Page 73 of Fear of Flames
* * *
Plan B was the most sustainable. No taking children from families with resources for the time being. Instead, his people would concentrate on homeless camps, socially and economically challenged neighborhoods, and Title One schools. Those children could go missing without the fanfare surrounding the Wells boy and the other girl…Jensen or Janson. Rick couldn’t remember the name.
He preferred not to know names. Give him numbers.
Numbers paid.
Rick sent a text to Ralph Perkins.
* * *
“What am I seeing on TV? Call me.”
* * *
He looked at his phone as if wanting and willing it to ring. Rick’s patience with the good sheriff of Iron Falls was running thin. It might be time to do something about him.
Yes, if Rick took care of the Iron Falls problem completely, it would ensure the investors that the problem was solved. There were five more people out there for every one person on his payroll.
He looked up at the headline again. A particular part caught his attention. Yacht seized.
Shit, that was a problem.
Rick turned down the volume at the ring of his personal phone. The name Perkins was on the screen.
Rick hit the green icon and began speaking without a greeting. “The news out of your town continues to hit the national cycle.”
“Listen, we’re in good shape. They’re framing Shelly for what happened up here. We’re downplaying the damn shed. In a few days, the country will be talking about the serial arsonist who killed her parents. They’ll probably make up a song. You know, like Lizzy Borden.” He half sang, half spoke the Lizzy Borden tune. “Shelly Holdcraft struck a match.”
“Fuck, Perkins, are you drunk?” Rick looked at the clock. It wasn’t even ten in the morning.
“I’m not drunk. I’m relieved. The attention will be on Shelly and not on Iron Falls.”
“What about the fucking press conference from Nova Scotia? All the evidence goes to your boy Dennis. I don’t give a fuck what the country is talking about. Someone cleaned out that shed. Someone who was working with him. That means that someone else could know about your connection.” He hated to say the next part. “And my connection.” Rick lowered his voice. “The thing is, without you, no one can prove we’re connected.”
Ralph’s tone lowered. “I’m doing my damn best here. I’m getting tired of your threats.”
Rick’s phone beeped in his ear. He pulled the screen away and looked at the name. Rick’s stomach dropped and perspiration formed on his brow and palms. “I’ll let you know when the next transport is coming through. Until then, try to stay off the fucking national news.” He disconnected Ralph’s call.
He answered the incoming one. “Sir?”
“We need to talk.”
Chapter
Thirty-Five
While Fletch had taken Michelle on a walking tour of the complex on Sunday, Monday was her first official appointment. There were more people out and about the complex. Their breath crystalized in the frigid air as they walked to where Michelle would be tested. “What if I fail?”
Fletch reached for her glove-covered hand and squeezed. “There’s no failing or passing. These evaluations help the agency understand your baseline understanding and skills. From there, you improve.”
She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder. “I appreciate your belief in me.”
“I could say it’s from years of listening to Denny.” He stopped walking and took both her hands. “That’s part of it. I believe in you.”
“I do better when I hide behind a made-up persona. D. Valentine is more self-assured than Michelle Holdcraft.”
“You’re the same person. D. Valentine wouldn’t exist without you. But when you’re in there with Olivia, be whoever feels right.”
