A fast paced action thriller, with witty dialogue and characters you'll swear you know. One man trying to find himself, will have to push past old enemies and lost love, to find the truth that will set him free, or kill him.
|Edition description:||Second and First and and ed.|
|Product dimensions:||0.43(w) x 8.00(h) x 5.00(d)|
Beth looked him straight in the eyes, her eyes glancing back and forth. There was what seemed like an eternity of silence and then she simple said, �Yes�.
McMichael leaned back in his chair and studied her for a few moments. His gut instincts told him he wasn�t getting the whole story. �I still have a few unanswered questions about how you knew I was leaving the agency� �I need a cigarette� Beth interrupted. She pulled a small gold case from her purse and slid out a long filtered cigarette and a gold lighter. She flicked the lighter and took a long drag as she lit the cigarette. McMichael set quietly watching her reactions. Beth looked at the lighter, as she exhaled and gave a low haughty laugh. �Twenty-six years of marriage and this is one of the few things he gave me that were really useful. Here, take a look at the inscription.�
McMichael took the lighter, he noticed immediately there was a typed note scotch taped to the side of it. The note read, �Someone is watching us and we�re being listened to!� McMichael handed it back to her without changing his expression, �Yes, I guess that�s a little ironic now that he�s gone.�
�Yes, isn�t it though.� Beth added. She put the lighter back in the pouch of the gold carrying case and stuffed it back into her purse. The ashes on the cigarette were just about to fall to the table when she flipped them off into the ash tray, took one more long drag and blew the smoke in the air like she was aiming it at some imaginary target and then stubbed the cigarette out in the same tray. �These things don�t seem to do much for me anymore, I guess that means it�s a good time to stop smoking.�
� So, what makes you so sure I can help you find your husband?�, McMichael persisted, trying to keep the conversation on track without tipping off their listeners.
�Because I know where he is, I just need your help in locating him when I get there.�
�You mean you know the general vicinity of where he is, but not his exact location.�
�Yes, he�s in the Grand Cayman Islands.�
�But where in the islands you haven�t a clue?�
�And just how or what makes you so sure he�s in the Grand Caymans?� Beth took in a deep breath and said, �He was sending his share of the payment for the laundered money to a bank account in the Grand Caymans.
You may not be aware of it, but the Grand Caymans have become the new Switzerland when it comes to private banking accounts.�
� So your vast detective experience tells you to follow the money, but how can you be sure he hasn�t just taken the money and run?�, McMichael questioned with just a hint of sarcastic doubt.
�I, I can�t tell you that right now.�
McMichael leaned forward in his chair and began in a low calm voice, Let me get this straight. You ask me to dinner after twenty-eight years. Then you tell me your husband has disappeared with a shit-pot full of money, part of which he stole from a bank and part from the Cartel. Next you ask me if I can help you find him, as if the rest of the world wasn�t already looking for him and last but not least you want me to tramp off to the Grand Caymans, because you, someone who has never been involved in any type of detective work in your life, has a gut feeling that he might have gone to the Grand Caymans to get his money, found the weather delightful and decided to spend a few years on the beach while everybody and their dog looks for him.� McMichael�s voice had slowly gotten louder as he spewed out the absurdity of the situation she had laid in his lap.
�You don�t have to tell the world!� Beth shushed angrily back at him trying to quiet him down without drawing more attention to their table. She leaned back in her chair and stared into McMichael�s face. She was frustrated, scared and angry. She hated all these cat and mouse games and wished she could just spill her guts to McMichael. Instead she was trying to read his face and see if he understood the message on the lighter or if he was just totally lost to what trouble she was in. He had a stern irritated look. Just when she was sure he had conceded that she was totally nuts, McMichael winked at her without even the slightest change in his facial expression. It caught her by surprise at first, but she recovered quickly by taking another drink as a wave of relieve swept over her.
The waiter brought their order and gave them both a much-needed break from the evening�s topic. He served up their orders, checked to see if they needed anything else and left them one more time to return to their tense discussion. There was a lull in conversation as they seasoned their meals and prepared to eat.
The silence was growing heavy when McMichael finally spoke up, �You were certainly right about the rib-eye, it�s wonderful.�
�Thank you.� Beth uttered and went back to her dinner. Silence again. McMichael stopped eating. He laid down his silverware, picked up his napkin slowly and wiped his mouth. �Okay, I didn�t mean to hurt your feelings, but you have to admit this is a little far fetched.�
�My life has become far fetched ever since this whole shenanigan began.�
�Look Beth, I know some people, I�ll put out the word and see what I can come up with. If I can turn up some useful information and I think we have a snowball�s chance in hell of finding him, I�ll help you.�
�Listen Riley�, Beth reached out and took his hand, �I know this is crazy. I know you haven�t been here, seen me, or been part of my world for twenty-eight years.� Her eyes began to swell with tears, �I need your help, and I need you to trust me. I�m asking a huge favor for an old friend.