“You’re turning down this opportunity on account of him, aren’t you?” It was a shrewd guess and, he saw by Reede’s reaction, a correct one.
Reede gave his wristwatch a needless glance. “Look, I’ve got to run.”
“Reede,” Angus said, grabbing his arm. “You reckon Junior’ll ever realize just how good a friend you are to him?”
Reede tried to sound jocular. “Let’s not tell him. He’s conceited enough as it is.”
Angus smelled defeat, and it was obnoxious to him. “I can’t let you do it, boy.”
“You’ve got no choice.”
“I won’t let you say no. I’ll keep after you,” he promised, his crafty blue eyes gleaming.
“You’re not shook up because you’ll miss me. You’re shook up because you aren’t getting your way.”
“Not this time, Reede. I need you. Junior needs you. So does ME.”
“Why now? After all these years, why does ME’s future rely on me coming back?” Reede’s features sharpened with realization. “You’re scared.”
“Scared?” Angus repeated with affected surprise. “Of what? of whom?”
“Of Alex. You’re scared that she might pluck the candy apple right out of your hand. You’re trying to pack all the power you can behind you.”
“Wouldn’t we all be stronger against her if we stood together?”
“We are standing together.”
“Are we?” Angus fired.
“You’ve got my loyalty, Angus, just like I’ve got yours.”
Angus stepped closer to Reede. “I damn sure hope so. But I recall the look on your face when I walked through that door a while ago,” he whispered. “You looked like you’d been walloped in the nuts, boy. And she looked all rosy and wet around the mouth.”
Reede said nothing. Angus hadn’t expected him to. He would have considered a babbling denial or an apology a weakness. Reed’s strength was one reason he’d always admired him.
Angus relaxed his tension. “I like the girl, myself. She’s saucy, and cute as a button. But she’s too smart for her own good.” He pointed a stern finger at Reede. “See that you don’t get your cock up so high you can’t look around it at what she’s trying to do. She wants to bring us to our knees, make us atone for Celina’s murder.
“Can you afford to lose everything you’ve worked for? I can’t. Furthermore, I won’t.” Ending the discussion on that grim promise, he stamped out of the hangar.
“Where’s my boy?” he stormily demanded of the bartender, almost an hour after leaving Reede. During that time, he’d been making the rounds of Junior’s haunts.
“In the back,” the bartender answered, indicating the closed door at the back of the tavern.
It was a shabby watering hole, but it had the largest poker pot in town. At any time of day or night, a game was in progress in the back room. Angus shoved open the door, nearly knocking over a cocktail waitress carrying a tray of empty long-necks on her shoulder. He plowed through the cloud of tobacco smoke toward the overhead beam that spotlighted the round poker table.
“I need to talk to Junior,” he bellowed.
Junior, a cigar anchored in one corner of his mouth, smiled up at his father. “Can’t it wait till we finish this hand? I’ve got five hundred riding on it, and I’m feeling lucky.”
“Your ass is riding on what I’ve got to tell you, and your luck just ran out.”
The other players, most of whom worked for Angus in one capacity or another, quickly swept up their stakes and scuttled out. As soon as the last one cleared the door, Angus banged it shut.
“What the hell’s going on?” Junior asked.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your friend Reede is about to get the best of you again, while you’re here in the back room of this dump pissing your life away.”
Junior meekly extinguished his cigar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”