The Competition - [93]
Todd had zero patience for Shane’s plight. “Move it, Lefty, we don’t have all night.”
Shane slid into the front seat, and Bailey drove slowly down the dark road. Shane leaned back and studied the scenery. But after a couple of minutes, he sat up and began to rub his hands on his thighs. It was cold, probably no more than forty-five degrees at most, but the moonlight revealed beads of sweat gleaming on his forehead. Shane cleared his throat and pointed to a small body of water to our left that was just below an outcropping of rocks. Perfect cover for Luis and us. Unfortunately, also for whoever might have tagged along with Jax.
Bailey parked facing away from the outcropping and left the headlights on. It was so dark you could barely see your own hand. We climbed up and hid behind the nearest grouping of rocks. Shane sat in the driver’s seat-sans keys, of course. We had a good half hour before Jax was due. I pulled out my cell to see if I could get any signal. Only two bars, but it was better than nothing. I could probably reach Luis if I had to, and if things got bad enough, I’d just yell.
Todd looked over my shoulder. “You playing Angry Birds?”
“Gotta keep my score up. Or…whatever people do.”
“Not my thing either-”
Bailey, who’d planted herself just ahead of us, turned back. “Shut up. Both of you.”
I wanted to call Shane-we’d given him Bailey’s cell-just to do a test run, but at that moment I noticed a moving dust cloud to the left of the outcropping where we hid. Then I heard the engine. A black Escalade came into view. Jax had arrived. He pulled up next to Todd’s car, peered in through the passenger window at Shane, and got out. I couldn’t make out a lot of detail in the darkness, but Jax looked to be in his fifties, about six feet tall and paunchy, in a black leather jacket and khakis. As instructed, Shane walked around to the front of the car and stopped. If Jax joined him there, we’d hear every word. Shane fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, leaned back against the hood, and asked Jax for a light.
Jax sauntered over and flicked his lighter. “Got another one?”
“What? You can’t buy your own?”
“Wife’s trying to get me to quit.” Jax shook his head. “S’only been two days and I’m goin’ crazy.”
Shane shook his head and chuckled, then pulled out another cigarette and gave it to him.
Jax leaned back against the car next to Shane, took a deep, appreciative drag, and blew it out. “So what you got for me?”
“Big name. This guy’s serious. Needs five kilos of yayo.”
“By tomorrow morning?”
Shane nodded.
Jax shook his head. “I can’t get that much. Not that fast. Get him to take two.”
Now I was more convinced than ever that Jax was skimming. Five kilos was big, but not that big. Shane shrugged. “Do what I can. You got the AKs for me?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
This was it. Time to pop the question. Shane took another drag of his cigarette. “Say, you remember that guy I brought with me last time?”
I stopped breathing. Jax paused, flicked the ashes from his cigarette. “Tall, skinny güero in the shades?”
Shane nodded. “That’s him. You see him lately?”
“Nah. Ain’t seen him since that day he came with you.”
How could that be? Shane said he only sold Logan two AKs. So how could Logan have gotten hold of the other two they’d used in the theater shooting? Unless Logan had a second gun connection?
Shane was working it pretty well, but I could hear the strain in his voice. I prayed Jax wouldn’t. “Reason I’m asking is he told me he needed to get in touch with you, and I gave him your number.”
Smart. Shane was putting Jax at ease in case he thought Shane was pissed off for meeting behind Shane’s back.
“No, I din’t see that guy. But I did run into a buddy of his.” Jax pushed off the car and turned toward the Escalade.
“No shit. When was that?”
“Three, maybe four days ago?” Jax took one last drag, then threw the cigarette down and crushed it under his boot. I appreciated the fact that he observed fire safety measures. “I was visiting family, had a bunch of product left over ’cuz another dude stiffed me. Din’t want to take it back over the border. So when the kid called me, said he needed a couple AKs and a forty-four, I figured, what the hell? Green’s green, you know?”
“Hell, yeah. But I just need to know, he was a young dude, right?” Shane asked. “I want to make sure it’s the right guy. ’Cuz if it is, he owes me for the connect.”
