Alligator Read Online Free

startled out of his reverie by a knock on the door. "Rye! You in there?"
    Rye winced. "No," he yelled back. "I went home an hour ago."
    Maurice Gainor, vice-president of Whitman Enterprises and trusted friend, as much as Rye trusted anyone beyond himself, opened the door a couple of inches and slid into the men's room. He breathed a sigh of relief. "For a moment there, I could almost see the unemployment line."
    "Are you kidding? Those turkeys had no shot." Rye pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, wadded it into a ball, and left-hooked it into a urinal by way of emphasis. "I practically own this state. There isn't a goddamned inch of land between here and Baton Rouge that doesn't have my mark on it. No weakkneed, ass-licking bunch of fancy-pants can organize a proxy fight against me."
    "Any idea who was behind it?"
    "I don't have a clue. Or maybe I should say the list is so long I don't know which one to choose. But I'll find out quick enough, and when I do, I'll have his balls strung out the thirty-fifth-floor window." Rye flicked Maurice's tie into his face and smiled. "You look like you just fought World War Three single-handedly."
    Maurice ran his short, stubby fingers over his wrinkled suit and tried to make himself look presentable. He always looked as though he had just fought World War Three. He was the kind of man who looked dirty and sleazy no matter how often he washed and how much deodorant he used. On him, a five-hundred-dollar suit looked like it came with two pairs of pants. He glanced into the same mirror Rye had looked into seconds before. A squat, beetlelike man with thinning black hair and oily dark skin looked back at him. Only his eyes saved him from looking completely unsavory. They were soft brown and sad. He sighed. He had never gotten used to being ugly. Maybe nobody ever did, he thought. He turned away from the mirror.
    "The press is waiting outside for you," said Maurice.
    "Let John deal with them." Rye grabbed a paper towel and, taking careful aim, made another hook shot into the urinal.
    "It wouldn't look good."
    "Yeah," said Rye, "I guess you're right. Where in the hell is John, anyway?"
    "He's still in the ballroom, kissing ass."
    "Well, get him out of there and let's get this over with." Rye glanced at his watch. "We hurry, we can still make Everglades by morning."
    Just as Maurice was about to open the door, there was another knock. "You in there?" called John.
    "No," said Rye, "it's the cleaning lady. Come on in and join the party."
    John Patterson kicked open the door. He stood in the doorway, one hand at either side of his Brooks Brothers trousers as if he were drawing six-shooters.
    "Bang. Bang." John let off an imaginary shot at each man.
    With John Patterson's tall, slim figure, short-cropped hair, and a face like the American Dream gone to seed, he was able to look fairly menacing in the half light.
    "Not funny," said Rye.
    "You're telling me?" John threw some cold water on his face and allowed the air to dry it off. "That was some surprise."
    "Balls," said Rye. "Is the meeting over?"
    "Yeah, everyone's gone but the press. You want to sneak out the back? There's a way through the kitchen."
    "Gainor says it doesn't look right. But let's make it fast, okay? In and out."
    Rye wadded up another towel and made a brilliant shot. He winked at Maurice and John. "Come on."
    Rye sneaked up to the door and opened it a crack. The dimly lit corridor was quiet. At the far end he could just barely make out the twenty-five waiting reporters who were penned into a cordoned-off area near the ballroom. It would be easy to sneak by them.
    Suddenly Rye burst through the men's-room door and, with Maurice and John in his wake, began striding down the corridor, a super-powered businessman in a hurry. It was all part of a game he had learned long ago. Pretend you're in control and they'll buy it.
    Within seconds the press caught sight of Rye and tried to push through the barrier. The corridor, which only