Chapter Fourteen
“So you think Findley will take the deal?” Rhonda Flamboise inquires, feet up on her desk in a manly pose of confidant authority.
“Well, he’ll know our intentions are real... not a Marshals Service ruse.”
“How so?”
Linda relates the events of her departure from Max’s Palace, offering strong indications that she operates outside of Marshals Service guidelines. Her story brings boisterous laughter from her supervisor.
“So you told the bartender ten dollars a pop?”
“Yes. And that when Dickie boy’s little butt hole earned a total of $100, to uncuff him and give back his clothes.”
“Ha, ha, ha. Bait for those gangbangers. That will make an impression on Findley. And if he bites?”
“We’ll not have to do much. He’s to wire the funds to the Nusquam bank account then receive
