CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He enjoyed another bite of the sausage roll seasoned with hot mustard and looked back to his laptop. The midday numbers looked promising, but he’d have to put more pressure on the Seattle shipping. They were still behind on their payments. I can’t afford any more losses.

One of his phones rang, and gray-haired Burke moved across the room to answer it.

Fall had brought an early chill to the hills here. However, it was warm enough that he didn’t need the heat until the evening, and the pines would remain green all year long. He preferred Mexico in the thick of winter. A lively people even if the food lacked. They used spices like garnish. All his people could cook a decent meal. It just took getting the proper provisions.

Burke lifted the phone off his ear. “Milton. Manager at the storage company. Someone asking about Sirota Imports.”

Who would be asking about that company? Blast. Mark Colman’s name wasn’t off the company yet, it would take until the end of the week. Will this fiasco never end?

Taking a breath to calm himself, he waved for the phone. “Milton. Who’s asking?”

“Sir. A man and a woman. Bikers.”

“Describe them. Detail. What did they say? Exactly.”

“Tall, both of them. The woman had light brown skin, tall — I said that — pretty with long black hair. Dark eyes.” Milton sounded nervous.

Hadhira Dawson. She kept digging. He had people on payroll to make sure this investigation moved quickly onto the daft girlfriend.

Milton continued, “The man had a long braid — head shaved on one side — left I think. Light skin. Reddish hair. Messed up nose — like he broke it.”

This intern might put a bug in everything. She’d dragged other people in with her now. I need a good witness. Someone who would know enough to stay away from her and lock down the girlfriend, then it wouldn’t matter what Hadhira dug up.

“And what did they say?” He glanced outside at the hills and green treetops. This little man had always annoyed him.

“She knew the address, and wanted to know if I knew anything about the company. Mentioned Mark Colman. I said no, of course.”

Another phone rang, and Burke moved toward the outer edge of the dining room before he answered it.

What had started as a good day slowly soured. I don’t have time for this. He pushed his lunch aside. The smell of sausage had lost its appeal.

“If she comes back, call me,” he said, hanging up in the middle of Milton saying goodbye and hoping that he’d done everything right.

His men had a look when he started to lose his temper. Burke had that expression now as he held up the phone. “Dmitry.”

He waved, speaking as Burke handed the phone over, muted. “Get me everything on Hadhira Dawson.”

Burke nodded and pulled out his cell.

“Brother, how are you?” he asked.

“Little Brother. I would be better if you weren’t causing such a scene in America.” His Russian accent came through thick. It had gotten worse since he moved there.

“I’ve got it handled.” In truth, he’d made mistakes and had a mess to clean up. Best if the intern just disappears.

“I don’t intend to lose everything because you can’t control yourself. Ever since Guatemala, someone’s been asking around about the incident there. You know that. You need to learn to clean up after yourself. You can’t figure out how to hide the bodies?”

He replied through gritted teeth, “I’ve got it handled.”

“Clean up your messes. I’ll be out soon, we need to talk.” Dmitry said.

I don’t need your help. He threw the phone and snarled.

The tone rang.

Fire blossomed across his table, the laptop went dead and sparked.

Pain seared across his body.

He dropped into the visions.