"You talk like I should know you. said, 'I've always been on the right side of the law, remember?'" Money mimicked Benji's voice, perhaps layered it with a little more pleading than Benji had actually given it. "But, then, you introduced yourself to Wyatt as a friend of a friend." Money gave him a level gaze. "So which is it?"
"I'm Holiday's..." Benji began, fretting. He hadn't been aware of the slip. Money was obviously a little more on the ball than he'd given the media-mogul credit for. "I'm Holiday's boyfriend. Or at least I was."
Money smirked and settled himself on the chair. He turned his back to Benji and moved the mouse to waken the computer.
"So... " Benji began, but Money held up a hand, demanding silence.
Money called up a data-assistant and typed in "James Delmar". Within moments, the news headlines started filling the page. Money cursed once, in a low voice. When he turned back, he looked stone-cold sober.
"Do you have any idea what it takes to 'make evidence disappear?'" Money asked. "It's not like you can just erase records and sneak into police evidence lockers. But corrupting evidence is another matter entirely. Break the chain of possession or even just cast doubt on it, and the evidence becomes inadmissible in court...." Money had a far-off look in his eye. "But, you're still tall king about interfering with due process. and for someone who's 'always been on the right side of the law,' conspiracy to commit murder shouldn't come so easily."
Benji felt himself go red. For Holiday, he'd break every rule there was. He started to stammer a response, but Money shook his head. "If you love her--I mean really deep-down love her, then you've got to get her to a country that doesn't have an extradition treaty. Don't tell me. It's better if I don't know where she is."
Money stood, blocking Benji's view of the computer display. He all but forced Benji from the room, back into the VIP lounge. "When you talk to her, you tell her this is the only time I'm doing this for her. I'll make sure her account is squared."
Money propelled Benji through the VIP lounge with an iron grip on his arm. Money brought him to Wyatt at the door. "If you speak a word of this to anyone, you'll never speak again. You understand?" A meaningful glance passed between Money and Wyatt, the security guard.
Within moments, the security guard had Benji outside the VIP lounge. The big black man laid a beefy hand on Benji's shoulder, then rolled his shoulder and neck to one side then the other.
Benji knew what was coming next. He'd obviously been less than convincing.