Arrow's Rest by Joel Scott (best books to read all time .TXT) 📗

up when it’s out in the middle of the Strait with nobody around for miles seems too well planned for Albright. I see him as more of a ‘go with your first impulse’ kind of guy.”

“I take your point,” Ivery said. “But what about those two security people who are always around him? I’m sure they are capable of something like that. They always struck me as a cold-blooded pair. Lizard eyes always watching you. Why in God’s name did I ever charter my boat out to Albright? I must have been crazy. As if there weren’t already enough connections between us.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Thomas said.

“Well, maybe not lately,” Ivery said. “But the past has a nasty habit of coming back around and biting you in the ass sometimes. The visit from Detective Clarke is only the beginning. I don’t think we can just sit here and wait for something bad to happen. Set up a meeting with Albright. I need to talk with him, see if I can get a handle on things. Just the two of us. Tell him to leave his cowboys at home.”

They ate their poached salmon and salad and watched the news but there were no new updates, and after dinner Thomas went into his office to make his phone calls. Ivery went back to his play trades, but his mind wasn’t into it. He closed the computer and wheeled himself into the hidden elevator and ascended to the loft. He thought about taking a pill but decided against it. The pain wasn’t too bad today. He’d save it for later or maybe even pass on it altogether if things didn’t get any worse. Every one skipped was a personal victory. He removed his clothes and lowered the harness down from the gantry and strapped himself in. He rose up and swung out over the pool and lowered himself down. A flick of the switch and the jets started up and music washed over him. He closed his eyes and let his mind escape his damaged body and float free.

Chapter 43

Cat was having some serious second thoughts. What had seemed like a great idea when she was back in the flat sipping her second glass of Chablis and contemplating her powers over men seemed much less so when she was strapped into a mini plane with her elbows practically touching both sides of the fuselage with a spotted juvenile delinquent yelling and chortling in the pilot’s seat just forward of her. He looked about eighteen and seemed determined to scare the living bejesus out of her. So far he’d been doing a good job. He alternated between turning around and yelling descriptions unintelligible over the roar of the engine — Keep your eyes on the fucking road, she wanted to scream back — diving down and banking sharply so she’d have a better view of whatever he wanted to impress her with at the moment (although her eyes were closed tight shut), and intervals of roaring along so close above the water she reckoned she could crank down the window, reach out, and feel the spray if she so wished. She did not so wish. What she dearly wished was that she had never started on this mad journey in the first place. Not that she’d really had much of a choice, she realized in retrospect.

Less than an hour after she’d spoken on the phone with Albright, there was a knock at her door and two men were standing there. Tall, rangy men with jagged toothed smiles, they seemed vaguely familiar.

“Hi, Cat,” they chorused in perfect accord. “Good to see you.” They extended their hands and she shook them politely in turn. They seemed to think she knew who they were. She hadn’t a clue.

“Clint. And this is my brother, Travis,” the squinty-eyed one said. “We ran you across to Nanaimo in the Ribby a couple of weeks ago.”

“Of course,” Cat said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone so soon.”

“Well, you know Mr. Albright,” he said. (She realized now, sitting in the airplane, a bit too late, that she didn’t, not really.) “Once he makes up his mind about something he wants to get it done ASAP. He thought your pictures about the East End arson were outstanding.”

Cat had got the call from Danny, happened to have her camera with her from an assignment, and, almost by reflex, shot some pictures at the scene of the fire. In a half daze afterwards, she’d let Reese talk her into shopping them to a news organization, something she’d regretted almost immediately.

The brothers told her that Mr. Albright was flying to Ottawa to attend a conference early the following day, but could squeeze her in later that evening. It would be her only chance to meet with him over the next couple of weeks. They knew it was an inconvenience, but if she was serious about enlisting his help regarding the police inquiry, she would have to leave within the next hour. Before she’d really even thought about it, Cat was overnight packed and being herded onto the little floatplane that was booked and waiting in the inner harbour.

She started to make a phone call to tell Danny where she was headed, and then the pilot fired up the engine and the deafening noise ruled out any conversation. She would have texted, but the pilot went immediately into takeoff across the chop of the inlet, and with the shuddering and vibrations of the little plane she couldn’t bring herself to release her two-handed death grip from the steel handrail bolted to the back of the pilot’s seat. She would have to wait until she boarded the Blue Harp. She was torn from her meditations a few minutes later by a shout and a gesturing hand from the crazed teenager at the controls who dropped the port wing ninety degrees and went into a racketing, nausea-inducing dive, shaving past a sailboat. Cat closed her eyes to block