Page 52 of Shatter

"Middle finger next." My voice comes out low and even, like I'm asking him to pass the salt. "After that, we get the battery out, and I promise you, you'll miss the pliers."

"Travis." It explodes out of him. "My name's Travis. Travis Kranski. Jacksonville."

"Good." I lower the pliers an inch. "Who hired you, Travis?"

"Guy named Colin, a Canadian." He's gasping, head hanging, drool stringing from his lip. "About a month ago. A guy I know down in Jax knows people on the coast, and he set it up. Said some rich Canadian needed local muscle and paid good."

"What people on the coast?" I lean closer.

"I don't know." His head jerks up, and his one eye is wild. "I swear, man, I don't know. The Florida people. That's what Colin called them. Said they move stuff out of the Gulf, and his boss moves stuff to them. That's all I know."

I look back at Tor.

He hasn't moved, but his eyes have gone to slits.

"Who's Colin's boss?" I turn back to Travis.

He hesitates.

I set the jaws of the pliers against his middle fingernail.

"Arsenault." He's crying again, great heaving sobs. "Desmond Arsenault. Colin said it on the phone, like, a hundred times. Mr. Arsenault wants this. Mr. Arsenault wants that. He's some big shot in Vancouver."

Desmond Arsenault.

I turn the name over in my head.

It means nothing to me.

I say it once under my breath, so I'll have it.

"What does he want?" I don't move the pliers.

"The girl." Travis swallows, and it clicks wetly in his throat. "The girl and what she took. That's the exact words. Colin said she stole something from him and he wants both of them back, and he doesn't care what condition she's in when she gets there."

My hand tightens on the pliers.

The metal creaks.

"Where's Colin?" Travis' eye darts from me to Tor and back. "He went to the diner two nights ago, and he never came back. He never called. Laurent's been losing his mind."

"Who's Laurent?" I keep my eyes on his face.

"The guy in the suit." Travis licks his split lip. "Came down from Vancouver two days ago when Colin went dark. Marc Laurent. He's the one who went into the diner, playing cousin. He's the one who got away."

"What's he going to do now?" I ask it softly.

Travis laughs.

It's a horrible sound, high and cracked, with no humor in it at all.

"He saw your jackets, man." He drops his head back against the chair. "When you guys came around the building. He saw the patches. He's going to call Arsenault, and Arsenault's going to call the Florida people, because they know who owns what down here. It's what he pays them for."

He rolls his head forward and looks at me with his one good eye.

"You guys are fucked." His mouth twists. "You don't know it yet."

The bulb swings on its cord.