A Killer's Mercy: FBI Mystery Thriller (Jo Pullinger Book 7) by Thomas Fincham

Author:Thomas Fincham [Fincham, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

SIXTY

A sunbeam broke over the buildings of Great Falls, piercing a tiny gap in a pair of blackout curtains. It landed on Umpire’s scruffy face. Burning him like an ant under a magnifying glass.

He opened his eyes and cursed, flipping onto his side. Through his fuzzy vision, he saw a familiar face staring at him. It was an advertisement he’d stolen from a party store years ago. It depicted a slender woman in a red bikini standing next to a beast of a motorcycle.

Better than any dream I was just having, he thought.

The picture spoke to Umpire. It represented everything he was working toward. Chicks and motors. Respect and prestige. What more could a guy want?

There was a knock at the door. Umpire sat up. A few empty beer cans fell off the bed, rattling across the floor. He reached down, pulling another can from a warm six-pack.

The knock came again.

“Shut up!” Umpire snapped. He cracked the beer open. Took a few sudsy swallows. He belched. “All right. Come in.”

The door opened. A man built like a professional bodybuilder stepped in. He wore a goatee on a huge, jutting chin. His name was Cyrus, and he was Umpire’s right-hand man.

“You asked me to wake you up before noon, boss,” Cyrus said.

“I don’t remember doing that,” Umpire said with a grunt. He took another swig of beer. Then he grabbed the wooden baseball bat that was leaning against his nightstand. He used it as a crutch to drag himself to his feet. “Man, I’m hungover.”

Cyrus held out a handful of aspirin. Umpire swallowed the pills, nodding his appreciation.

“So, what’s going on?” Umpire asked. “Did he pop up yet?”

“Not yet, boss,” said Cyrus. “But he should be in town by now. Or at least close to it.”

Umpire sighed. “That idiot’s even more difficult than I am. Why did I ask you to wake me up?”

Cyrus gave him a disbelieving stare. “The game, boss.”

“Oh, yeah. The game.” Umpire remembered now. The local high school baseball team was playing today. High school games didn’t have beer, so he wanted time to get good and plastered before going. Thankfully, he already had a head start from the night before.

“There’s one more thing you might have forgot,” said Cyrus. “That little cousin of mine. He’s downstairs.”

“Who?” Umpire asked.

“My cousin Brody. He wanted to join up. I told you all this last week.”

“Relax, dude.” Umpire patted the other man on the shoulder. “Don’t roid-rage on me. I’ll go see what the kid’s about. If he’s got stones, he’s in.”

He stumbled down the steps. Stopping after every few to suck at his can. It was gone by the time he reached the bottom. He burped again, crushing the can in his fist. Tossing it over his shoulder.

Cousin Brody was waiting in the living room. Sitting daintily on the edge of the coach. Trying to avoid the filthy blanket that was draped over the back. He stood up when Umpire and Cyrus came in. But he didn’t come forward.

“No handshake?” Umpire said.

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