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Bryan straightened his ascot in the hall mirror. "It looks like I may have overestimated this voodoo doctor. If he were any good, Kyna would be on a slab in the morgue by now." |
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Conrad slammed his palm down on the hall table. "Ow! Shit!" |
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Bryan turned and raised an eyebrow. "What the devil are you doing?" |
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Conrad held out his hand. The palm was red and blood was leaking from two tiny holes in his thumb. "A fucking cockroach. You ought to spray this place." |
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Looking from his bodyguard's hand to the table and then back, Bryan said, "Where is it?" |
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"The son of a bitch bit me and ran off." |
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Bryan chuckled and shook his head. "Maybe I really should consider hiring this Trigg chap. Come on, let's find our parkas." |
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The goateed man trailed his dark guru down the long concourse at Memphis International Airport. Even in his banker's suit, the Dark Man was a magnet for almost every eye. When the mismatched duo arrived at the gate, they took seats well away from the other passengers, selecting a pair of seats in a corner far from the plate-glass window and placing their leather carry-on bags in the seats on either side of them. The Dark Man folded his lanky frame into the uncomfortable seat and turned his gaze on the potpourri of humanity milling around the check-in desk. After a few moments of sifting through the faces he selected an overweight man in a white shirt with yellowed sweat rings under the arms. Fingering the faux amulet through a gap in his shirt, the witch doctor moved his lips as if saying a silent prayer. A moment later, the fat man gasped and began frantically tearing at the collar of his shirt. In seconds, his eyes were bulging out of his head and his face had turned as red as a carnival balloon. The fat man's fat wife jumped up and started pounding him on the back and his fat little boy began to cry. When the man's face reached just the right shade of purple, the Dark Man released the am- |
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