man for one satisfying moment and then read him his rights. Luther
looked across at his daughter.
Kate at first could not meet his gaze, but then decided he at least
deserved that. His words hurt her more than anything she had prepared
for.
“Are you all right, Katie?”
She nodded and the tears started to pour, and this time, despite
squeezing her throat in an iron grip, she could not stop them as she
crumpled to the floor.
Bill Burton stood just inside the lobby doorway. When an astonished
Collin came in, Burton’s look threatened to disintegrate the younger
man. That is until Collin whispered in his ear.
To his credit Burton assimilated the information rapidly and hit upon
the truth a few seconds later. Sullivan had hired a hit man. The old man
had actually done what Burton had intended to falsely set him up for.
The wily billionaire rose a notch in Burton’s estimation.
Burton walked over to Frank.
Frank looked at him. “Any idea what the fuck that was all about?”
“Maybe,” Burton answered back.
Burton turned around. For the first time he and Luther Whitney actually
looked at each other. For Luther, memories of that night again came
hurtling back to him. But he was calm, unruffled.
Burton had to admire that. But it also was a great source of concern for
him. Whitney was obviously not overly distressed at being arrested. His
eyes told Burton-a man who had participated in literally thousands of
arrests, which normally involved adults blubbering like babies-all he
needed to know. The guy was planning to go to the cops all along.
For what reason Burton was unsure and he really didn’t care.
Burton continued to look at Luther while Frank checked in with his men.
Then Burton looked over at the huddled mass in the corner. Luther had
already struggled with his captors in an attempt to go to her, but they
were having no part of it.
A policewoman was making awkward efforts to console Kate but with little
success. Traces of tears worked their way down the thick wrinkles in the
old man’s cheeks as he watched each sob wrack his little girl.
When he noticed Burton right at his elbow, Luther finally flashed fire
at the man until Burton led the old man’s eyes back over to Kate. The
men’s eyes locked again. Burton raised his eyebrows a notch and then
settled them back down with the finality of a round being fired into
Kate’s head. Burton had stared down some of the worst criminals the area
had to offer and his features could be menacing, but it was the absolute
sincerity in those features that turned hardened men cold. Luther
Whitney was no punk, that was easy enough to see. He was not one of the
blubberers. But the wall of concrete that made up Luther Whitney’s
nerves had already started to crumble. It swiftly finished dissolving
and the remnants trickled toward the sobbing woman in the corner.
Burton turned and walked out the door.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
GLORIA RUSSELL SAT IN HER LIVING ROOM AND HELD THE epistle in her
quavering hand. She looked at the clock. It had come right on time, via
messenger; a turbaned older man in a beat-up Subaru A Metro Rush
Couriers logo on the passenger door. Thank you, rna’am. Say good-bye to
your life. She had expected to finally have in her hand the key to
wiping away all the nightmares she had suffered. All the risks she had
taken.
The wind was starting to howl in the chimney. A cozy fire burned in the
fireplace. The house was scrupulously clean thanks to the efforts of
Mary, her part-time maid, who had just left. Russell was expected at
Senator Richard Miles’s home for dinner at eight. Miles was very
important to her own personal political aspirations and he had started
making all the right noises. Things had finally started to go right
again. The momentum had shifted back to her. After all those torturous,
humiliating moments. But now? But now?
She looked at the message again. The disbelief continued to sweep over
her like an enormous fishing net, dragging her to the bottom, where she