Free The Doll Brokers by Hal Ross

finished his drink, he stood from the bar and said good night. The smile was back on his face and it was no longer forced.
    He was confident that he could persuade Verna Sallinger to become a foot soldier in his cause. Her personal relationship with Patrick Morhardt—the drunken fool—would prove invaluable. Once Patrick was trapped and Verna Sallinger gone, he’d be left with Ann Lesage, and oh what wonderful surprises he had in store for her. His blood rushed with the thought of it. He could hardly wait.

CHAPTER 12
    â€œY our mother called.”
    The news soured the coffee Patrick had just swallowed. He put his cup down on the kitchen table. “When?”
    â€œWhile you were in the shower.” Irene lifted his cup and set it on the sink counter with a thud.
    â€œWhat did you tell her?” Patrick asked warily.
    â€œThat you’d already left and I didn’t know if you were heading straight in to the office this morning or not.”
    He should have been out the door an hour ago. He had planned to stop at the office before his morning appointment, but last night had done him in. He’d spent most of it in the den, thinking, drinking. He lifted a shaky hand to his eyes, rubbing until they were sore.
    â€œAnd what’s with your brother lately, anyway?” she demanded.
    Patrick frowned at the change of subject. Even that reflex hurt, and he had to think hard to change gears. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œJonathan. He’s been stuck up Ann’s ass like an enema all week.”
    â€œChrist, Irene, that’s crude.”
    â€œI’m running out of niceties, Pat. I’m sick of this.”
    He took his briefcase from the counter and stepped toward the door to the garage without answering.
    â€œTalk to me, damn it!”
    Patrick looked back at her, his gut churning. It occurred to him that he hated her. He wished he had it in him to hurt her, physically
hurt
her for all her derision and complaints over the years. Nothing had ever been good enough.
    â€œI didn’t get the financing,” he said. “That should have been it, but Ann went ahead with the commercial shoot anyway. Mom’s pissed. She blames me. She wants this bloody doll and she expects me to find the money to pull it off. We’re out the cost of the commercial because Ann wouldn’t back down. And they’ve both got their drawers in a twist over going back on our word with the Chinese. So I’m going to have to think of another way.”
    Irene stared at him, then she groaned as she leaned against the refrigerator. “You can’t do anything right,” she said.
    He thought again of putting his hands around his wife’s throat, tightening, squeezing. Patrick took a deliberate step into the garage instead.
    â€œWhat do I tell Felicia if she calls back?” Irene called after him.
    â€œThat I told you I was going to try one more bank before I went to the office.”
    He was bone-tired and the day hadn’t even started yet. Patrick closed the door behind him. A minute later, he was in the Volvo wagon, heading for the train station.
    He wasn’t going to a bank. He was going to a lawyer.
    He had worked with Ann for too many years. She wouldn’t have taken his word on the bank situation. By now she would have contacted them herself and checked his version of the story. She had probably even figured out that he had never spoken to Margin at all. She’d call him on it if he couldn’t sidetrack her by miraculously producing the money she needed.
    How the hell had she done it, he wondered as he left his car in the lot and headed for the train. How had she usurped him so completely over the years? He’d kept his eye on the little bitch from the first time she’d set foot in Hart Toy’s mailroom. But it wasn’t just Felicia she had wowed. She’d taken everyone by storm. Part of it was that chilly intelligence. The rest