Unlawful Chase, C.J. Schnier [best book clubs TXT] 📗

if not predictable. Sadly, I hear he and his troops ran off the side of a cliff in the dark. Now I will have to learn the quirks of whoever Castro chooses to replace him with. But, that is the cost of doing business."

I nodded, processing everything I had heard. It had all been a huge scam. The idol was technically worthless. Pruitt was merely a con artist playing power games. I could understand that. Hell, part of me respected that. It took both balls and brains to pull off something with as many moving parts as this heist.

"Well Pruitt, I have to give it to you, that is a hell of a con that you've pulled. But you and I have unfinished business," I said.

"Oh yes, your money," he said.

And the recording you have of me?" I asked. The money was all nice and good, but I wasn't about to let him hold anything over my head.

Pruitt reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew a small electronic device and flipped it through the air towards me. I snatched it out of the air. On the side of it was a small, green arrow shaped button. I pressed it and heard my voice come out of the speaker.

"I stole that boat to get enough money to pay off the cartel," and then a moment later, "If there is one thing I regret about Raul Acosta's death, it's that I couldn't think of a way to kill him myself. I had to get someone else to do it."

"Is that the only copy?" I asked, pocketing the device.

"That is the only one," Adrian confirmed.

"And why should I believe you?" I asked.

"You can choose to believe me or not, but I assure you that is the only copy. I may be a lot of things Captain Hawkins, but I always keep to my deals. And besides, we both know you did this for the adventure just as much as the money."

There was no way for me to know if he was lying or not, and in his place I would have certainly made another copy. I simply had to trust that he wouldn't use the recording. Either way, I would have to treat Adrian Pruitt with caution in the future. I would also have to thank him.

He had been right about doing this job for the adventure. It had been dangerous and reckless, but it snapped me out of my depression and that had been worth the risks.

"And now your money," he said, snapping his fingers. "Liezer!"

The gigantic man produced a plain black sports bag and handed it to Pruitt, who handed it to me. The weight of it surprised me. Paper money was deceptively heavy. I placed it in a chair and unzipped the bag. Satisfied, I zipped the bag shut again and threw it over my shoulder.

"Are you happy?," Pruitt asked.

"You blackmailed me to enter Cuba illegally, steal a cultural artifact for you that you falsely inflated the value of, inadvertently killed a top government official that tried to stop you, and it only cost you three-hundred thousand dollars?"

"Money well spent," he replied. "Now if we're done, Mr. Liezer will have the helicopter pilot take you back to Marathon."

"Yeah, we're done, but are you sure I couldn't just call a cab?"

"You don't trust me?" Pruitt asked, feigning offense.

"Would you?" I retorted.

"Probably not, Captain Hawkins. Probably not. It's just not my style," he replied, sashaying back into the interior of the house, leaving me with his brute, Liezer.

"Don't worry," the goon said, ushering me out towards the waiting helicopter. "We won't kill you. Mr. Pruitt is already working on another job for you."

"Great," I muttered sarcastically. "I can't wait."

EPILOGUE

A shock of curly black hair framing olive skin and a gorgeous body caught my attention. She sat at the bar, alone, facing the wide canal that ran alongside the restaurant. Droplets of perspiration covered the glass of her empty drink. Beads of sweat formed and ran down the side of the glass as she drummed her fingernails against it.

I saddled up next to her, pushing a barstool out of the way. "Excuse me miss, can I buy you a drink?"

She turned and looked me over from head to toe. A coy smile crept across her lips and she nodded her head once.

"Sure, why not?" she said and then motioned to the empty stool, "Why don't you join me?"

I waved at the bartender, catching his attention. "Another one for the lady, and a rum and coke for me," I said, sliding into the stool.

"Well, it looks like Pruitt didn't kill you," Jaye said.

"No, but I was waiting for it the entire helicopter ride back here. I kept thinking about that scene in Scarface where they hang the guy from the helicopter."

"You're such a dork," she said, shaking her head.

Our drinks arrived and I put a crisp one-hundred dollar bill down on the bar. Both Jaye's and the bartender's eyebrows raised. The latter swiped it up and headed for the cash register.

"I take it he paid you, then?" she asked.

"He did," I confirmed. "And here's your half." I handed her a small blue drybag I picked up earlier in West Marine. "One hundred-and-fifty thousand dollars."

Jaye took the bag, her smile broadening. "That's a good start," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "That was our deal, we split it fifty-fifty."

"But you still owe me a plane."

"Oh come on!" I cried in exasperation, "Not that again. I rescued you from Bardales, that has to count for something."

"I wouldn't have needed rescuing if you hadn't destroyed my plane," she retorted.

"I didn't destroy it. I disabled it," I countered. "Bardales destroyed it."

"And because you disabled it, it got destroyed. It's your fault."

"Fine. I destroyed it," I said giving in.

"Then, the way I see it, you owe me," she said.

I nodded my head, reached in my pocket, and pulled out a small glass vial. I placed it on the bar