Unfinished Business by J.A. Jance

Author:J.A. Jance
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2021-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

|CHAPTER 26|

COTTONWOOD, ARIZONA

Harvey spent Sunday morning at the Busy Bee Laundromat. He always washed his clothes on Sundays, more out of spite for his mother than for any other reason. As far as Ida Mae had been concerned, Sundays were meant for church and nothing else. She wouldn’t have been caught dead with laundry hanging on her clothesline on a Sunday.

Maybe most of the rest of the world agreed with her, because Laundromats were hardly ever crowded before noon on Sundays. Sometimes Harvey thumbed through Sunday-morning papers left behind by customers who’d preceded him. Today, however, no newspapers were available, so he spent most of the time brooding about Princess Prius.

When he had started to go after her and Ali Reynolds in his office, most people—most sensible people—would have taken a step backward, but neither of them had retreated an inch. Come to think of it, that little black-haired Asian bitch had actually taken a step toward him, as if daring him to make a move. What an annoying pipsqueak! How dare she?

Harvey’s phone buzzed in his shirt with Leonardo Bianchi’s number showing on caller ID. “When are you coming by with my watch?” he wanted to know.

Harvey was surprised. “You’ve already got what I need?” he asked.

Leonardo chuckled. “You think my guys work Monday through Friday, nine to five? When somebody needs something fast, it’s generally not during standard business hours. Besides, they owe me a favor or two.”

“Where are you?” Harvey asked.

“The Cowpoke,” came the reply. “Where do you think?”

When Harvey’s clothes finished drying, he put on a clean but wrinkled shirt and headed for the bar. The gym opened late on Sundays, so he’d missed his morning shower. When he showed up at the bar half an hour later, Leonardo was in his customary spot. He turned and raised his glass in Harvey’s direction.

“Top of the morning to you,” he said with a grin, although it was already early afternoon.

“Same to you,” Harvey muttered, settling onto the stool next to Bianchi.

Joe the bartender caught Harvey’s eye. “The usual?” he asked.

Harvey nodded. As he sat there waiting for his beer to show up, he stared regretfully at his watch. The Rolex was the last remaining vestige of a different existence—the last time his life had been going in the right direction—and he was sorry to lose it. But wearing a Rolex on the beach in Mexico wouldn’t be doing himself any favors. It would only attract unwanted attention—the worst kind of unwanted attention. After a moment he unfastened the clasp and pushed the watch down the bar until it came to a stop next to Leonardo’s almost empty glass. The Big Dude was a serious drinker whose beverage of choice was generally vodka on the rocks.

He returned the favor by shoving a manila envelope in Harvey’s direction. Opening it, Harvey examined the contents. His old driver’s license was there, as was a new one with his photo and a new name—Harold Wilson McBride. A surprisingly legitimate-looking US passport,

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