Big Medicine (A John Tall Wolf Novel Book 5) by Flynn Joseph

Author:Flynn, Joseph [Flynn, Joseph]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Mysteries & Thrillers
Publisher: Stray Dog Press, Inc.
Published: 2017-12-02T16:00:00+00:00

Farnam Street — Omaha, Nebraska

“You did what?” Brice Benard asked Wilbur Rosewell.

The Midwestern real estate titan and the cop-turned-PI sat in Benard’s office, separated by a desk that reminded Rosewell of the flight deck of the aircraft carrier on which he’d once served: a place from which engines of destruction might be launched at a moment’s notice.

Himself being one of them these days.

“Got arrested, just for a little bit,” Rosewell said.

“What the hell does that mean?” Benard asked. “The cops were full up and they didn’t have room for you?”

Rosewell laughed. “No, if it comes to that, they always make room. What I mean is no one came to any harm, and I denied doing anything wrong, which in this case is the truth because I was stopped short.”

“Start at the beginning and go slow,” Benard told Rosewell.

“I followed these two big Indians, the ones your friend in D.C. said might be trouble. They were tall but not bulked up. Sort of lean, both of them. One was older than original sin; the other looked like he might play a mean game of darts. Well, maybe, he might land a good punch, if you let him have the first shot, but I didn’t intend to do that.”

Benard saw fresh abrasions on Rosewell’s forehead, nose and chin.

“Somebody besides you got in the first lick,” he said.

“The old bastard, he moved faster than I ever thought possible. He stuck out his foot and tripped me. I got my hands up in time to keep from breaking any bones in my face, but …”

He shrugged.

“What the hell did you hope to do?” Benard asked.

“Lower my shoulder, slam it into the young guy’s sternum, knock him on his ass, maybe step hard on an ankle and be on my way.”

“Figuring he would be smart enough to learn his lesson right off?” Benard asked.

“Yeah. You said you didn’t want anyone sticking his nose into this deal of yours.”

Rosewell had known better than to ask just what Benard’s deal was.

The less he knew, the smaller his area of legal exposure would be.

“So the cops let you go because they had nothing more than two Indians’ word that you tried to cause trouble?” Benard asked.

Rosewell shook his head. “The younger guy, the one your friend in D.C. is worried about, he’s a fed with the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the director of their Office of Justice Services. The Indians’ top cop. The local cops turned me over to the FBI.”

“Jesus,” Benard said.

“Yeah, exactly, but they were busy with other stuff, and, like I said, I hadn’t actually hurt anyone except myself. The feds offered to give me back to the local cops, but they weren’t interested either. I caught the first plane out and here I am.”

“Nobody followed you?”

Rosewell thought about that. “No police cruisers. An unmarked car?” He shrugged. “What was there to see? I already gave the FBI my right name and address. Maybe some cop saw me board a flight to Chicago. The trail might end there or they could’ve checked my ticket and saw I was flying on to Omaha.

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