Читать книгу Flash Point - Metsy Hingle - Страница 2

“I guess it’s fortunate that I showed up when I did.” Following his lead, she opened the passenger door of the car, and nearly gagged on the stench of stale whiskey and cigars as she slid inside. Still, she forced herself to pull the door closed, shutting out the noise from the street musicians and revelers who’d flocked to New Orleans’ French Quarter to celebrate Halloween.

“Fortunate is right, missy. I’m a busy man,” he said. “I’ll have you know I’ve got better things to do with my time than wait around for the likes of you.”

“Then let’s not waste any more of each other’s time, Doctor. Did you bring the document?”

“’Course I brought it. But first I want to see the money.”

She opened the black tote bag that was filled with $100,000 in cash. Opening it, she angled it so that the light from the street lamp fell on its contents. There was no mistaking the lust in the man’s bloodshot eyes. When he reached for the bag, she snapped it closed. “Not so fast, Doctor. First I want the document.”

“Sure. Sure.” He fumbled inside his coat pocket, drew out an envelope and shoved it at her. “Here.”

“You sure this is the only copy?”

“What? Yeah, it’s the only one,” he muttered, still distracted by all the cash.

She tucked the envelope inside her purse and reached for her gun. “Then I guess this is goodbye, Doctor,” she said politely as she pulled the trigger.