GOTU - A Robin Marlette Novel Read Free Page B

would be pissed off. But the question: Why did Ramon Rodriquez show up on the ground crew of a smuggling deal? seared into his mind.
    Robin walked up to Emmett and John, eyeing the slender, blond, white male between them.
    “Who do we have here?” Robin asked.
    “Well,” Emmett began, “we have one Eric Newman, who just walked up to us and announced he flew the target airplane. He wants to talk to the man in charge. I've placed him under arrest and advised him of his rights.”
    Robin looked at Newman, who appeared tired but not visibly upset about being arrested. He stood tall, about six feet, with a mustache and a two-day growth of beard. He wore expensive Western clothes.
    “Why'd you give yourself up?”
    “Running around in the middle of the desert at night ain't my thing.”
    “Fair enough. I'm Sergeant Robin Marlette, Arizona Department of Public Safety. What can I do for you?”
    Newman laughed. “Sergeant! I want to talk to someone higher than you!”
    “Boy,” Emmett drawled, “you don't want to piss this man off, because there ain't nobody higher or lower who can help you more than the Sarge here”
    “It's okay, Emmett,” Robin interrupted. He moved closer to Newman. “Look, I don't have time to screw around. I run this show. I decide who gets breaks and who doesn't. In this particular deal, since we just waxed Ramon Rodriquez-Lara, I decide who lives and who dies. Now, either you start talking to me or you can wait for a higher ranking officer.”
    As soon as Newman heard Robin say they killed Ramon Rodriquez, his eyes grew very large. In the glow of the flashlights, Robin thought Newman became deathly pale. Emmett and John looked surprised by the news, but were much happier about it. John slapped Emmett's upheld hand.
    “You've got to protect me,” Newman blurted out. “Miguel will kill everybody here tonight!”
    “You mean Miguel Rodriquez-Lara?” Robin asked.
    “Hell yes, that's who I mean! It's bad enough you got the money, but killing his brother. Oh, God!”
    “Slow down, slow down,” Robin said. “What money?”
    “What money?!” Newman almost screamed. “You idiots think there's dope on that plane?!”
    Robin grabbed Newman by the arm and walked him to the Cessna. When they got to the plane, Robin reached in and picked up one of the packages. Using his Swiss Army knife, he cut the package open, revealing a stack of U.S. currency. Robin pulled Newman over to the pickup and sat him down on the front bumper.
    “Okay, Newman, all you've told me is that Rodriquez is going to be pissed—which I already figured out for myself—and we have load of money and not dope, which I would have found out soon enough. Tell me something I need to know.”
    Newman, who had been looking at the ground, slowly raised his head and stared at Robin.
    “Why should I trust you? For all I know you're just another dirty cop.”
    “You don't know jack shit about me or my men and we don't know jack shit about you. So on that account we start out even, but right now I hold the rest of the cards. It's up to you to tell me why I should give you a break and frankly, since I've got one dead drug big shot and a whole lot of seized cash, I really don't give a damn what you do.”
    Robin leaned toward Newman and began speaking in a measured tone. “I'll tell you this. You better make up your mind about what you're going to do before the cavalry gets here, because once the word's out we nailed you, you're not worth a tinker's damn to us.”
    Newman stared at Robin as he turned and started walking to the airplane. “All right, All right, I'll talk,” Newman muttered.
    “What?” Emmett asked.
    “I'll talk, I'll talk,” Newman said raising his voice.
    Robin turned and faced Newman. “Give me the name of the first person on this side of the border you can make a case on.”
    Newman looked at Robin for a moment more and said, “Carl Walton.” Robin and Emmett looked at each other, their eyes meeting in