Razor Sharp by Fern Michaels Page A

I know all that, don’t we, bro? Well, to be honest here, we didn’t know the part about Isabelle and the dick or Abner.”
    “Nobody likes a smart-ass,” Bert said.
    “I was hoping for like…you know, news. Are you telling me the FBI is suddenly buttoned-up? What’s coming out of the rumor mill?”
    At last they were down to male talk. “Shit like you wouldn’t believe. The whole damn town is hunkering down. Big stuff going on, but no one is talking out loud. Lots and lots of whispers. Hell, I made seven trips to the White House this week. Ain’t good, boys.” Bert’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper even though there was no one in the car to hear him but Jack and Harry. “I heard in the White House several staffers whispering, and since I have such keen hearing, I didn’t have to try too hard to listen. The scuttlebutt is one of two things. The dumb-ass money seems to be on the Vigilantes coming to town as per someone’s request and the smart money is on the Vigilantes coming to town of their own accord, which means a red alert is going out.
    “And, are you ready for this? I’ve heard resignations are flooding the president’s office, but I can’t confirm who and why. If I did know and told you, I’d have to kill you.”
    “That’s pretty funny,” Harry said from his perch in the backseat. “I don’t doubt for a minute that you could take Jack on, but you’d be dead before you could lay a finger on me.”
    Bert knew it was true, so he didn’t belabor the point.
    “So why were you at the White House seven times this week?”
    It took Bert so long to respond, Jack had to prod him.
    “Something kind of strange. Seems there is this woman in Las Vegas named Crystal Clark who runs a cathouse out there. It’s legal, as you know. The Las Vegas Field Office was getting ready to put a tail on her, but she up and disappeared. My guy out there said she did it like magic. One minute she was there, then poof, she was gone. The…employees are all gone. Even the maintenance and groundskeepers—gone, with the exception of one old guy. He said he was paid through the end of the month, and he didn’t take money for no work. No trace whatsoever. Now, here’s where it gets a little… sticky. Somehow or other Cosmo Cricket’s name came up at the White House.”
    Harry unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward. “Are you telling us this woman’s disappearance is tied in to our visit to the mountain and your visits to the White House? Lizzie is not going to like Cricket’s name coming up on this coast, especially at the White House. Jesus, you aren’t telling us Cricket was that woman’s attorney, are you?”
    Bert’s silence was all the confirmation Harry and Jack needed.
    “Buckle up, Harry,” Jack told him. For once, Harry didn’t argue. He leaned back, buckled up, and closed his eyes as he tried to make sense out of what Bert had just said.
    Keeping his eyes on the road, Jack chewed on his lower lip. Ten minutes later he finally had his thoughts in some kind of order. “Did you warn Lizzie or Cricket?”
    “Not yet. But I have to go to Vegas tomorrow. Don’t worry, you two don’t have to leave with me. You have the whole weekend. Lucky stiffs. I already made arrangements for a car to be left at the Shell station down the road from our drop-off point. In fact, it should be in place when we get there. I’m going to want to check that out before I go up the mountain.”
    “Can you keep a lid on the Vegas part, Bert?” Jack asked.
    “I can try, but you know I can’t really interfere. It’s all got to look on the up-and-up. My guys out there are sharp. I mean like razor-sharp. They’re all seasoned pros.”
    “C’mon, Bert, Vegas is buttoned-up, FBI or not. Cricket’s got the inside track, and those people out there are not going to open up to anyone, not even the FBI.”
    “Yeah, I know,” Bert growled. “That guy Cricket is something else.”
    Harry chirped up from the backseat.