Hostile Odds

“How?”

“Keep doing what you’ve been doing,” he said.

“That’ll be tougher now that Gowan’s people are onto me,” Newbury replied.

“Those weren’t Gowan’s people,” Bolan replied. “They were too well-trained and -equipped. Gowan’s men are thugs and hoods, nothing more. Those guys weren’t maybe the brightest of the bunch, but they were definitely experts in their field.”

“But why would the ELF come after me?”

Bolan had to admit he didn’t have an answer to that question. He didn’t have any proof the men who attacked Newbury weren’t from Gowan, but his instinct told him otherwise and Bolan always listened to it. No, those men were after more than the rent money.

“What kind of questions did they ask?”

“They wanted to know where Earl was, who owned the place…stuff like that.”

“Mickey Gowan doesn’t own that restaurant?”

She shook her head. “Too small. I actually got hired there by Earl about two months back. Earl did all the resupply, ordered things whenever I asked him, signed all the checks. I just assumed Earl owned the place, so I figured it was a good place to keep my cover while I poked into other business ventures.”

“I know Gowan owns the mill,” Bolan said.

Newbury nodded. “As well as the mercantile, bank and just about everything else in Timber Vale. He doesn’t do much with the small businesses, but he’s got his teeth into all the major capital ventures.”

“Good,” the Executioner said with a nod. “I’ll need a list of those as soon as you can get them to me.”

Newbury batted her eyelashes and said, “Still not going to tell me who you work for?”

Bolan shook his head. “No, and I’d appreciate if you don’t ask me anymore.”

“Fine,” she said. She folded her arms and said, “So what now?”

“You have someplace safe you can go?”

She nodded. “I can wait at a friend’s house until Kellogg gets up here.”

“Not good,” Bolan said. “I don’t trust Kellogg, and I think it’s better if you don’t contact him.”

“He’s my handler,” Newbury protested. “I have to call him.”

“I don’t trust Kellogg,” he repeated.

Newbury sighed. “You think he’s in bed with Gowan.”

“Yeah. You?”

Something in Newbury’s eyes betrayed she had similar feelings. Bolan had wondered why the inaction on Kellogg’s part.

“I don’t have a shred of proof but…well, I’ve suspected for some time. It’s hard not to get a pretty clear picture of what’s going on in smaller communities like Siskiyou County or up here in Timber Vale. Kellogg knows a lot of people, and he seems to have trouble keeping a low profile.”

“Likes to be in the limelight,” Bolan cut in.

“Exactly. And when you mention you don’t trust him, then that just seems to confirm my own suspicions and tells me I’m not crazy.”

“So for now I’d say keep quiet and don’t rattle too many cages,” Bolan said as he started the car.

“We’re leaving?”

“I’ll drop you off at my motel, and then I’ve got a few more things to take care of before I start work tomorrow morning at the mill.”

Newbury scratched at her head and finally yanked off her wig in unceremonious fashion. Bolan could see the cause of her discomfort. She’d used an assortment of rubber bands and metal clips to wind her dark hair against her head. She began to pull them loose one by one as Bolan pulled onto the road.

“So you convinced MacDermott to give you a job.”

“You know him, eh?”

She nodded. “He comes into the diner all the time.”

“You trust him?”

“Hell no!” Newbury popped a stick of gum in her mouth before adding, “Mac’s a braggart and a loudmouth. He’s also known for tipping them back a little too often.” She made a drinking gesture.

“That should prove helpful,” Bolan said. “Heavy drinking’s a weakness. Maybe I can use it to get under his skin.”

“Just be careful you don’t get too deep,” she said.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe…but keep your eyes open anyway. The MacDermott fan club has quite a membership.”

“Is he on Gowan’s payroll?”

“Better believe it.” Newbury completed the task of removing the hair restraints. She tossed her head back and forth and lowered the window, and her long, thick strands of red-brown hair blew easily under the high-speed breezes.

Bolan thought he smelled something like apples or strawberries, but the scent quickly faded. “What’s his angle?”

“Mac’s a piece of work. I know he resents working under Mickey Gowan. He’s been heard mouthing off about that more than once. I know he went toe-to-toe with one of Gowan’s right-hand men a few months back, a guy by the name of Billy Moran.”

“Yeah, Moran’s no longer with us.”

Newbury looked at Bolan in shock. From her expression she knew good and well what Bolan meant by the comment. He looked for something more there, but he didn’t get anything. He still had no real reason to trust Newbury, but for now he only needed her for information.

“Like I said,” Newbury said more quietly, “Mac hits the sauce pretty often and pretty hard. And he likes his women, too. Considers himself somewhat of a ladies’ man. He’s even hit on me a few times at the restaurant. Usually it’s after the bars close and he’s been out most of the night. I always just tell him I have a boyfriend and that seems to satisfy him.”

“Well, if you need somebody to actually stand in for the part, give me a call.”

Newbury burst into laughter. “You know, that’s about the most gentlemanly offer I’ve had in quite a while. Say, you mind if I ask you something?”

Bolan shook his head.