Jax started to move toward the Escalade. “Shit, I don’t know. He seemed like maybe twenties. Told me that tall, skinny guy who’s your buddy sent him. Loman…Lofin-”
“Logan?” Shane asked.
“Yeah, that’s it. And the dude gave me your name too, bro’.”
“Huh. Dude give you his name?”
Jax stopped and turned back to Shane. “Said it was…Tim…Timothy something. Don’t remember the last name. What’s up, man?” Jax peered at Shane. “You telling me you don’t know the dude?”
Timothy? I racked my brain, but as far as I knew, the case hadn’t turned up any Timothys.
Shane threw down his cigarette and ground it out. “Probably a phony name. I don’t know any Timothys. What’d he look like?”
First in a new series from bestselling author and famed O. J. Simpson trial prosecutor Marcia Clark, a "terrific writer and storyteller" (James Patterson).Samantha Brinkman, an ambitious, hard-charging Los Angeles criminal defense attorney, is struggling to make a name for herself and to drag her fledgling practice into the big leagues. Sam lands a high-profile double-murder case in which one of the victims is a beloved TV star – and the defendant is a decorated veteran LAPD detective. It promises to be exactly the kind of media sensation that would establish her as a heavy hitter in the world of criminal law.Though Sam has doubts about his innocence, she and her two associates (her closest childhood friend and a brilliant ex-con) take the case.
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Without a Doubt is not just a book about a trial. It's a book about a woman. Marcia Clark takes us inside her head and her heart. Her voice is raw, incisive, disarming, unmistakable. Her story is both sweeping and deeply personal. It is the story of a woman who, when caught up in an event that galvanized an entire country, rose to that occasion with singular integrity, drive, honesty and grace.In a case that tore America apart, and that continues to haunt us as few events of history have, Marcia Clark emerged as the only true heroine, because she stood for justice, fought the good fight, and fought it well.
Someone has been watching D.A. Rachel Knight-someone who's Rachel's equal in brains, but with more malicious intentions. It began when a near-impossible case fell into Rachel's lap, the suspectless homicide of a homeless man. In the face of courthouse backbiting and a gauzy web of clues, Rachel is determined to deliver justice. She's got back-up: tough-as-nails Detective Bailey Keller. As Rachel and Bailey stir things up, they're shocked to uncover a connection with the vicious murder of an LAPD cop a year earlier.
When the daughter of a billionaire Hollywood director is found murdered after what appears to be a kidnapping gone wrong, Los Angeles Special Trials prosecutor Rachel Knight and Detective Bailey Keller find themselves at the epicenter of a combustible and high-profile court case.Then a prime suspect is revealed to be one of Hollywood's most popular and powerful talent managers-and best friend to the victim's father.With the director vouching for the manager's innocence, the Hollywood media machine commences an all-out war designed to discredit both Rachel and her case.KILLER AMBITION is at once a thrilling ride through the darker side of Tinseltown and a stunning courtroom drama with the brilliant insider's perspective that Marcia Clark is uniquely qualified to give.
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Обстоятельный и дотошный инспектор амстердамской полиции Ван дер Вальк расследует странное убийство домохозяйки («Ать-два!»). Героям известного автора детективов предстоят жестокие испытания, прежде чем справедливость восторжествует.
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Будущее Джимми Кьюсака, талантливого молодого финансиста и основателя преуспевающего хедж-фонда «Кьюсак Кэпитал», рисовалось безоблачным. Однако грянул финансовый кризис 2008 года, и его дело потерпело крах. Дошло до того, что Джимми нечем стало выплачивать ипотеку за свою нью-йоркскую квартиру. Чтобы вылезти из долговой ямы и обеспечить более-менее приличную жизнь своей семье, Кьюсак пошел на работу в хедж-фонд «ЛиУэлл Кэпитал». Поговаривали, что благодаря финансовому гению его управляющего клиенты фонда «никогда не теряют свои деньги».