The Firm Page 0,148

door and watch for two minutes. Let me know if you see them."

Two minutes later, he was back. "They're gone."

Mitch kept his seat and smiled at the door. "Great. I want one of those kelly-green sport coats, forty-four long, and a pair of white buckskins, ten D. Bring them here, would you? And keep watching."

"Yes, sir." He whistled around the store as he collected the coat and shoes, then slid them under the door. Mitch yanked off his tie and changed quickly. He sat down.

"How much do I owe you?" Mitch asked from the room.

"Well, let's see. How about five hundred?"

"Fine. Call me a cab, and let me know when it's outside."

Tarrance walked three miles around his desk. The call was traced to the Peabody, but Laney arrived too late. He was back now, sitting nervously with Acklin. Forty minutes after the first call, the secretary's voice blasted through the intercom. "Mr. Tarrance. It's McDeere."

Tarrance lunged at the phone. "Where are you?"

"In town. But not for long."

"Look, Mitch, you won't last two days on your own. They'll fly in enough thugs to start another war. You've got to let us help you."

"I don't know, Tarrance. For some strange reason I just don't trust you boys right now. I can't imagine why. Just a bad feeling."

"Please, Mitch. Don't make this mistake."

"I guess you want me to believe you boys can protect me for the rest of my life. Sorta funny, isn't it, Tarrance? I cut a deal with the FBI, and I almost get gunned in my own office. That's real protection."

Tarrance breathed deeply into the phone. There was a long pause. "What about the documents? We've paid you a million for them."

"You're cracking up, Tarrance. You paid me a million for my clean files. You got them, and I got the million. Of course, that was just part of the deal. Protection was also a part of it."

"Give us the damned files, Mitch. They're hidden somewhere close to us, you told me that. Take off if you want to, but leave the files."

"Won't work, Tarrance. Right now I can disappear, and the Moroltos may or may not come after me. If you don't get the files, you don't get the indictments. If the Moroltos don't get indicted, maybe, if I'm lucky, one day they'll just forget about me. I gave them a real scare, but no permanent damage. Hell, they may even hire me back one of these days."

"You don't really believe that. They'll chase you until they find you. If we don't get the records, we'll be chasing too. It's that simple, Mitch."

"Then I'll put my money on the Moroltos. If you guys find me first, there'll be a leak. Just a small one."

"You're outta your mind, Mitch. If you think you can take your million and ride into the sunset, you're a fool. They'll have goons on camels riding the deserts looking for you. Don't do it, Mitch."

"Goodbye, Wayne. Ray sends his regards."

The line was dead. Tarrance grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall.

Mitch glanced at the clock on the airport wall. He punched in another call. Tammy answered.

"Hello, sweetheart. Hate to wake you."

"Don't worry, the couch kept me awake. What's up?"

"Major trouble. Get a pencil and listen very carefully. I don't have a second to waste. I'm running, and they're right behind me."

"Fire away."

"First, call Abby at her parents'. Tell her to drop everything and get out of town. She doesn't have time to kiss her mother goodbye or to pack any clothes. Tell her to drop the phone, get in her car and drive away. And don't look back. She takes Interstate 64 to Huntington, West Virginia, and goes to the airport. She flies from Huntington to Mobile. In Mobile, she rents a car and drives east on Interstate 10 to Gulf Shores, then east on Highway 182 to Perdido Beach. She checks in at the Perdido Beach Hilton under the name of Rachel James. And she waits. Got that?"

"Yeah."

"Second. I need you to get on a plane and fly to Memphis. I called Doc, and the passports, etc., are not ready. I cussed him, but to no avail. He promised to work all night and have them ready in the morning. I will not be here in the morning, but you will. Get the documents."

"Yes, sir."

"Third. Get on a plane and get back to the apartment in Nashville. Sit by the phone. Do not, under any circumstances, leave the phone."

"Got it."

"Fourth. Call Abanks."

"Okay.