Rising Tides
“But getting there, even in bad weather, was possible, if you drove back toward New Orleans and cut east to the Mississippi River. Bonne Chance was a one-dictator town, home of Largo Haines, a crony of Ferris’s. It had also been the final home of Hugh Gerritsen.
“I don’t understand why dinner with Largo couldn’t wait until this fiasco at the beach is finished,” Cappy said, peering out the windshield as sheets of rain washed the blacktop in front of them. “We’ve been in the car for hours. We coul...d have had him up to New Orleans next week. I could have made sure everything was perfect.”
“Largo doesn’t care about perfect. He knows exactly how far away we were. He cares whether I come when he whistles, like a well-trained Labrador.”
“Well, apparently he’s got nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing at all. I’ll play bird dog, and the minute I don’t need Largo Haines, I’ll chew him up like an old shankbone.”
“There it is.” Cappy pointed to a discreet sign illuminated by floodlights.MoreLess
“I don’t understand why dinner with Largo couldn’t wait until this fiasco at the beach is finished,” Cappy said, peering out the windshield as sheets of rain washed the blacktop in front of them. “We’ve been in the car for hours. We coul...d have had him up to New Orleans next week. I could have made sure everything was perfect.”
“Largo doesn’t care about perfect. He knows exactly how far away we were. He cares whether I come when he whistles, like a well-trained Labrador.”
“Well, apparently he’s got nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing at all. I’ll play bird dog, and the minute I don’t need Largo Haines, I’ll chew him up like an old shankbone.”
“There it is.” Cappy pointed to a discreet sign illuminated by floodlights.MoreLess
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