Every one of them made an easy target.
Jericho would be no different.
His bones radiated with an unspoken warning, an uncanny survival instinct that, combined with his unique, formidable skills, had kept him alive when other men would have ended up dead. Cole trusted that instinct the way a newborn babe trusted his mother. There was something in the air. Something waiting.
Automatically, he patted the Glock 9mm that hung beneath the hand-tailored cut of his suit coat and adjusted his pant leg to cover the smaller Beretta strapped to his ankle.
Feeling the easy possibility of an attack like a personal threat, Cole wrapped his hand around Jerichos arm and nudged the older man awake. You dont go anywhere without me or Paulie right by your side. Understood? He made the demand as if he was the one in charge.
Jericho smiled at his audacity and nodded. Your concerns are duly noted, Mr. Taylor. He turned away in curious anticipation as the car came to a halt in front of the double front doors and the driver hurried around to open the door.
Cole was already there when Jericho climbed out. He stood several inches taller than his ailing boss, making Cole an ample shield and giving him a clear, 360-degree view of their surroundings. With the driver leading the way and Paulie bringing up the rear, they formed a protective triangle around Jericho and walked him into the clinic.
A young man, barely out of his teens, greeted them with an articulate, guttural accent. Right this way, Mr. Meade. After several furtive glances, the waiting attendant sat Jericho in a wheelchair and guided them at a brisk pace past the admissions desk and down a newly tiled hallway.
Cole couldnt tell if the young man was new on the job, nervous about working with a patient of Jerichos reputation, or just plain intimidated by Coles imposing size and demeanor. Whatever the cause might be, his rabbitlike movements only heightened Coles suspicions about the place. He took note of the attendants name tag. Joe Barton. Yeah, right. Not with that accent. Cole planned to run a few tests of his own while Dr. Kramer evaluated Jericho.
All the doors along the corridor stood open, and the rooms were apparently empty. Strike that, Cole amended, as a chin-high stainless-steel cart, packed with fresh, folded linens, rolled through a doorway just before they reached it. Instinctively on guard, he pushed Jerichos wheelchair and the attendant against the wall and positioned himself between their entourage and the cart. His hand was inside his jacket on the butt of his gun when the cart swung around and he got his first look at the man on the other side.
Whoa. Sorry, pal. Stooped over in green scrubs and a white lab jacket, the orderly barely made eye contact before pushing the cart on past.
Coles breath eased out between tightly compressed lips. He nodded to the attendant to keep moving, but remained behind to cool an edgy pulse that was still firing jets of adrenaline through his system. He breathed in deeply, a new plan forming in his head before he followed Jericho into an exam room. The green clothes and shuffling walk were different, but the orderlys scraggly brown mustache and beady black eyes behind the glasses were the same.
Lee Cameron.
His contact with the DAs office.
Something was up.
TEN MINUTES LATER, Jericho was secure in the exam room with Dr. Kramer, a nurse and Paulie. The driver had parked the car and returned to stand watch at the door. The nervous attendant had been sent back to the main foyer and Cole was plugging change into a vending machine and waiting for a can of soda to fall through.
Lee Cameron leaned against the wall beside the vending machine, facing Coles direction without actually looking at him. He looked for all the world like a worn-out clinic worker who needed every bite of the candy bar he was munching on to sustain him to the end of his shift.
Youre not looking nearly as dapper as when we met in the bank last week. Coles words teased his fellow investigator, though he pretended a rapt fascination with the ingredients on his can of soda.
Budget cuts hit me in the fashion department. Lee chewed a mouthful of chocolate and peanuts. You might give me fair warning next time you change plans. I could have scrounged a tie and posed as a doctor instead of borrowing these from the laundry.
Meade usually sees a doctor named Lyddon, east of the Plaza. Cole popped open the soda. I didnt know we were coming here until this morning. If Powers is pressing for something new, I havent got it.
Assistant District Attorney Dwight Powers could be a real hard-ass when it came to an investigation. But what the man lacked in personality he made up for in courtroom performance. Powers got convictions that were rarely overturned. When he sent felons to Jeff City or Potosi, they served their time.
But it was up to men like Cole and Lee to find the ammunition to make Powerss big legal guns work.
Lee scanned the break-room area and ran through the usual questions. Were ready to serve the warrants on the drug trafficking tip you gave us. Nothing on the new money laundering scheme?
Cole moved to the candy machine and studied his choices. I havent gotten anything on the new accountant. Except that Chad Meade hired him, not Jericho. He dug some change out of his pocket and made a selection.
Chads the nephew, right?
Heir apparent. Cole pulled the candy bar from the bottom bin. He doesnt have the brains Jericho or even Daniel had, so if hes up to something, you can bet hes not in it alone. Ill keep digging.
No news on who ordered the hit on Powerss family?
That was the ADAs one suspicion hed found no evidence to corroborate. Powerss obsession for the truth bordered on vengeance.
Nothing I can prove yet. The timeline fits. Powers was gearing up to prosecute Jerichos son. Two large sums of money were withdrawn from the Meade accounts that same week. But Ive got no phone record, no eye witness to place Jericho with the hit man.
And weve got no hit man, Lee added.
Cole nodded. Im still waiting for someone in the Meade camp to let something slip. But I havent heard anything concrete yet.
Lee wadded up his empty wrapper and shot a basket in the trash can. Ill pass the word along, but you know Powers wants every loose end wrapped up before we pull you in.
Cole shrugged his shoulders and took a drink. The few minutes theyd been conversing would start to draw attention soon. Lee Cameron was his one link to the DAs office, Coles only safe channel of information in or out of the game. Lee wouldnt risk making contact with the UC operative just to shoot the breeze. So Ive got nothing new, youve got nothing new. Why are you here?
Lee shifted position. The subtle tensing of his posture was enough to make Cole glance his way. Its personal, said Lee.
Me or you?
Your mom.
Coles fingers dented the can in his grip. Yeah?
Yesterday morning she was assaulted in a grocery store parking lot. Had her purse stolen.
Forget anonymity. Cole stared right into Lees intense black eyes. Is Ma okay?
Lee gestured with his hand at his side, warning Cole to look away. Shes fine. Scrapes and bruises. But your nephew AlexI guess he tried to defend herhe got some stitches at the E.R. and was released.
Cole let the anger surge through him, then forced it to dissipate into mere frustration. His mother had been attacked. Not only had he not been there to help, he hadnt even known shed been hurt.