41
Even with Luther driving like a maniac, they’d reached the motel a full half hour after the FBI team. Upon their arrival, D’Antonio had joined his colleagues. A small team of agents surrounded the one-story building, and the only other two “residents” this time of day (an obvious prostitute and her terrified john) had been quietly escorted elsewhere.
Grant and Luther sat in an unmarked Sheriff’s vehicle at a laundromat across the street from the motel. When Kiss-Ass, still in Beecham County, had heard about the arrangements, he’d complained that he’d want to be closer to the action. Action, my ass. Luther figured he didn’t get paid enough to sweat his balls off in Kevlar for the privilege of busting people’s doors down and getting shot at. And yet, his body vibrated with not knowing w
