When the Devil Comes to Call (A Lars and Shaine Novel Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

brought you along. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”
     
    Shaine forced herself to shake his hand. It felt dry, leathery, like the worn-out seats of the cab they drove up in. She wanted to look away, to never know the face of the man who wanted her father dead for so long. But she made herself hold his gaze. She made herself get to know his face, the deep lines and faded scars. Made herself say pleasant things.
    “Nice to be here,” she said.
    “How’s he treatin’ you, huh? Is he driving you nuts with all his yoga shit? All the bending and twisting and who gives a fuck, am I right?”
    She smiled and said nothing.
    She enjoyed when he had to sit down and loop a thin plastic tube over his ears and fit twin hoses into his nose. The slow release of the oxygen tank sounded to Shaine like the life leaking out of him.
    “Sweetheart,” Nikki said to her. “Do you mind giving us a few minutes? We’ve got some catching up to do.”
    “No problem.”
    “Anthony, take her to the kitchen, see what there is to eat. Get her whatever she wants.”
    “No problem, Nikki,” Anthony answered. Shaine left the room with the oversized doorman who greeted them. The other two hired guns left too, exiting off a subtle nod of Nikki’s head. Nikki and Lars were alone, the fire crackling in the fireplace.
    Lars noticed the scraping of a tree branch against the window. Outside, so cold and unwelcoming. A hell of a homecoming. And inside, the dark walls and deep reds of the sofa and rug absorbed the firelight. Lars looked at the flames as Nikki took a few deep breaths to catch up and prepare himself to give the sales pitch.
    A log popped, the damp wood shooting an ember past the iron screen and onto the rug. Lars stepped on it, turning the red coal black with the bottom of his shoe. Back in town for an hour, he thought, and already this place is trying to burn me down.

6
     
    “So who is it?” Lars asked, trying to adopt some of Shaine’s bluntness. He’d kept himself busy on the flights with reading, changing planes and sleeping, but now the need to know who killed Lenore burned in him.
    “We’ll get to that. First, I gotta tell you why I needed you here.”
    “Because everyone I’ve seen so far on the payroll wasn’t born until after Reagan left office?”
    “While that is true, that’s not it.” Nikki paused while the tank of pure oxygen filled his lungs. Lars hated to see him this way, and wondered how long it would be for him to have tubes stuffed up his own nose. “That crack I made about retiring? Well, it’s time.”
    Lars nodded his head, not entirely surprised.
    “I’m cashing in,” Nikki continued. “But it’s not exactly the way I want to go.”
    “Why not?”
    Nikki gestured to the bar in the corner of the office. A dark wood hutch filled with bottles of amber liquids and spotless glasses. An old style soda dispenser sat on a silver tray. “Fix us a drink, will you?”
    Lars stood and crossed the Oriental rug to the bar. He knew Nikki’s drink already.
    “They’re coming for me,” Nikki said. “Like wolves at my door, I hear ‘em huffing and puffing. I ran out of guys I could buy. These ain’t local guys neither. The feds, Lars. The Federal Bureau guys.” Lars handed Nikki a double scotch, single malt, neat. He poured a single for himself. “I tried to buy a plane ticket. Barbados, get a little sun, y’know? Good for my lungs. Motherfuckers showed up at my door, asking me where I was going. I said, ‘Obviously you know, you little snoops’. Said they didn’t want me leaving U.S. airspace. Made it sound all official and shit, but they were probably bluffing, sneaky shits. They’re hounding me like I owe them my soul when my time is up, y’know? Hellhounds on my trail, as the song goes.”
    “Didn’t think you were much for the blues,” Lars said.
    “I am when I’m fuckin’ living it. After the shit went down with Mitch, they had some kind of an in. They started turning