And Garrett, bring that dog of yours. I want to see the look in his eyes when his master breaks. The line went dead. Garrett sat there, adrenaline starting to flow. This was it, the endgame.
He called Douglas, told him the plan. This is insane, Douglas said. Wade could kill you, bury your body in the desert. No one would ever find you. That's why I need you ready.
If I don't call by 10:00 p.m., you contact Agent Pritchard. Tell her everything. Give her all the evidence. Make sure Wade doesn't get away with it. Garrett, I'm doing this.
Only question is whether you'll back me up. Long silence. Then I'll be ready. But for the record, this is the stupidest thing I've heard in 30 years of law practice. Noted.
Garrett spent the day preparing. He borrowed a wire from a friend who did private investigation work. Tiny microphone, hidden recorder, the kind divorce lawyers use to catch cheating spouses. He tested it, worked perfectly. Now he just had to hope Wade wouldn't search him.
Hope arrogance would override caution. At 8:00 p.m., Garrett fed Sarge double portion. If something went wrong, if he didn't come back, he wanted the dog to have eaten well. You're not coming this time, boy, Garrett said. This one's too dangerous.
Sarge whined, protest. I know, but I need you here, need you safe. If something happens to me, you go to Evelyn. She'll take care of you. Understand?
The dog stared at him, those brown eyes full of intelligence and loyalty, and something that looked almost like disapproval. I'm sorry, but this is how it has to be. Garrett left Sarge at the church with William. The pastor promised to keep the dog safe, to wait for word, to act if word didn't come. Then Garrett rode his Harley to Wade's Pawn & Loan.
The shop was on the edge of town, stand-alone building, bars on windows, single entrance. The kind of place that screamed illegal business, but dared anyone to prove it. A single car in the lot, expensive Mercedes, Wade's. Garrett parked, checked the wire one more time, activated, recording. Backup battery good for 3 hours.
He walked to the door. It opened before he could knock. Wade Kimball stood there, 54 years old, overweight, but carrying it like authority rather than weakness. Expensive suit, rings on fingers, watch that cost more than most people's cars, the physical embodiment of predatory success. Garrett Holloway, come in.
The shop interior was what Garrett expected. Glass cases full of pawn jewelry, shelves of electronics, guitars, guns, all the things desperate people sold when they needed money fast. Wade led him to a back office. Nice space, leather chairs, mahogany desk, whiskey decanter. The office of a man who wanted you to know he'd won.
Sit. Garrett sat. The wire pressed against his chest, invisible, silent, recording. Wade poured two glasses of whiskey, slid one across the desk. " To surrender," Wade said, raised his glass.
Garrett didn't touch his. " Let's talk terms first." " Terms? Right. You want Evelyn Brennan's debt forgiven?
House free and clear? That's your price for walking away?" " Yes." Wade took a sip, savored it. " No." "
No. You don't get to negotiate. You lost. Losers don't set terms." Wade leaned back. "
Here's what's going to happen. You're going to convince every single family in your little rebellion to accept my settlement offer. 10% reduction. NDAs all around. Complete silence.
Then maybe maybe I'll consider being generous with Mrs. Brennan." " That wasn't the deal." " There is no deal. There's only me telling you how this ends. You comply or I destroy every single person who stood with you.
Harvey Stillwell was just the start. I know where they all live, know where their families live. I will systematically dismantle their lives until there's nothing left." Garrett felt cold rage building, but he kept his voice level, neutral. " Why?
Why target veterans? Why go after people who served this country?" Wade smiled. " Because they're easy marks. Proud, stubborn, bad with money.
They'd rather die than admit they need help. Perfect combination for my business model." " Your business model is loan sharking." " My business model is providing capital to people banks won't touch. If the terms are aggressive, well, that's the cost of high-risk lending." "
38% interest is criminal." " It's whatever people agree to. They sign the contract, they take the money. Their failure to read the fine print isn't my problem. Keep him talking.
Get him admitting. Get everything on record." " How many people have you done this to?" " Enough to buy this building, three rental properties, and a vacation home in Sedona. Enough to fund a very comfortable life."
Wade took another sip. " Want to know the funny part? Most of them thank me at first. Grateful I gave them a chance when no one else would. The gratitude makes the betrayal later so much sweeter." "
Betrayal?" " When I take their houses, when I ruin them, the look on their faces when they realize the man who saved them is the same man destroying them. That's the best part." " You're proud of this?" " I'm proud of being good at what I do.
I identified a market, exploited it efficiently, made millions. That's capitalism, Garrett. That's America." " That's evil." Wade laughed. "
Evil? Right. You military types always think in black and white. Good and evil. Heroes and villains.