Blind Tiger - Sandra Brown Page 0,108

possible Mr. Hutton’s hunch about him is wrong.”

“Just as possible that he’s right, though, Laurel. Remember, I told you it was rumored that a bootlegger from Dallas was a big-time operator around here? Could be Landry’s him. Hutton must think so, or he wouldn’t’ve gone out of his way to tell you.”

“That wasn’t all he came to tell me. You’ll be glad to know that Sheriff Amos is letting you off the hook, this time, in the hope that you’ve learned your lesson.”

“And I hope you’ve learned yours.” He shook his finger at her. “Out at Lefty’s, you’re in danger of more than bootleggers. Don’t go there again.”

“I won’t.” When he looked sternly doubtful, she stressed that she wouldn’t. “I only went to seal your deal. The O’Connors will be making the deliveries.”

“Larger deliveries.”

“Which is what we were going for, Irv. Remember?”

“There’s nothing the matter with my memory. But our gain represents a loss to competitors. I’m all for increasing our business, but not if it means that one or all of us will meet with bodily harm.”

“I’ll be doubly discreet and careful.”

“Warn those twins not to be so damn cocky, but don’t tell them why. Keep it general.”

“You still don’t trust them.”

“Never have trusted men with dimples.”

She laughed. “What do you have against dimples?”

He went on as though she hadn’t interrupted. “Ernie and Corrine need to be put on watch, too.”

“Because of the theft, Ernie is already on alert.”

“How’d Ernie take to Corrine?”

She hedged. “She’ll grow on him.”

He barked a laugh. “Don’t count on it. He’s used to his own company and silence. God knows he’ll have precious little of that.”

Laurel smiled. “I have pies to bake today, but I’ll drive out and check on them tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll have several crates of whiskey ready for me.”

“Speaking of, I could do with a nip.”

“At bedtime.”

“I just woke up.”

“At bedtime.”

“I’m hurting now.”

“Part of the healing process.” She stood up and straightened the cover where she’d been sitting at the foot of his bed. He was idly scratching his chin again. “Your stubble is itching. Would you like a shave?”

“No.”

“I’m happy to do it.”

He waved off the offer. “I’m thinking, is all.”

“Something’s gnawing at you, Irv. What?”

“You say you introduced Hutton to the twins? How’d that go?”

“All right. After they shook hands, I sent the twins on their way.”

In giving Irv an account of last night’s visit from Thatcher, she had omitted certain details, one being the hostility that had crackled between him and the O’Connors. She also didn’t tell him that Thatcher had questioned her about the deliveries the twins made to Ranger, or that Sheriff Amos had pointed the O’Connors out to Thatcher while referring to them as wild. Nor did she mention that Thatcher had asked who supplied Irv’s moonshine.

Unabridged honesty could set his recovery back for weeks, which was how she justified those omissions. Even so, his forehead remained furrowed.

“This warning from Hutton about Chester Landry worries me,” he said. “It should worry you, too, Laurel. My advice is to steer clear of the man.”

“I plan to, whether or not he’s into bootlegging.”

Irv peered up at her through his lowered brows. “I wasn’t referring to Landry.”

* * *

Bernie Croft had eaten a late breakfast at Martin’s Café. Rather than ride to his office, he’d chosen to walk the short distance and was almost there when a deranged individual lunged at him from out of a narrow alleyway.

He was grabbed roughly by the lapel of his suit coat, jerked into the space between the two buildings, and forcefully pushed against a brick wall. Hands closed around his neck and began to choke him.

Dr. Gabe Driscoll was barely recognizable. His eyes were bloodshot. His bared and clenched teeth looked feral. But his fingers were like steel clamps around Bernie’s throat. “I’m going to kill you.”

Bernie gasped, “Jesus Christ, Gabe.” He planted his hands on the physician’s chest and pushed with all his might.

Obviously in a weakened state, Gabe wasn’t that hard to dislodge. He reeled backward and landed against the opposite brick wall, his shoulder catching the brunt of the impact. He clapped his hand over his rotator cuff and yelped in pain.

Hennessy came bounding in from the end of the alley. Bernie held up a hand. The bodyguard skidded to a halt. “I’m all right,” Bernie said. “But don’t let anybody wander in here.”

Hennessy looked at Driscoll with misgiving. Bernie patted the air. “It’s fine, Jimmy.” Hennessy backed out of the alley and posted himself at the entrance

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