JAMES STARED AT ME, his jaw slack. “He said he knew we had the donor list?”
“Why would I make that up, James?”
“How the fuck does he know?”
There were two ways. “One, they were parked nearby and saw us when we took the envelope out of the box and tossed it back in the truck.”
“Possible. We know they tried to get by the gate.”
“Number two, they did get by the gate and took the mail from Fuentes. Once they went through everything in those two boxes, they realized the donor list was missing.”
“Shit. What do we do, Skip? That donor list was extensive. And potentially damaging.”
“They’re going to get it somehow.”
“They’re calling back in-” the phone started it’s raucous music.
“Carlos?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve decided to give you the list. Why don’t you give me your number, and we’ll set up a time and place where you can pick it up.”
He was quiet for a moment, but I could hear him breathing. Then he must have put his hand over the mouthpiece and I could hear his muffled voice talking to someone.
He came back on line. “Do you think I am a stupid fuck, Eugene?”
“No.”
“Eugene, you couldn’t trace this number if you tried, and I am obviously not going to give you my phone number. I want the list tomorrow night. And I want you to leave it in the trash can that sits outside the Denny’s across the street from your apartment. We don’t have to meet each other any more, see each other anymore, or threaten each other with guns. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Put the envelope in a plastic garbage bag. Drop it in the trash can around eight tomorrow night. It’s that simple. And Eugune?”
“What?”
“Don’t make copies. No copies. It had better all be there. I know what I’m looking for and if it’s not there, I’ll start cutting toes and ears off your high school classmate. Got it?”
I got it.