Color drained as Lee whispered, “He’ll kill me if I say.”
A quick flex of Row’s bicep had his brother gasping. “I’ll kill you right now if you don’t.”
Lee didn’t need extra convincing. “He’s in Louisiana. Him and Stephen.”
Max’s chest tightened. “Who’s he meeting there?”
Lee’s bulging eyes flashed to him, growing even wider as he guessed his identity. “Don’t know. They never told me nothing ’bout their plans, just to wait for word.”
Green eyes flashed silver as Max leaned in closer. “Oh, I think you can come up with something worth your miserable life.”
The harsh stink of urine was followed by a babbled, “If I knew, I’d tell you. Don’t kill me!”
“If he doesn’t know anything, he’s not worth keeping alive.”
When Row’s arm jerked tight, Lee gasped, “I know where the money is!” He wheezed noisily when the pressure lessened. “It’s in my safe.” He pointed to a credenza. “I took it after Kip started sniffing around in the accounts. It’s all there, mostly. I only took what I needed.”
“What you needed for your hookers and blow?” Sylvia sneered. “Where’s your family, Lee?”
“In Reno. I made sure May and the girls were kept away from all this. They don’t know what we’ve done. They’re not to blame for any of it. Don’t hurt them!”
“We’re not in the business of hurting innocent families, you shit,” Turow growled, “the way you did when you burned Kip’s and Colin’s alive.”
Real tears streaming, Lee shook his head. “I didn’t know, not until after it was too late. I never . . . I never . . .”
Turow shoved away from him. “Write down the combination and how we can reach May.”
While Lee scribbled, Max studied a small portrait of a softly pretty female embracing young girls. Lee Terriot’s family. When the trembling prince pushed the information to Turow, Max tossed him the photo.
“Nice family. What would they think of what you’ve become?”
Lee had no answer.
After Sylvia used the numbers to open the safe and began shoving cash and bonds into a quickly-emptied briefcase, Lee sniveled, “W-what happens to me?”
Row glared down at his anxious brother. “You’ll go with us. Cale’ll want to hear what you have to say before he decides what to do with you.”
Lee studied the picture for a long moment before whispering, “And you’ll make sure no harm comes to them.”
Features softening briefly, Sylvia vowed, “They’ll be safe. That’s a promise I’d never break.”
Expelling a shaky breath, Lee nodded. “Thank you.” To his brother, he asked, “Can I clean myself up first? I got a change of clothes in the bathroom.”
Turow gestured toward the en-suite. “Go ahead. Leave the door open.”
Lee set the photo atop his desk with a careful reverence before rising on unsteady legs. “I’m sorry,” he offered weakly before stumbling into the bathroom and switching on the light.
When they heard water running, Max gestured to the desk Lee vacated. “Worth a looksee.”
Together, he and Turow tossed the drawers, gathering up anything of potential interest to take with them until Sylvia checked her watch and proclaimed, “We need to move.”
Nodded at that wisdom, Turow strode to the bath, calling, “Time’s up. Let’s go.” Then his sharp explicative had the other two crowding behind him to stand in the overflow from the sink.
Lee Terriot sat wide-eyed, pale, and lifeless on the closed toilet lid, slumped against the vanity where water sluiced over the clawed hand that had torn open his jugular.
“Gotta go.” Sylvia tugged on her mate’s arm to break his shock. “Leave him.”
“I can’t,” Turow argued softly. “He’s my brother. I need to send him on his way.”
Sylvia cast a hopeful glance at Max who shrugged. Terriot religious practices were out of his jurisdiction. She cursed softly and stalked back into the office to snatch a bottle of expensive cognac off the bar cart, upended the contents over the body.
“There. Send him and let’s get out of here.” She stuffed a book of the casino’s complimentary matches into her mate’s hand. “But we’re not staying long enough to release his ashes. He doesn’t deserve that after what he helped them do to our home and our people.”
Turow nodded. He’d done what he could for that weak soul, enough to ease his brothers’ sorrow when he brought home the news. He struck the first match. As flames ignited, he returned to the office, retrieved his brother’s laptop from the desk and headed for the door. Sylvia backed out