down, and you’re going to wish your parents never met.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I’m not going to say anything.” The reassurance came out after a series of hiccups and a couple of swipes at his face.
Patrick pulled a bottle of water from his coat pocket and handed it over. The last thing he needed was for this guy to kill Cain from nerves on the way back. “Just a few more minutes and we’ll be on our way. Try and remember the big plane over there has windows.”
Chapter Sixteen
The atmosphere in the plane became a little more tense when Vincent called the young woman who stood near the cockpit over to them. Throughout their conversation she had tried to listen in without being too overtly obvious, but she wasn’t concerned. Whatever she missed, the bugs she had planted would fill in the gaps. Being there to witness the meeting between two of the main figures who ran the city’s underworld was enough for her, and would play well in court when the time came.
“What’s your name again, arling’?” Vincent asked when the blonde leaned over to await his order.
“Shelby, Mr. Carlotti. Shelby Phillips.”
“Cain, meet Shelby. She’s filling in for my usual girl until she gets back from having her second baby.”
“I’m impressed, Vincent, giving maternity leave. What’s next, a dental plan?” Cain joked as she looked at what could be a dead woman standing.
“We’re looking into it, smart-ass. Shelby, this is my friend Cain.” He pointed to Cain and saw the condescending expression the agent quickly tried to hide. “Cain was wondering if she could have a private conversation with you back in the office.”
“If it’s just a talk she’s interested in, I’d be happy to.” Shelby turned to Cain, plastered a fake smile in place, and asked, “Ms…?”
“Derby Cain Casey. That’s C-A-S-E-Y. Do you also need my social and date of birth for the record?”
It happened so quickly Shelby didn’t notice when she lost control of the situation, but she felt a tiny line of perspiration break out along her forehead. Remembering her training, she took a deep breath and tried to make her smile look more genuine. After all, the instructor who had lectured on undercover techniques had said most of the people they would be trying to bring in didn’t have enough brain cells to string a correct sentence together.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be presumptuous and call you by your first name.”
“Of course not. Do you mind if I call you Shelby, Ms. Phillips?”
“Please do.” Cain led the way to the small room Vincent used as an office when he was on the plane and sat in the old man’s chair.
“Shelby, have a seat.” Cain pointed to one of the other two chairs available. “Can I get you anything?”
She laughed and pointed her index finger at Cain. “That’s my line, Ms. Casey. That’s my job here, remember?”
“Please, feel free to call me Cain. And I don’t really know your purpose for being on this plane, but that’s what we’re here to find out.”
The urge to wipe her brow was becoming overwhelming, but she didn’t want to show fear. She felt like there was already blood in the water, and a display of weakness would only agitate the sharks swimming in her tank that much more. “I’m filling in, like Mr. Carlotti said.”
“I see, so you graduated in the top 1 percent of your class at Stanford—political science I believe was your major—then from Quantico so you could serve drinks on Vincent Carlotti’s plane. That’s the story you’re telling me?”
“I don’t know—” She was scrambling.
“Please, Agent Daniels, don’t insult me by finishing that sentence. One thing I’m always sure of is what I’m talking about. That was what the last part of your statement was going to be, wasn’t it?”
Shelby felt like crawling out of her skin. She needed to get off this plane and now.
“I asked you a question, Agent, and I would appreciate the courtesy of an answer.”
“Yes, that’s what I was going to say. I think you must have me confused with someone else.”