Page 141 of The Fourth Option
There was a pause as Matheson evaluated the weakness of the offer, shaking his head.
Kimbel cleared his throat. “There’s also the matter of escalating violence.”
Icy’s gaze flicked to him. “Such as?”
“Such as a drug murder in the Garden District. Wholesale violence out in the Ninth. Not a good look for the parish.”
He neglected to mention the multiple homicides at Dorado Freight, as that was being dealt with quietly.
Irritated, she looked away from Kimbel to Matheson. “My office believes that’s cartel spillover. What is this, Derek? Some kind of veiled threat? If I don’t get in line with your messaging, then you flip the script? Get your PR girl to gin up a media campaign to hurt my run for governor? It won’t work and you know it.”
“Nobody’s saying that. I’m your biggest donor, remember?”
She shook her head. “You think I need five million that badly? Your donation might just be the thing that taints my campaign and links me to one of the sources of the overall drug problem in this country. The very thing I’m trying to fix.”
Kimbel leaned in. “Let’s all relax here. We can both play offense if we want to, but that wouldn’t serve anyone’s interests. We all get what we want if we proceed with a bit of détente here, don’t we? Ms. Isaacson, we want you to keep the five. There’s more where that came from. All we want is a little softer, maybe even positive, messaging around Xylaxyn. Perhaps a better way to do it would be to talk up the Genyra wing at Tulane.”
“Where Xylaxyn is relieving patients’ suffering,” Matheson added.
Icy stood up and slung her bag over a toned shoulder. “Thank you, gentlemen. I need to stay on schedule.”
“What are you going to tell them?” Kimbel asked, laying it on the line.
“As you know, I can play it either way. Good day, gentlemen.”
“Let me walk you out,” Matheson said, getting to his feet.
“I remember the way,” she said.
When he heard the door shut behind her, Matheson sat back down.
“Vargas would lose his mind if he heard that conversation,” Kimbel said. “He expects us to get her under control.”
“Unrealistic,” Matheson replied. “I know her, and trust me, she’ll throw us to the wolves if she thinks it’ll help her campaign.”
“I could leak some oppo research.”
Matheson waved his hand in dismissal.
“What about our related issue?”
“Charlie Babineaux’s dead. Vargas is sending some of his people in to take over the forwarding operation at the wharf. I’d normally tell you we should back off and lay low for a bit, but we just announced gangbuster numbers this quarter. We signaled to the Street that we’d beat our revenue target for quarter two by 20 percent.”
“Wedidn’t announce it, Walt. I did. What the fuck happened at Dorado anyway?”
“According to Bates, it was a guy and a dog. Single attacker. Killed Charlie, one of his foremen, and two of Vargas’s enforcers.”
“Jesus. Who is this guy?”
“You mean ‘was.’ That’s the good news. The problem has been eliminated.”
“They got him?”
“Bates confirmed it right before I walked in. It’s not going to make the news, of course, but he’s been taken out.”
“Who the fuck was he?”
“I’m not sure. That’s for Bates to worry about. Vargas will get Dorado back open, and we’ll start moving product to hit our second-quarter numbers.”
