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“Want me to make an intro? This guy is kind of high strung. Paranoid.”
I type back my response.
“No. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Your funeral.”
I stuff the phone into the drink holder and drive to a run down marina. The sign’s peeling paint proclaims itNeptune’s Rest.I don’t think any god would be caught dead at this place, unless it was a god of misery.
The swollen, uneven dock planks only add to the overall feeling. All the boats have dark windows and signs of disrepair. I can feel eyes on me as I walk along, even though I don’t actually see anyone.
This is the kind of marina where you pay cash and they don’t care if you write John Doe in the guest registry. Not the safest place to be. I’m glad Charlotte is back with Cole watching over her.
For a second, I let my mind be distracted. I wonder if Charlotte is asking Cole about me. It only lasts for a couple of heartbeats, but in that moment I almost miss a vital clue.
The cobalt blue of a gun barrel thrust out from the nearest yacht’s window.
I throw myself behind a corroded mooring post as the first shot rings out.
“If you’re here to kill me, you’ll never take me alive you son of a bitch!”
Unhinged, frantic. Yep, this is one of Malloy’s friends, all right. He never was all that discriminating.
“Carlton LaForge? I’m a friend of Drake Malloy.”
“Bullshit! Tell me something only Malloy would know.”
“Seriously? What if I tortured Malloy for every bit of information that he has?”
I hear the man spit. “Malloy would never break.”
I laugh at that, and it’s more or less sincere.
“Malloy once backed out of a simple stakeout because his corns were hurting him. You could break him by snapping a rubber band on his wrist.”
A long silence, and then laughter.
“Yeah, you know Malloy, all right. You have my permission to come aboard.”
I wait a few seconds then cautiously peer around my protective post. I don’t see the gun barrel any longer, just a beat up boat that looks like it can barely stay afloat.
The gangplank bends to a worrying degree as I tramp up to the deck. The smell of bilgewater and bad weed emanates from every pore of this ship.
A scrawny, shaven headed man in his late fifties appears on the deck as if by magic. I have to keep myself from reaching for my piece, because it will most certainly start a shoot out I don’t want.
“Greetings, Mr. LaForge–”
“Don’t say that name! No names.”
He looks around, eyes wild, as if expecting government surveillance to pop out of the woodwork. I don’t know much about LaForge, but I do know he’s not really important enough for the feds to keep tabs on him. Far be it from me to ruin his fantasy, though.
“As you like it. I need information on the Aegis Order.”
His eyes grow crafty and suspicious.
“All of the sudden, they’re making a lot of noise. Used to be they were just another wannabe hacktivist group with delusions of grandeur. Now they’re making some big, very public moves.”
I nod. “Yes, exactly. I need to know everything you have on them.”
