drained his coffee and signaled for a refill. “Jessup want his body delivered—or just vanished?”
Hatton let the question hang for a few seconds.
“Hell, Candy, what would we do with a body messing up the place?”
“Just needed to clarify the situation.”
“Well, it ain’t hard. Find him. Put him out of his misery. Bury him in the desert and keep the shovel for a souvenir.”
Candy smiled. “Hey, why’d you not say it was easy as that?”
Hatton made no comment. He knew the way Candy operated. He might make light of the deal in conversation, but in reality he was a professional who made people disappear. He gave off the impression of being a good old country boy, when he was, in fact, one of the most coldhearted men Hatton had ever come across. Candy took pride in his line of work, employed the very best and never, ever walked away without completing a contract.
They fell into light conversation until their food arrived. Eating became the most important consideration after that, neither man saying very much until they were done.
“When you catch this son of a bitch you need to look for his cell phone. He filmed Jessup. If the law lays its hands on it…”
“I get it,” Candy said. “Don’t you fret. It’s as good as done.”
“You know how to contact me if you need to,” Hatton said. He finished his third coffee, pushed his plate aside and stood up. “While we were deciding how to deal with this, I set a couple of our boys on the job.”
“That’s fine,” Candy said. “Give me the word if they find anything.”
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