The Triggerman Dance

Holt did in fact sit in the theater after Fargo had gone, staring at the blank big-screen, listening to many things. He heard the wind moaning outside. He heard the cells replicating inside him. He heard Baum's voice—the self-righteous tone of outrage she used on TV—but now she was pleading for her life instead of a full-scale investigation into Patrick Holt's treatment of women. He heard Valerie's and Fargo's words. And he heard the quiet voice that always counseled him in times of engagement, now telling him that when he was gone, Fargo would do anything he had to get the Ops for himself.

John awoke at five a.m. after a dream in which Joshua, a six-gun in each hand, simultaneously blew away Vann Holt and John Menden. He was drenched in sweat. He listened to the sound of the wind rattling the windowpanes of his cottage. Valerie was huddled to the far end of the bed so he reached out and set his hand on her shoulder—so warm, so smooth. And now, he thought, it's time to betray you. In his state of half-consciousness he tried to let his mind find a way to take down Holt without breaking Valerie's heart. But the more he tried to find one, the more he awakened and the more impossible it became to even imagine such a way. It was the deal I made for you, dear woman, he thought, right from the beginning. Now comes the follow through.

So again his thoughts returned to Joshua, and the perilous course the agent had chosen. He had long understood that Joshua would risk everything he had to avenge Rebecca—this was the motor behind all that had happened in the last months. But not until last night had he realized that Joshua was willing to risk Baum, John himself, and even Sharon, in his unilateral charge of revenge. Everyone else would come second. John realized that on a primal level, Joshua needed to see him dead. John's death would be the purest retribution for what John had done with Rebecca, the purest defeat of a rival. Why not? Love and hate are always beyond control, and Joshua was clearly consumed. It was a gut-tightening idea, and John tried to purge it. But it was there just the same, along with the image of Joshua's face on the deck of his Laguna Canyon house last summer, when the agent pulled his gun and told him that he'd been looking for a way to contest John for Rebecca's long-cold heart.

With everything on the line at noon, John thought, Joshua's loyalties will finally lie with himself.

I'll be there.

But when? How? And to accomplish what?

John thought of Holt, and the possibility that Holt would dispose of him along with Baum, if he should fail in this assignment. What would Holt really like to give him, the keys to his kingdom or a bullet in the head?

With these realities in mind, John rose quietly from the bed, dressed and slipped out the door with his dogs. From the oak tree by the electric fence he retrieved the .45, and stashed it in the center console of his truck. When he got back into bed forty minutes later, Valerie hadn't moved.

CHAPTER 40

John guides his truck up the last steep incline at Top of the World. He's glad to be rid of Fargo, who frisked him twice before letting him through the main gate, then blatantly followed him all the way to Newport Beach and back. Baum sits beside him, dressed in a flowing bright green silk ensemble with a loose vest and oversized cuffs, huge sunglasses, heavy faux-emerald earrings and white high-top athletic shoes. At first, she took John's change of plan—we're going to Liberty Ridge—with a giddy acceptance. She'd silently evaluated the long, palm-lined drive up from the frontage road, the magnificent house and grounds, the windswept hills and Valencia groves. But now, as they climb the last few yards toward the vaults, John can feel her fingers digging into the flesh of his arm.

"He's actually going to be here?"

"Actually."

"And what about Josh? And Sharon?"

John slows the truck, then stops completely. He turns to Baum and lowers her sunglasses so he can look into her pale green eyes. "They'll be there. And Susan, if you much as imagine their names, it will get both of us killed instantly. That's the deal we have. Do you understand?"

"What I don't understand is why—"

He reaches out and takes her arm, hard. "—Then shut up and play along. It'll be over with soon."

"Oh, Gosh, as if that's supposed to console me. Who are you really working for, anyway? You're hurting my—"

"—I said shut up and play along. Act pissed off that I tricked you into this. That's all you need to do."

"I really am pissed off."

"Run with it."

He leaves the brakes, punches the gas and mounts the crest. His truck levels off and he pulls it over next to one of Holt's Rovers.

"I'll get the door," he says.