Grab
Page 9
She looked over at Christian. He'd changed. Maybe others wouldn't have noticed, but to her, a student of body language, it was like riding with a completely different man. He sat straighter. His shoulders implied confidence and ability. And there was a hardness in his face that hadn't ever been there before.
He said, "Your pride is wounded. As it should be. But you should know something."
"What's that?"
"I am the very best in the world at what I do. The game was over before it ever started. It was like a middle school kid trying to compete in the PGA Championship."
"Are you even a therapist?"
"Read a couple books. But it wouldn't be fair to say I had a practice. Or a diploma. You were my only client."
"How the hell did you do this? And why?"
"You first fell on my radar while you were still in prison. Friend mentioned you to me. Your work with Javier Estrada and Jack Fitch in the Keys was very impressive. Even then, I wanted to work with you, but I worried about your self-destructive tendencies."
Beyond the windows, the vegetation was shrinking, browning.
He said, "When you turned up in Charleston, I went to Charleston."
"But I came to you."
"Think back to how you first heard about me."
"One of the girls in the halfway house recommended you. She told me you'd changed her life. Gave me your card."
"Her name was Samantha and I paid her five thousand dollars to steer you to me."
"Jesus. You've been running this grift on me for half a year. But you helped me. You actually helped me."
"I'm glad. Although that wasn't really the purpose."
"I told you everything about me. Things nobody else knew."
"I wouldn't have had it any other way. I've never taken an interest in anyone with such intensity. I had to know you inside and out, Letty. Your secrets and fears. I needed to see your naked soul."
"It was a violation."
"Yes, but a necessary one."
"You were planning Vegas from the beginning?"
"No, that fell in my lap last month. Vegas was never the end goal."
"So what was?"
"You. Meeting you. Vetting you. Learning everything about you."
"I left Charleston and came west on my own. That was my decision."
"Was it really? Let's think back to the day you decided to leave. What happened?"
"A customer harassed me. I fought back. My boss fired me."
"Because I paid them to. I wanted you to leave town. You'd been talking about it already. You just needed a push."
"You sent me to Isaiah?"
"In a back channel sort of way. I knew he was planning to rip me off. You might even say I was so unreasonable in my terms that I encouraged it. Isaiah's ambitious and fearless. But he's lucky I didn't leave him in the desert. I figured if he wanted to do the hard work, let him. I had Javier recommend you to him."
"So I could get on the inside and you could manipulate me."
"So I could manipulate everyone. It's what I do. I took down a casino, kept one hundred percent of the haul, and all I did was drive. And I didn't even have to do that, but I wanted to see you under pressure."
"How'd you know I'd ask you to drive us?"
"I set it up perfectly. I had helped you with your addiction. Here was a chance for you to return the favor. Give me a taste of excitement. Snap me out of my misery. Possibly save my life. Even if you hadn't called, I had alternate plans to catch up with Isaiah's crew. I'd have won no matter what you did, Letty."
"Who's the man I stole the phone from?"
"My face. I have many of them. He's probably breaking it to the crew right now that Isaiah got the better of us. And despite the fact that you tried to rip me off, you're going to get paid, Letty. Won't be seven million. But it won't be shabby."
"What'd you do to Mark?"
"He's fine. Talented kid. Maid will find him tied up in my suite tomorrow morning. We'll work together at some point in the future. As I hope you and I will. The real stars of the show," he said, "are your hands. That grab you did in the Wynn casino was in the top three I've ever seen."
"You were there?"
"I was everywhere. You're an unpolished diamond, Letty."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Coming from me? Yes. You've got more raw talent than I've ever seen crammed into one person. But you're self-destructive."
"I'm fighting it. I'll always be fighting it. You know that."
"You're good now," he said, "but I could make you great."
The road stretched on for miles—a straight shot into hell. It dipped steadily toward a valley floor distorted by heat shimmer.
"Is that Death Valley?" she asked.
"Yep. Your purse and phone are in the back seat, by the way."
Letty glanced back, saw her belongings, and then a wall of black duffle bags stacked where the third row seating had been removed.
"It's your pride," he said. "It's working against you right now. It's whispering, 'who's this guy to tell me my business?'"
But he was wrong.
She said, "You couldn't be more off base."
"No?"
"I'm not perfect. But I'm woman enough to admit when I've had my ass handed to me. I am hurt though."
"You'll get over it. There's this job," he said.
"Yeah?"
"It's a little ways off. You aren't ready yet. But you could be."
"As you know, I was on my way to Oregon when I got drawn into all this. There's nothing more important to me than seeing Jacob."
"But after that? Would you be up for some real work?"
"Vegas wasn't real enough for you?"
"My next job makes Vegas look like a child's prank. It'd be dangerous. You could lose your life. Or spend the rest of it in prison. But if there aren't stakes, what's the fun, right? Might as well rob 7-Elevens."
And if it keeps my mind off using...
She let her head rest against the glass. The desert heat pushing through like a plague.
Suit up and show up.
"What exactly are you proposing here?" she asked.
"I know you now, as well as you know yourself. And I might even trust you. That's all this was ever about. Let me help you take your game to the next level. Let me make you world-class."
"Are you lonely at the top? Is that it?"
"You're the first person I've met in a long time that might, someday, be able to keep up with me. Just imagine what we could accomplish together..."
"I'll think about it," she said. "So is there a first name you want to let me in on? Or do you go by that iconic last?"
He didn't look over, but he smiled at the windshield as the road ahead dropped toward the lowest point in North America.
"No," he said. "When I'm with friends, all I answer to is Richter."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Blake Crouch is the author of over a dozen bestselling suspense, mystery, and horror novels. His short fiction has appeared in numerous short story anthologies, Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, Cemetery Dance, and many other publications. Much of his work, including the Wayward Pines series, has been optioned for TV and film. Blake lives in Colorado. To learn more, follow him on Twitter, Facebook, or visit his website, www.blakecrouch.com.
BLAKE CROUCH'S FULL CATALOG
Wayward Pines Series
Pines
Andrew Z. Thomas Series
Desert Places
Locked Doors
Break You
Stirred (with J.A. Konrath)
The Serial Series (with J.A. Konrath and Jack Kilborn)
Serial (short story)
Bad Girl (short story)
Serial Uncut (novella)
Killers (novella)
Birds of Prey (novel)
Killers Uncut (novel)
Serial Killers Uncut (double novel)
Other Novels
Run
Abandon
Snowbound
Famous
Eerie with Jordan Crouch
Draculas with JA Konrath, Jeff Strand and F. Paul Wilson
Short Stories, Novellas, and Collections
Hunting Season with Selena Kitt (short story)
*69 (short story)
Remaking (short story)
On the Good, Red Road (short story)
Shining Rock (short story)
The Meteorologist (short story)
Unconditional (short story)
Perfect Little Town (horror novella)
The Pain of Others (Letty Dobesh #1)(novella)
Sunset Key (Letty Dobesh #2)(novella)
Grab (Letty Dobesh #3)(novella)
Four Live Rounds (collected stories)
Six in the Cylinder (collected stories)
Fully Loaded (complete collected stories)
Box Sets
Thicker Than Blood: The Complete Andrew Z. Thomas Series
The Fear Trilogy: Run, Snowbound, and Abandon
Copyright © 2013 by Blake Crouch
Cover art copyright © 2013 by Jeroen ten Berge
All rights reserved.
GRAB is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For more information about the author, please visit www.blakecrouch.com.
For more information about the artist, please visit www.jeroentenberge.com.