St Kilda Consulting 02 - Innocent as Sin

Can we meet at your ranch?”
    Simultaneously, Hamm and Rand gave her a negative head motion. She gave them a Well, duh eye roll.
    “I’m really jammed up today,” she said. “Can’t we handle it by phone?”
    “Sorry.” Foley’s voice said he wasn’t sorry at all. “It absolutely has to be done in person. That’s what being a personal banker is all about.”
    “Hell,” Kayla said, just loud enough for Foley to catch. “I’m just really, uh, busy right now. I’m entitled to a private life on the weekends.”
    “At the expense of your career?”
    The whip in Foley’s voice would have worried her if she hadn’t already written her career off.
    “This is bank business?” she asked.
    “Why else would your supervisor be giving you a direct order?”
    You’ve given me lots of direct orders, jerkwad, and you usually change your mind a few minutes later. But all Kayla said aloud was, “I’m listening. What’s so urgent?”
    Rand made a motion with both hands and mouthed, Draw it out.
    “I certainly hope it doesn’t involve the Bertone account,” she added.
    Her tone was so sweetly reasonable that Rand had to smile—sweet reason had nothing to do with her eyes. They wanted Foley’s ass on a platter.
    “Actually, it does,” Foley said. His tone was less certain, like an actor whose lines had been changed.
    “I thought it might,” Kayla said gently. “I left the fund-raiser rather quickly last night. I wondered if Andre and Elena would be upset.”
    “What happened?” Foley asked. “We’ve been worried about you.”
    Rand wanted to spit on the floor.
    From the twist of Kayla’s mouth, she did, too.
    “Well, I was kind of upset,” she said. “A stranger made a hard pass at me in Bertone’s garden.”
    “Uh—” Steve cleared his throat. “That’s awful. Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Somebody happened along at the right moment and wilted the guy’s dick.”
    Rand almost laughed out loud.
    “But I was too upset to stay,” Kayla said. “I spent the night at a friend’s house in Gilbert.”
    “Someone from the bank?”
    “No. No one you know.”
    “Are you headed to the ranch now?” Foley asked. “I know you’ve got more stuff to clean out.”
    Rand shook his head.
    “No,” Kayla said. “I’m just running some errands.”
    “Oh. Well, maybe I’ll drop by the ranch later, when you’re home, and help you out. I hate to think of you being alone after what happened last night. Poor baby. I’m so sorry.”
    Kayla lifted her middle finger at the phone, but her voice was smooth as she said, “Hang on a sec.” She put her hand over the microphone, looked at Rand, and said softly, “Sure you don’t want him at the ranch? We could give him and his gun-freak pal a real welcome.”
    Her smile was hard and predatory. Clearly she liked the idea of ambushing the ambushers.
    Concrete hummed beneath the SUV’s wheels. Hamm had turned onto the freeway and was speeding away from Guadalupe.
    Finally Rand shook his head. “Too many places for a sniper to hit you along the way.”
    Kayla took her hand off the microphone. “Oops, damn, I’m about to drop in the cell-phone dead zone at Shea. I’ll call you right back.”
    “Who were you talking to?” Foley asked.
    “Myself, same as always. Can’t break the habit.”
    “You’ve lived alone too long, babe. Why don’t—”
    She punched out and looked at Rand.
    “Why can’t we just call the cops and have them rig a trap at the ranch?” she asked.
    “Faroe is trying, but do you have any idea how much hassle it would be to wire the Maricopa County Sheriff ’s Office into this situation on a moment’s notice?” Rand asked. Then he added in a breathless falsetto, “Oh, Deputy, a very wealthy citizen who also happens to be an international arms smuggler and money launderer is trying to have me killed. He’s using a prominent banker, a Yaqui Indian thug with some ugly friends, and illegal automatic weapons he smuggled into the country.”
    “But St. Kilda—” Kayla began.
    “Is working for a foreign country in a gray area of the law. And the attack on you last night was never reported. Explain that away.”
    “Crap. I feel like Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2. ”
    “Get used to it. The first data dump on the Bertones’ political activities just came back from St. Kilda’s research group. Last year they gave more than $1,700,000 in contributions, half to local politicians and half to national candidates. And