Free Got the Look by James Grippando Page B

involved.
    What do you mean?
    I think you still care about Mia. And I think Salazar knows that you still care about her.
    Then you're both wrong.
    Hey, I'm a cop, but I'm still a woman. You can't fool me or yourself about these things. The feelings we have for other people are rarely rational.
    Jack averted his eyes. What does this have to do with anything?
    I want you to deliver the proof-of-life payment.
    You do?
    I'll admit, I was dead set against it when I first found out about you and Mia. But Salazar made it clear that he's not going to let me use an undercover FBI agent. So if you don't do it, I'm afraid he'll try and do it himself. Or worse, maybe even send one of his boys to screw things up.
    Maybe the same guy who bugged my kitchen.
    Exactly. The more aspects of this negotiation and delivery that I can take out of Salazar's hands, the better it'll be for everyone. Especially Mia.
    Jack finished his coffee, thinking. Last week, when I saw Mr. Thornton sitting in your lobby all broken up over his dead wife, I was all for helping out any way I could. But Salazar's proof-of-life question changes things. At best, he's being cute. At worst, he's trying to get somebody hurt. I'm just not sure.
    I understand. Either way, I need Salazar out of the way. I wouldn't ask just anyone. But as a former prosecutor, you must have some bone in your body that still wants to help catch bad guys.
    Yeah, I suppose. Counterbalanced, of course, by a healthy survival instinct. When do I have to decide?
    The kidnapper said he'd follow up with instructions. Could be any day. Could be any minute.
    Jack's fingers drummed across the tabletop, but the answer wasn't coming any faster. He looked at Andie and said, I'll sleep on it, knowing that sleep was not in the cards that night.

    Chapter 12
    Jack left Perricone's and had clear sailing till the traffic light changed at Miami Avenue. To his left was the official welcome to Key Biscayne, a big marquee with a life-size plastic dolphin. It was once a shark, not so many years ago. Jack imagined it dressed in pinstripes and asking Have you been injured? - a fitting tribute to the many wealthy lawyers who called the island home.
    He sometimes wondered how his life would have changed had he put his trial skills toward plaintiff's personal injury work. It could have been the end of his money troubles. Your vintage Mustang convertible goes up in flames? No problem. Buy two more. Your marriage crashes and burns? Not to worry. Nothing that a thousand-dollar-an-hour divorce lawyer can't handle. But it just wasn't his style to juggle countless slip-and-fall cases while fervently hoping for a grieving mother to come through the door with a quadriplegic toddler who had been pushed into the street by Donald Trump, run over by a speeding FedEx truck, and then diagnosed with the flu by a drunken ER physician. Then again, trying to snag referrals from a guy like William Bailey wasn't really Jack's style either. If there was a silver lining to the Mia disaster, it was the quick death it had delivered to his idiotic pursuit of the golden handcuffs - or as Theo had put it, yanking up the FYN.
    Stopped at the red light, he dialed Theo from his cell. Your friend still there? said Jack.
    What? Theo shouted.
    Is your electronics guy still at my house checking for bugs?
    Jack heard music and laughter in the background. Theo said, Oh yeah, he's still here. Brought a few of his friends over, too. Jack Daniel, Mr. Bacardi
    Great, thought Jack.
    He overheard Theo say something like Come on, baby, I'm talking on the phone here. Jack didn't even bother asking. He just said good-bye and disconnected. The traffic light changed, but he didn't make his turn. Instead, he cut across three lanes to the I-95 North on-ramp, and he didn't plan on stopping until he reached Palm Beach.
    It was time to pay a visit to Mia's best friend.
    Jack had never met Emilia Varnal, but he had her cell number. Whenever Mia had to cut a date short or