Part 11 (2/2)
”Evidently, Boyd thought this was going to be a four-star hotel.”
”His gall is unbelievable.” Daniel shook his head.
”Somehow Mr. Boyd feels he's going to be set free. He's an arrogant son of a b.i.t.c.h, as is his attorney, Arnie Bishop.”
”How often does he see Bishop?” Daniel was well-acquainted with Arnie. He was a crooked defense attorney-willing to do anything for money.
”He comes quite often. He was here on Sat.u.r.day.”
”Does Boyd see anyone else?”
”No.”
Daniel stood. ”I'd like to speak with Mr. Boyd.”
”The guard will take you, but you have to leave your gun here.”
Daniel removed his holster and laid it on the desk.
”Good luck,” the warden said as Daniel followed the guard.
They went down long corridors with hollow, echoing sounds. Turning a corner, they walked down a short hall. The guard stopped at a door and spoke into his two-way radio. The door opened electronically.
”They'll bring him through the other door,” the guard said. ”I'll let you out when you're through.”
”Thanks,” Daniel said, taking a seat in one of the two metal chairs at a metal table, the only three items in the room. Everything here was steel, solid and secure, housing the dregs of society. Boyd was the lowest. He'd shot Greg in cold blood because he was a police officer. He would have eventually killed Sarah when he was through with her. The man didn't have a conscience or a heart.
Daniel braced himself for a meeting with the devil.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE DOOR CLANGED open and a guard ushered Rudy Boyd into the room. He wore prison white and his arms and feet were shackled, but basically he was the same-same black hair, cold dark eyes and a mocking leer as if he knew something the rest of the world didn't. He hobbled to the empty metal chair and flopped down.
”Well, if it ain't Detective Daniel Garrett,” Boyd snickered. ”Aren't you a little out of your jurisdiction?”
”Your crimes are in my jurisdiction,” Daniel replied with as much calm as he could muster.
Boyd leaned back and stretched his shackled feet as far out as he could. ”Crimes? Now that's where you and I disagree. I was just giving people what they wanted, something to make them feel better, something to make them forget their problems.”
”Heroin.”
”Yeah. The good stuff. I only sell the best.”
”And you shot Greg Larson because he was getting too close to nailing you.”
Boyd's eyes darkened. ”No one puts the screws to me. No one, not even you, Detective Garrett.”
”Well, Boyd, I'd say you're pretty well screwed sitting here on death row.”
The leer altered for a split second, long enough for Daniel to notice it. He'd hit a nerve.
”How's the lovely Sarah?” Boyd taunted, the leer firmly in place. ”You seemed very attached to her during my trial and appeal.”
Daniel's heart rate quickened, but he kept his expression blank. ”Why are you asking about Sarah Welch?”
”She's a beautiful woman, hard to forget. Long legs, tiny waist, b.r.e.a.s.t.s made for a man to caress, porcelain skin and all that red hair. Mmm, mmm, what a picture. She's like fire and ice. You have to chip through the ice to get to the fire, but it's worth the effort.”
”But you never got to the fire,” Daniel reminded him, trying not to react, trying to play it cool.
The dark eyes blackened to fever pitch. ”Because of you, Garrett, and you will pay for that in ways you can never imagine.”
”Really?”
”Yes. You and your Keystone Cops.”
”We got you and you're waiting for them to stick a needle in your arm.”
Boyd leaned forward. ”That will never happen. Never.”
There was such confidence in his voice that Daniel had to go further. ”Do you know something that I don't?”
”A p.i.s.sant knows more than you, Garrett.”
Daniel stood. ”I know you're the lowest form of life and I know you have something to do with the young girls being raped and murdered in Dallas.”
Boyd didn't deny it, just kept watching Daniel. Then he shook his head. ”So sad-those beautiful young girls, their lives gone just like that.” There wasn't an ounce of remorse in his voice or on his face.
”The heroin in the arm-that's your calling card.”
”That is a bit suspicious, now isn't it?”
The needle in the arm hadn't been released to the press so there was no way Boyd could have known about it unless he'd had firsthand information.
Boyd lumbered to his feet, the chains rattling. ”Have the D.A. put something on the table and I might help you.”
The b.a.s.t.a.r.d-he was after a deal to save his rotten life. Daniel's stomach churned.
”No deals, Boyd.”
”That's a pity, a real pity. Because if I die, a lot of young women in Dallas will, too.” He shuffled toward the door. ”Guard,” he shouted. Then he looked back at Daniel. ”Look after Sarah baby, won't you?”
Daniel restrained himself from jumping across the table and strangling the life out of him. That would come soon enough.
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