Dragon's Den. Don Pendleton

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СКАЧАТЬ cops wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place, except in an undercover role. That meant it unlikely anybody would spy on her there or she’d run into anyone uncomfortable.

      Lareza studied Amherst over the rim of his glass. He’d been watching her intently as she devoured her third helping of fish. He seemed almost stone-faced except for that damn smirk that occasionally played across his lips. The fact Amherst couldn’t figure out why he kept staring at her with that ridiculous expression only served to irritate her. Finally, Amherst put down her fork, wiped away the grease from her lips and washed her food down with a swig from an ice-cold bottle of beer.

      “I hate to eat alone,” she said. “Why didn’t you order anything?”

      “I told you I’m not hungry.”

      Amherst dropped her napkin on the table next to her plate, grabbed the bottle in one hand, stuffed the other in her pocket and then leaned back. She wiped the bottle across her forehead. The temperature seemed to have gone up ten degrees since they arrived forty minutes earlier.

      “So, what was so damn hush-hush you couldn’t tell me on the phone?”

      Lareza sat forward and put both forearms flat on the table. His hands visibly tightened as he dropped his tone some, making it much more difficult to hear him over the music blaring from the jukebox speakers mounted strategically throughout the establishment. His dark brown eyes gleamed under the diffuser-shade lamp that hung over their table. He’d always been a handsome guy, partly rugged with his dark skin and partly teddy bear with those dimples. He wore his black hair short and slicked back.

      “The guy I questioned tonight, he’s a bodyguard and enforcer for Antoine Pratt.”

      “You already mentioned that,” Amherst replied with a nod. “What’s his story?”

      “His story is this mystery perp scared the living shit out of him. Said the guy was a big son of a bitch, dressed up like some type of commando. Apparently he just walked in and started shooting the place up and blowing it all to hell. Preliminary evidence says there were automatic weapons and high explosives used in Pratt’s house. Crime scene thinks possibly grenades.”

      “And you believed him?” Amherst asked as she cocked one eyebrow.

      “Hell, yeah, I believed him!” Lareza noticed her look around and lowered his voice self-consciously. “Sorry.”

      Amherst could already see where this conversation would end up, but she couldn’t ignore what Lareza had just revealed. “Automatic weapons aren’t anything new here. But military-grade explosives, that sounds a bit more serious.”

      “You’re goddamn right it is,” Lareza said. “And I’ll tell you something else. This wasn’t done in gangland style one bit. This guy hit the place like a professional all the way.”

      “What did he look like?”

      “Tall with dark hair. Pratt’s guy couldn’t really get a look at his face because I guess he had it smeared with shoe polish or something, but he remembered the guy’s eyes were blue because they stood out so much. Said he’d never seen colder eyes on someone than this bastard.”

      Amherst could feel that sensation go through her again, like ice pulsing in her veins. Other than the commando outfit and face paint, the guy matched Matt Cooper’s description perfectly: big, dark hair and some very intense blue eyes. Yes, she couldn’t deny that sounded exactly like Cooper, and moreover she couldn’t deny how betrayed she felt. At that moment, she had an even bigger problem. While she’d known Lareza for a lot of years she didn’t entirely trust him. In the past he had kept her other secrets, though, and if she needed a friend now was the time.

      “That guy sounds like a dead ringer for a man who came to my office late this afternoon.”

      Something changed in Lareza’s expression. “What man?”

      “Well, I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody, but you know how to keep your mouth shut. You can’t breathe a word of it to anybody, Nesto, I’m telling you straight.”

      “I swear, I won’t say nothing,” Lareza replied, crossing himself and kissing the crucifix hanging from his neck. “But what the hell are you being so damn secretive about?”

      “Because I don’t know where any of this is going yet, and I don’t want anyone jumping to conclusions and doing something stupid.”

      “It would be a little hard to do something stupid when I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about.”

      “This guy who came to see me, his name is Matt Cooper. He’s an agent with the DEA…or so he claims.”

      “The feds? Why would they be so interested in any of this? It’s a local problem.”

      “Because of the volume of drugs that have come into the greater Los Angeles area in just the past three months.” Amherst looked around, took a swig of beer and continued, “There’s been a lot more than you know about, Nesto. A lot more. I’m talking major weight, not just a few hundred kilos being pushed around.”

      “Great. So how come I don’t know anything about this?” Lareza asked.

      “For the same reason you didn’t know about any of the other stuff I’ve told you about,” she said. “The sheriff and city politicians have been trying to keep it quiet. They didn’t just threaten my job, like I told you before. They threatened to go to a judge and get a gag order.”

      “Why didn’t they?”

      Amherst shrugged and said, “I managed to convince them I’d remain silent, I guess.”

      “Except for what you’ve told me,” Lareza replied. He cracked a smile.

      She smiled and nodded. “Except for what I told you, yes.”

      “So let me get this straight. There’s been major drugs recovered at a number of key locations in the past few months, and now all of the sudden you get paid a visit from the DEA.”

      “Right,” she said, “and I got in touch with some friends in Washington about this Cooper, just to be sure it wasn’t some kind of trap. Maybe put there by the sheriff to spy on me.”

      “You figure if he’s legitimate he wouldn’t prefer you keep quiet. He’d want you to make some noise.”

      “Maybe,” she said. “But if the guy your gangbanger describes is Cooper, then there might be another way to look at this.”

      “How’s that?”

      “Maybe Cooper’s DEA, maybe he isn’t,” she said. “I’d guess he’s some sort of special operator in town to rattle cages. He figures it’s probably one of the local gangs trying to get the corner on the market here in L.A., or maybe even a rival faction.”

      “So he shakes some trees to see who falls out,” Lareza concluded. “And he doesn’t want you to tell your higher-ups in case they’re involved somehow.”

      “Or maybe he just doesn’t want local interference. He might have his own leads to follow. Hell, Cooper might not even be interested in the drugs at all. This could be about something else entirely. He did tell me he wasn’t here to step СКАЧАТЬ