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.She flashed a nervous smile and put her sunglasses back on.Marvelli, she thought, glaring at his back, J am going to kill you.“Shall we take a look around?” Lance asked.10Marvelli caught up with the tall black man at the front entrance to the main bungalow.He came up from behind and whispered over the man’s shoulder, “So whose balls are you busting today, Lawrence?”Lawrence Temple turned around, and, as soon as he recognized Marvelli, he cocked an unamused eyebrow.He was a lean, good-looking guy, even with the straight-arrow, gold-rimmed glasses on, but he was pure fed, Stiffer than a white man with that ramrod-up-the-ass posture all feds seemed to have.“Still with Criminal Investigations, Lawrence?”Temple scrutinized him for a minute before he answered.“Mr.Marvelli,” he declared in his superiority-complex baritone, “what an un-nice surprise.”“Come on, Lawrence.Don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that Paul Gaines thing.”“Why shouldn’t I be pissed off about Paul Gaines? My boss cited that in my year-end review.Delayed my promotion by six months.”Marvelli chuckled to himself.Spoken like a true fed, he thought.“Listen to me, Lawrence.Gaines had been in prison on a second-degree murder conviction.They let him out early, but he didn’t report to his PO for almost five months.The guy was a cunning mother—not to mention ruthless—and we all knew that.We also knew that before his conviction he had ordered a shit-load of killings that couldn’t be pinned on him.So what am I supposed to do? Let you take him in for tax evasion where he gets vacation time at Club Fed? Or do I take him back to Trenton where he can serve out the last seven and half years on his term? You tell me, Lawrence.What would you do if you were me?”Temple was shaking his head.“You do not play by the rules, Marvelli, and you never have.That’s what pisses me off.”“Those rules being: I should take a backseat because you’re a fed and I’m just a mutt from the state.”“Cooperation, Marvelli.The way I learned it, law enforcement agencies are supposed to cooperate with each other.”Marvelli had to laugh.“This is funny, Lawrence.I have yet to meet a fed who could bring himself to share information, any information.You ever hear of ‘anal retentive’? It’s in the dictionary under ‘Fed.’ You guys couldn’t cough up the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth if your promotions depended on it.”Temple smiled to show that he was big enough to overlook an insult.“So what brings you down to Rancho Bonita, Marvelli? Working on that eating disorder of yours?”“Business, my friend, business.”“Really?” Temple nodded, waiting for Marvelli to make the next move.“Okay, Lawrence, you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.I’ll even go first to show how much I trust you.” Marvelli nodded at Loretta and Lance, who were still standing over by the car.“The woman’s my partner.We’re here to pick up a jumper who works for this place.”Temple stared at Loretta for a minute, then flashed a big grin.“And I thought we brothers were the only ones who liked ‘back’?”Marvelli’s smile disappeared.“She’s my partner, not my squeeze.And don’t give me this ‘brother’ shit.Nothing more pathetic than a fed trying to be black.”Temple gave him the hairy eyeball, but Marvelli didn’t give a shit.That crack about Loretta was out of line.“So what’re you doing here, Lawrence? I showed you mine.”Temple let his glare smolder.“Tax fraud.What else?”“Who?”“I didn’t hear you mentioning any names, Marvelli.”“A woman named Spooner.”“Never heard of her.”“Good.We won’t have another Paul Gaines situation then.”“I’m delighted.”They stood there, eyeballing each other.Marvelli didn’t trust the guy as far as he could spit, and he was pretty sure that the feeling was mutual.He also knew how IRS Criminal Investigations people worked.They’d round up as many WeightAway office workers as they could, separate them, then see who they could get to rat on who.If Martha Lee Spooner was working in the administrative offices, Temple would probably take her in with his sweep, and once she got under the fed’s wing, he and Loretta would have to move mountains to get her back.“Excuse me.Mr.Temple?” A cute blonde in the Rancho Bonita long-pants uniform came up to them, looking from Marvelli to Temple.“That’s me,” Temple said.“Oh.” She laid her hand on her chest and looked overly relieved.“Mr.Laplante asked me to find you.He’s waiting for you in the conference room.If you’ll just follow me.”“Have a nice life, Marvelli,” Temple said, glancing back at Loretta.Marvelli didn’t like the dismissive look on his face.Of course, feds weren’t totally useless, he thought.Temple had led him to Paul Gaines that time.It just might work again.Marvelli followed Temple and the cute blonde into the main bungalow, keeping a safe distance as they passed through the busy lobby to a doorway off a wide hallway.“In here,” the blonde said, opening the door for Temple.Marvelli picked up his pace and slipped in right behind him.“We’re together,” he whispered to the blonde.Inside, a tall white guy with weird-looking hair stood up from the head of the conference table and extended his hand to Temple.“Mr.Temple,” he said with a smile.He was wearing a cream-colored linen suit and tan huaraches.“Roger Laplante,” he said.“And this is Martha Sykes, from our accounting department.”A petite brunette nodded to Temple from her seat.Marvelli recognized her from the mug shots in her file.Martha Sykes, huh? he thought, half-amused by her alias.Martha Lee stayed in her seat as she shook Temple’s hand.Her hair was longer than it was in the mug shots, but it was definitely her.“And you are?” The big weird-looking guy flashed a feeble smile at Marvelli.Temple just noticed that he was there.“Special Agent Paul Gaines,” Marvelli said quickly.He pointed back and forth from Temple to himself.“We’re partners.”Temple’s eyes were bugging out of his head.Marvelli ignored him and took a seat.A large bowl of fresh fruit was sitting in the middle of the conference table.He grabbed a banana and started to peel it.“So, Lawrence, shall we get right down to business?” He bit off the top of the banana as he nodded at Temple’s briefcase.There were some interesting-looking fruits in the bowl, things he’d never seen before.He’d let Temple talk for a while, so he could try a few before he gave Martha Lee the good news about her free one-way trip back to New Jersey.Temple took a seat and opened his briefcase, scowling the whole time.He pulled out a legal pad and a pen, leaned back in his chair, and propped the pad on his knee.Marvelli watched him write in big block letters: “Obstructing a federal investigation is a FELONY!” He underlined “FELONY” a few times to make his point.Marvelli finished off the banana and reached for something that looked like a small, round apple.He bit into it.He had no idea what it was, but it wasn’t bad.“Mr.Laplante,” Temple began, “you have resisted all our efforts to resolve this problem.For the past sixty days, we’ve had to fine you $500 a day for noncompliance.You have already been notified that as of tomorrow the fine increases to $2,500 a day until such time as you turn over your books to our auditors.You already owe us some $30,000 in penalties.How much longer do you intend to continue with this nonsense, sir?”Laplante smiled and wagged his finger.“I take offense at your characterizing this situation as ‘nonsense,’ Mr.Temple.I certainly don’t consider it nonsense—no, I don’t.”Marvelli watched Laplante as he finished off the little apple.He was thinking, Snake oil.“Then I take it you’re ready to make your books available to us?” Temple said.“Yes.Soon.”“How soon, Mr [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]