Bright Lights by Mark Dawson

Author:Mark Dawson [Dawson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unputdownable

42

It was six in the evening when Beau parked the Yukon into the hotel lot and killed the engine.

“What do we do now?” Jessica said.

“I’d try to relax for a bit,” Milton said. “Go and get something to eat, maybe.”

“What about you?” Jessica said.

“I’m going to set this up.”

“You need me?”

“No,” Milton said. “I’ve got it.”

Beau nodded and swung around so that he could look back at Jessica. “There’s a nice pizza restaurant down the way. We could go and order some pies.”

“Sure,” she said.

Beau turned to Milton. “What do you like?”

“Whatever’s good,” he said.

“Come over when you’re done. It’s called Evel Pie. As in Evel Knievel.”

“What?” Jessica said.

“Who,” Beau corrected. “He used to ride motorbikes.”

She shook her head, perplexed. “Never heard of him.”

“Kids,” Beau observed with an exaggerated roll of the eyes.

Milton smiled. “I’ll see you in there.”

They got out. Milton watched as Beau and Jessica walked to Fremont Street, turned the corner and disappeared. He reached into his jacket pocket for his burner phone and held down the button to power it up. He gave a moment’s thought to what he was going to say and then tapped the number for Oscar Delgado.

The call connected after just four rings.

“Señor Smith,” Delgado said.

“Are you ready?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“So when will it be?”

“Tonight. Ten o’clock. We’ll meet you in the gas station on I-15, just after Jean.”

“That’s forty minutes away. Let’s do it closer to Vegas.”

“We do it where and when I say we’ll do it or not at all.”

“All right.”

“You’ll need to follow me.”

“To where?”

“The place I have in mind is out of the way and quiet. We won’t be disturbed.”

“You expect me to trust you?”

“I know who you work for, Oscar. I know what happens if this goes wrong. Your organisation’s reputation is your insurance. All we want is for you to get your money and for the girl to see her father again. That’s it.”

“What then? We go our separate ways?”

Milton heard the sarcasm in the flippant suggestion. “That’s right. We each get what we want. Everyone’s happy.”

Delgado chuckled. “You are either very naïve or very stupid—I can’t work out which.”

“Yes or no?”

There was a long pause; Milton clutched the phone tightly.

“Ten o’clock. We will be there.”

“There are a couple of other requirements,” Milton said. “You come with a driver and no one else.”

“I’ll come with whoever I want.”

“If I feel like we’re outnumbered, we’re not going to stick around. It’ll be a waste of everyone’s time.”

Delgado grunted; it might have been assent, it might not. “Bring my money.”

“Bring Russo.”

He ended the call.

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