Louis had to smile, the man showing his greed, wanting to know the take before asking what it was about.
“We’ll be dealing in millions,” Chip said, “with a way to keep it coming in as long as we want.”
Bobby said, “What’s the split?”
“Three ways, we all get the same.”
“You say millions-nothing to it.”
“At least a couple mil each time we score. This is no one-shot deal.”
“Yeah, what is it? What do we do?”
“We take hostages,” Chip said and waited while Bobby Deo stared at him.
No doubt running out of patience, so Louis gave him a hint. “Like the Shia took those hostages over in Beirut? You know what I’m saying? Over in Lebanon-blindfolded them, kept them chained up? Like that.”
Chip said, “Only we’ll be doing it for profit.”
“You talking about kidnapping,” Bobby said.
“In a way,” Chip said, “only different. A lot different.”
By the time Raylan got to Joyce’s apartment in Miami Beach it was too late to go out to dinner. He mentioned he’d tried to call her three or four times. Joyce said she forgot to turn her machine on-nothing about where she was all afternoon. She fixed him scrambled eggs and toast and made herself a drink. Finally, sitting at the kitchen table while Raylan ate his supper, Joyce said, “Harry got picked up for drunk driving.”
“Today?”
“A few weeks ago. They took his license away for six months.”
“I told you it would happen.”
“I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything.”
“He still drinking?”
“He’s trying to quit.” She paused and said, “I’ve been sort of driving him around. Harry’s looking for customers who still owe him money.”
“You realize you’re aiding in illegal transactions?”
Joyce said, “Oh, for Christ sake,” and there was a silence.