Read Online Who Killed Tiffany Jones? by Mavis Kaye - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mavis Kaye
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dealing with some ruthless folks. Your daddy and your highfalutin’ lawyer brother ain’t gonna be able to protect you. I’m not even sure that I can.”
“Spit it out, Winston. What are you—”
“Stay clear of the Vietnamese girl. I’m just warning you for your family’s sake—especially with your brother planning to run for gover-nor some day, and maybe even the Senate. If anything blows up, everybody is going to get hurt. You don’t have to admit it or deny it, all I come to say is that folks are worried and some folks are hoppin’ mad.”
“You know, I don’t think anybody’s worried except you, and I’m not falling for your scam. My business is my own, and I’m advising you to stay out of it.”
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Clyde started to speak again, but before he could utter another word, K. J. turned and abruptly stormed away, leaving the old man standing alone. As far as K. J. could see, there was no need to continue the conversation. He was convinced it was a shakedown and, until he discovered exactly what the old man knew, he wasn’t saying anything else. Klaus had been evasive, but he had warned him that things might get sticky. Still, K. J. hadn’t expected it to happen this quickly. He had also been told not to panic—just wait and ride it out. But with Clyde sniffing at his heels, he felt he had to do something. At least get on a secure phone, make some calls, and attempt to protect himself. For that, he couldn’t return to his ranch. He had to get to his hideaway, the condo he kept under an assumed name in Arlington for anonymous trysts or just to cool out and disappear. With the exception of Sally Brierton, the cute cocktail waitress he picked up at Avanti, and a few high-class call girls, no one even knew he owned it.
K. J. was headed toward the exit when Brigette intercepted him.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.
Anyway, I thought we were going to get together later.”
“We’ll have to take a rain check; something unexpected has come up. I have to leave.” He pulled away from her and started toward the door, then, thinking about their earlier foreplay, turned back. “You know, you could come with me. After this is settled, I’ll need some TLC.”
“I’d love to,” she said, “but I have to get back to the booth. I’m talking to a buyer. Besides, don’t you think one of us should stay here and keep an eye on the goods? Why don’t you call me when you get on the road—we’ll arrange something for later.”
“Sounds like a plan, honey. See you later.”
K. J. hurried to the check-out desk, tossed his room key at the clerk, and told her to check him out of his room and put the bill on his tab.
“And buzz valet parking, have them bring my car around,” he said, striding toward the entrance.
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W H O K I L L E D T I F FA N Y J O N E S ?
Outside, he paced nervously as he waited for the car. He wasn’t sure how he would solve this, but he knew he had to get back to Klaus and find out more. If that didn’t work, he’d have to go even higher. He felt that he’d been played into a corner without wiggle room, but he was sure he’d survive. Ever since his college days on the football field, he’d managed to find a way to get over no matter what the odds were. This was no different, he told himself.
The green Porsche screeched to a halt in front of the hotel and a pimple-faced teenager stepped out smiling as if he’d just been to Dis-neyland. K. J. sneered at him but still slapped a ten-dollar bill in his hand before sliding into the driver’s seat. He had just bought the Porsche to replace his year-old Ferrari, and he didn’t appreciate the way the kid handled it. He lit a Cuban cigar before angrily pulling away from the hotel onto Akard Street.
“Damn Germans just make a more reliable car than the Italians,”
he said
“Spit it out, Winston. What are you—”
“Stay clear of the Vietnamese girl. I’m just warning you for your family’s sake—especially with your brother planning to run for gover-nor some day, and maybe even the Senate. If anything blows up, everybody is going to get hurt. You don’t have to admit it or deny it, all I come to say is that folks are worried and some folks are hoppin’ mad.”
“You know, I don’t think anybody’s worried except you, and I’m not falling for your scam. My business is my own, and I’m advising you to stay out of it.”
16470_ch01.qxd 7/12/02 4:33 PM Page 49
“ M a v i s K a y e ”
49
Clyde started to speak again, but before he could utter another word, K. J. turned and abruptly stormed away, leaving the old man standing alone. As far as K. J. could see, there was no need to continue the conversation. He was convinced it was a shakedown and, until he discovered exactly what the old man knew, he wasn’t saying anything else. Klaus had been evasive, but he had warned him that things might get sticky. Still, K. J. hadn’t expected it to happen this quickly. He had also been told not to panic—just wait and ride it out. But with Clyde sniffing at his heels, he felt he had to do something. At least get on a secure phone, make some calls, and attempt to protect himself. For that, he couldn’t return to his ranch. He had to get to his hideaway, the condo he kept under an assumed name in Arlington for anonymous trysts or just to cool out and disappear. With the exception of Sally Brierton, the cute cocktail waitress he picked up at Avanti, and a few high-class call girls, no one even knew he owned it.
K. J. was headed toward the exit when Brigette intercepted him.
“What’s the hurry?” she asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.
Anyway, I thought we were going to get together later.”
“We’ll have to take a rain check; something unexpected has come up. I have to leave.” He pulled away from her and started toward the door, then, thinking about their earlier foreplay, turned back. “You know, you could come with me. After this is settled, I’ll need some TLC.”
“I’d love to,” she said, “but I have to get back to the booth. I’m talking to a buyer. Besides, don’t you think one of us should stay here and keep an eye on the goods? Why don’t you call me when you get on the road—we’ll arrange something for later.”
“Sounds like a plan, honey. See you later.”
K. J. hurried to the check-out desk, tossed his room key at the clerk, and told her to check him out of his room and put the bill on his tab.
“And buzz valet parking, have them bring my car around,” he said, striding toward the entrance.
16470_ch01.qxd 7/12/02 4:33 PM Page 50
50
W H O K I L L E D T I F FA N Y J O N E S ?
Outside, he paced nervously as he waited for the car. He wasn’t sure how he would solve this, but he knew he had to get back to Klaus and find out more. If that didn’t work, he’d have to go even higher. He felt that he’d been played into a corner without wiggle room, but he was sure he’d survive. Ever since his college days on the football field, he’d managed to find a way to get over no matter what the odds were. This was no different, he told himself.
The green Porsche screeched to a halt in front of the hotel and a pimple-faced teenager stepped out smiling as if he’d just been to Dis-neyland. K. J. sneered at him but still slapped a ten-dollar bill in his hand before sliding into the driver’s seat. He had just bought the Porsche to replace his year-old Ferrari, and he didn’t appreciate the way the kid handled it. He lit a Cuban cigar before angrily pulling away from the hotel onto Akard Street.
“Damn Germans just make a more reliable car than the Italians,”
he said
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