Chapter 8

Carlo hurried down the pavement, head bowed against the driving rain. A phone booth nestled on the corner a block ahead, and Joe sped up to reach it first. When he pulled over, Carlo quickened his pace, but Joe still managed to beat him to the door.

He blocked entry with his arm, matching Carlo’s hostility with his own. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you deaf? I already told you.”

“Are you dumb? I told you what Stout’s likely to do to you.”

“If he killed the other driver, he can’t pin it on me. You have to wipe down the taxi to get rid of your prints anyway, so mine will be gone, too.”

Smart kid. Joe hadn’t considered that, but it was a spot-on assessment. “And if he decides killing you is a good idea?”

“Why would he if I give him what he wants?”

“You’re what’s called a loose end.”

“So what do you care if I am?”