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"They know who you are," Harry said. "Whether they have someone in the AG's office - which I wouldn't doubt - or some other way. They know I'm involved too." "How did you find out?" asked Jessica. "Guy named Dean Creasey. Works for Carlisle some, and people Carlisle knows. Officially he works for a upscale used car dealership - Rogers Auto Plaza. That outfit looks like a money laundering operation and word is drug trafficking is part of it as well. People with money what want their stuff discretely and protected - some guys on the Jonesboro and Paragold PD tell me it's hands off. Creasey came by this morning and wants to see you. Told me not to play dumb - just tell you." "What does he want?" Jessica asked. "I figure he'll try to pay you off," replied Harry. "He's a bagman himself and Carlisle would rather pay some good money to make this go away if he can." Jessica looked at Alex. "We're not for sale," Alex said. "Where does that leave us?" "For now it won't hurt to talk, if you're up to a meeting. Buy some time. I don't know where the AG is or if they're even going to do anything and if they do it'll take time. All he'll do this time is offer you some money to shut up and go away. It'll give us a chance to size up the situation. Are you up to it?" No way Jessica gonna let me go alone but... "Let's do it." "I can set something up," Harry said. "I choose the place and have it covered. I'll give you recorders, small and easy to hide. We'll be collecting evidence - more ammo for the AG. You won't be in any danger. This time." I don't like the sound of that. Which time will it be dangerous? "He probably knows where you live," Harry said. "And a lot more. If you do the meeting we can find out more about him and who he's working for. Carlisle is the only plausible one unless it's somebody from Texas. And you know they're onto you." "Set it up," Alex said. "Just me and you? They don't know about Jessica, do they?" "I'm fairly certain they do," Harry replied. "But there's no need for her to be exposed." "I want to be there," Jessica said. "No," Alex said. "There's no need to...." "There is," Jessica said. "And they're less likely to expect me to be dangerous." "Like I said," said Harry, "there's no risk this time. I'll have a couple of guys with me. And if you're armed - there's no reason for them to expect it." Still don't like it but Jessica ain't lettin' me out of her sight way I am. "OK, let's do it."
"We don't want them knowing we're armed," Alex said. "You can carry your Charter in your bag. Or something with more firepower - maybe the P9. I can carry my Charter in a back holster." "That should work. It's just us and him." "OK, we've got a couple of hours." "I wish it was over," said Jessica. "But I've got a feeling it's not going to get better." Me neither.
"I own a piece of Rooster's" Harry had told them. "I'm pretty sure Carlisle knows it." Jessica knew where it was but had never been there and if Alex had he didn't remember. Rooster's was a small restaurant with a large bar with several private rooms. Jessica parked the TrailBlazer in the reserved spot Harry had told her to use. Alex was comfortable walking without his cane but used it in public. We should look pretty harmless. I probably am. Dunno if I had to shoot somebody.... Assuming they were being watched Alex walked as if he needed the cane, occasionally stopping briefly and resting. "We're meeting Mr. Creasey," Jessica said to the hostess. "This way," the young woman said. They followed her to one of several small rooms at the back. A man was sitting at a table with six chairs. "Have a seat," he said. The man who was presumably Dean Creasey was not quite as old as Alex, probably in his late forties. He was relatively respectable-looking but... So was Ted Bundy. Now why did I remember him just now? He killed people. Young women. I don't like this. "I'll get right to the point," Creasey said. "Alex Hunter and Jessica Marshall. I know all about you. The people I work for would like for you to stop what you're doing before it goes too far. And you're close to too far." He picked up a briefcase and set it on the table, opened it. Like the movies. Bundles of C-notes. "Two hundred thousand. Go home and forget everything," he said. "Two hundred?" Jessica said. "Isn't a hundred the usual offer?" Creasey grinned. "Inflation. We understand". Who's we? "I represent some people who are in a position to make trouble for you," Creasey replied. "Big trouble, like you wouldn't believe." I say that out loud? Guess I did. "What makes you think a couple hundred thousand will buy us?" Jessica asked. "Seeing as how you know so much about us. Or do you know as much as you think?" "We know enough. A crippled old man, not much time to live in any case. Why not be reasonable?" Because you kill people and make a lot of money doing it? "Reasonable would be a million," Jessica said. "Or a good start. In gold." Creasey was silent for a moment. "I'll ask," he said. "Let us know," Jessica said. "You know how to contact us."
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