that air of menace. And it gave him an edge in business negotiation.
Arielle knew that he was about to turn it on.
He opened his eyes. His expression was blank as he unlaced his fingers and slowly brought his hands down to the armrests of the chair. He began to lean forward, gradually bringing his gaze down until he was eye to eye with Terry.
Favor squared his shoulders. The impatience drained out of Terry’s face as Favor fixed him with an unblinking look.
Terry blinked and nervously licked his lips.
That’ll cost you, Arielle thought.
“This is all in the proposal, right?” Favor said. “Anything here that’s not in the package?”
“No,” Terry said. “This is just a more visual presentation.”
“I don’t care about visuals,” Favor said.
“I’m sorry,” Terry said.
“I read the proposal. I liked it.”
“That’s great,” Terry said.
“You did your homework. You have a good idea; I think it’ll fly.”
“We have a deal?” Terry said.
“I want three and a half points at the front end,” Favor said. “Then we have a deal.”
“That’s a lot, three and a half points.”
“I don’t need an answer right away. You take a little time, talk it over. Give me your answer by six o’clock.”
“Three and a half points seems excessive,” Terry said. “Can we meet somewhere in the middle?”
“Three and a half points, nonnegotiable. I know that sounds tough, but I think you’ll see there’s enough left to still make it worth doing.” Favor stood. “Or not. I really don’t give a shit.”
The three developers were staring at him. Arielle was staring at him.
“Excuse me?” Terry said.
“Do it, don’t do it, it’s really all the same to me.” He looked at Arielle. “I’ll be out the rest of the day.” To the developers he said, “You guys have a good one.”
He turned and walked out of the room.
The developers left grumbling, but less than an hour later they called back to accept the deal. Arielle took the message and phoned Favor with the news.
“You now have three partners in Tulsa,” she said.
“I figured.”
“That was quite a move. ‘I really don’t give a shit’—that’s playing some hardball.”
“It wasn’t a play,” Favor said. “I mean it. I really don’t care if we do it or not.”
“Ray, this is a nice deal. Could be extremely nice.”
“Uh-huh. How nice, you think?”
“You’re asking me?” she said. “I think in a year you make back what you already have in the land. After that, you have a nice, steady revenue stream. I’d say six hundred K per annum as a floor, maybe a million a year in a good year, with no obligation for you except to cash the checks. Not bad for some raggedy-ass trash land that you bought with fifty thousand down.”
“That’s about how I read it,” he said.
“You’re complaining about that?” she said.
“Not complaining. It just doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What does it change?” Favor said. “Does my life get better? Will a million a year let me do anything I couldn’t already do?”
“I guess you already do whatever you want.”
“There you go,” he said. “I mean, it sounds great, six hundred K, a million a year. There was a time when that would have mattered. Not anymore. Not even close. Ergo, it doesn’t matter. Ergo, I really don’t give a shit whether the deal happens or not.”
Arielle didn’t know what to say.
“You want it?” Favor said after a few moments. “Take it, it’s yours.”
“No. It’s not my deal.”
“Up to you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ari. I’ll be in around noon. We get to do this all over again. The wheels on the bus go round and round.”
He clicked off.
Arielle listened to the silence in her earpiece, then called two numbers in quick succession.
In a workshop surrounded by a redwood forest outside Mendocino, California, Winston Stickney was bent over a bench where two vises gripped a shaft of burnished blue steel. He was peering through a welder’s mask as he used a plasma arc torch to burn a precise curving cut across the shaft. Stickney was now an artist and sculptor, best known for his intricate installations of welded steel. He was nearly finished with his cut when the phone rang on the wall of the workshop. He heard it dimly over the loud hiss of the torch, but he kept working. When the cut was complete a few seconds later, he put down the torch head, flipped up the mask, and went to pick up the phone.
The second call went to Alex Mendonza at the personal protection company in Los Angeles.