DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten (the Charlie Fox crime thriller series) Read Online Free

I was—had clung gratefully to that omission. It might have emphasised the ties between us, but at the same time it might have driven him further away. After all, he had woken with a false picture of me as a calculating schemer, something this would not help to address.
     
    I lived in a world of constant risk assessment. This was not a risk I wanted to take.
     
    On the Lakefront tarmac, the Citation powered down and the door cracked open. I straightened away from the car, but Sean snapped almost to attention as a slim well-preserved man with silver hair and an expensive tan came bounding down the steps.
     
    Blake Dyer had been born into money and married into it deeper still. His only ambition, apart from living the good life, had been to keep the family fortune intact enough to pass on to his own offspring. This, I gathered, he’d already achieved some years previously through a network of offshore bank accounts and trust funds, so that he now considered himself in well-earned retirement.
     
    He was the sort of guy I would have loved to hate, or at least quietly despise, but it was hard not to like Blake Dyer. He had charm and wit, and he was unfailingly courteous to other people’s staff.
     
    Now, he made a point of speaking briefly to the plane’s crew who were decanting his luggage from the hold to the rear of the Yukon. Then he came forwards to greet us with all the energy of a man who plays tennis or golf four days a week.
     
    “Charlie!” he said, pumping my proffered hand with both his own, then impulsively pulling me close enough to air-kiss either cheek. “It’s good to see you again, young lady, and looking as cool, calm and collected as ever.”
     
    “And you, sir. Thank you for requesting me for this.”
     
    He smiled, flirty as always. “How could I ask for anyone else?” He turned to Sean. “Charlie saved my life,” he said. “A hell of a woman.”
     
    Sean allowed himself a small smile as I introduced them, adding. “Sean is Parker Armstrong’s partner.”
     
    Dyer’s eyebrows quirked. “Sending out the big guns, huh?” he said. “Well, I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, Sean.”
     
    “Thank you, sir. We’ll do our best to keep you safe.”
     
    Dyer’s smile broadened. “Ah, you don’t need to flatter my ego,” he said. “We both know this is something of a dick-waving contest—if you’ll pardon my language, Charlie.”
     
    I hid a smile as I opened the rear door and ushered our principal inside, following him in. Sean got behind the wheel. The muted rush of the air-conditioning was louder than the engine.
     
    We rolled across the airport land, a man-made peninsula stretching out into the lake, and pulled out past the restored art deco terminal into traffic. Despite the US Marine Corps T-45 Goshawks and the sleek modern aircraft, the airport itself still had the feel of the pre-war years to it. I half expected to see gleaming old DC-3 Dakotas and gangster cars with running boards.
     
    Maybe it was just that New Orleans had a mixed-up vibe between the historic and the modern, as if it couldn’t quite decide what to let go of and what to hold onto.
     
    “‘Dick-waving’?” I queried. “If there’s going to be much of that, I want hazard pay.”
     
    Dyer laughed again, batted a hand. “You know what I mean—all posturing and posing,” he said. “These days, you’re not a big shot unless you have a half-dozen bodyguards shadowing you everywhere—even to the john.”
     
    I nodded, muffling a mild exasperation. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d been hired as a status symbol or executive toy. It never failed to put my back up. While the idle rich were showing off, I could have been looking after someone who really needed it.
     
    “If I’d known,” I said dryly, “I would have brought a bigger team.”
     
    “I’m happy to go for quality rather than quantity,” Dyer said. “And my wife insisted I have some protection before she let