The Book of Fate

46

Gotta give the boy credit,” Micah offered, circling through the parking lot as Wes, Rogo, and Dreidel disappeared inside the Palm Beach Post building.

“Who, Wes?” O’Shea asked, watching from the passenger seat of their government-rented Chevy. “Why, because he’s running for help?”

“See, that’s where you’re underestimating. I don’t think he’s running. Once he steps inside that building, he’s zipping himself in a force field he knows we won’t pierce.”

“Either that or he’s running out of options.”

“Maybe,” Micah said, holding the steering wheel and facing his longtime partner. “But when I was trailing him yesterday morning, every single person he ran into was staring at his face. The valet, the doorman, the guests he passed in the lobby… if he can handle that on a daily basis, he can take more punches than you think.”

“And that’s supposed to impress me?”

“I’m just saying, the immovable object is just as deadly as our unstoppable force.”

“Yeah, but the unstoppable force is still the one people’re afraid of. And until we catch Boyle’s ass, that’s the one I’d rather be.”

“… because it’s served us so well thus far,” Micah said.

“You’re missing the point. Even if Boyle knows we’re searching…”

“… which he does. He’s known for years.”

“But what he doesn’t know is that Wes has suddenly become the best carrot on our stick. Turn — in there,” O’Shea added, pointing to the entrance to the two-story parking garage.

Rounding the turn and weaving up to the second level, it didn’t take long for them to pull up to Wes’s rusted black Toyota. As soon as he saw it, Micah hit the brakes.

“Just pull in back there,” O’Shea said, motioning to an open parking spot diagonally across from the Toyota.

Tapping the gas, Micah eased into the spot. Through the back window, the view of Wes’s car was perfect.

“We got the carrot,” O’Shea said. “When you hold tight to that, the horse’ll always follow.”