Certain Prey

o’clock. I put him off as long as I could, told him it’ll take time to get the money together. The Crystal Court is this big interior court . . .”
    “I was there,” Rinker said.
    “Okay. Anyway, I give him the money, and he gives me the tape. I insisted that he show up, personally. But the best he’ll do is give me a copy of the tape. He says there’s only one, but he’s lying. He’ll want to come back for more money.”
    “You’re sure about that?”
    “He’s a fuckin’ dope dealer, for Christ’s sake.”
    After a couple of seconds’ silence, Rinker said, “There’s a flight into Minneapolis tomorrow morning. I can be there at eleven fifty-five.”
    “I don’t know . . .” Carmel started. Then, in a rush, “I don’t know if I want to see your face. I’m afraid you’ll have to kill me.”
    “Honey, there’re a couple of dozen people who know my face,” Rinker said. “One more won’t make any difference, especially when I know she paid me for a hit. I’d rather you not see me, but we’ve got to fix this thing. You’re gonna have to help.”
    Carmel didn’t hesitate: “I know that.”
    “The thing is, we’re gonna have to talk to him about where the tape is,” Rinker said.
    “Yes. Talk to him privately,” Carmel said. “I’d figured that out.”
    “That’s right . . . Why’d you insist that he meet you in person?”
    “Because I thought you might want in . . . at that point,” Carmel said.
    Rinker chuckled: “All right. You ever kill anybody?”
    “No.”
    “You might be good at it. With a little training.”
    “Probably,” Carmel said. “But it doesn’t pay enough.”
    Rinker chuckled again and said, “See you at eleven fiftyfive. Bring the Jag. And wear jeans and walking shoes.”
    • • •

    C ARMEL HADN’T KNOWN what to expect. A tough-looking, square-faced hillbilly with bony wrists and shoulders, maybe—or somebody beefy, who might have been a prison guard at Auschwitz. The next day, at noon, she looked right past the first passengers getting off the plane from Kansas City, looking for somebody who fit the assorted images she’d created in her mind. When Rinker’s voice came out of a well-dressed young woman with carefully coiffed blondover-blond hair and just a slight aristocratic touch of lipstick, Carmel jumped, startled. The woman was carrying a leather backpack, and was right at Carmel’s elbow.
    “Hello?”
    “What?”
    Rinker grinned up at her. “Looking for somebody else?”
    Carmel wagged her head once and said, “It’s you?”
    “It’s me, honey. I checked a bag.”
    As they started up the concourse, Carmel said, “God, you really don’t look like . . . you.”
    “Well, what can I tell you?” Rinker said cheerfully. She looked past Carmel to her right, where a tall, tanned man was angling across the concourse to intercept them. “Carmel,” he said, dragging out the last syllable.
    “James.” Carmel turned a cheek to be kissed, and after James kissed it, asked, “Where’re you off to?”
    “Los Angeles . . . My God, you look like an athlete. I never suspected you had jeans or Nikes.” The guy was at least six-six and looked good, with a receding hairline; like an athletic Adlai Stevenson. He turned to Rinker and said, “And you’re cute as a button. I hope you’re not a raving leftwing feminist like Carmel.”
    “I sometimes am,” Rinker said. “But you’re cute as a button your own self.”
    The guy put one hand over his heart and said, “Oh my God, the accent. I think we should get married.”
    “You’ve been married too often already, James,” Carmel said dryly. She took Rinker’s arm and said, “If we don’t keep moving, he’ll drown us in bullshit.”
    “Carmel . . .”
    Then they were past him and Rinker glanced back and said, “Nice-looking guy. What does he do?”
    “He’s an accountant,” Carmel said.
    “Hmm,” Rinker said. Carmel caught the tone of disappointment.
    “But not a boring one,” Carmel said. “He stole almost four million dollars from a computer software company here.”
    “Jesus.” Rinker glanced back again. “They caught him?”
    “They narrowed it down to him—they figured out that he was the only one who could have pulled it off,” Carmel said. “He hired me to defend him, but he never seemed particularly worried. Eventually, the company came around and said if he gave the money back, they’d drop charges. He said that if they dropped charges, and apologized for