J.P. Bowie - Nick Fallon Investigation 3 - Murder Above Fourth by J.P. Bowie

Author:J.P. Bowie [Fourth, Murder Above]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

chAPteR thiRteen

Manuel snapped his cell phone shut. “He’s gone loco,” he muttered, throwing his brother a worried look. “Wants us to kill the maricón.”

“ Kill him? He’s not paying us enough to kill a man—even a faggot.” Roberto shifted in his seat with seeming discomfort. He stared out the car window at the Pacific Ocean’s gently rolling waves. “What do we do?”

“We must do as he wishes.” But Manuel didn’t sound at all certain as he spoke the words. He started the car, cruising slowly along the quiet road by the cliff edge. “We’ll have to get him alone. There can be no witnesses.”

Roberto nodded. “He can’t be with his partner all day. We can watch the office building. Tail him when he comes out on his own and force him off the road, maybe.”

“Not easy in a busy town like this. What if we follow him home? Jump him as he gets out of his car. We’re two against one. He can’t take us both.”

“Right. And it’ll be dark—no one will notice until it’s too late. A good plan, Manuel. All we have to do is wait until the end of the day.”

§ § § § Bill stared at his cell, aghast. Harold had finally gone mad. Screaming at him about betrayal and revenge. About killing those who’d interfered in his life and informed his wife of… of everything. Bill shuddered, Forsythe’s threats still resounding in his ears. The man was insane, no doubt of it, but dangerously insane—and Bill was certain he meant every word he’d screamed into his phone.

Bill knew he had to warn that private investigator, Nick Fallon. Harold had already sent men to take care of Nick, he’d said. Kill him—Jesus! Bill felt a fine sheen of sweat break out all over his body. He pulled out his billfold and found the card for Nick’s office. Quickly he punched in the number.

“Stevens and Fallon, Private Investigations. How can I help you?” Monica’s sweet voice sounded so at odds with the dread filling Bill’s mind.

“Hi. Is Nick in the office?”

“Yes, he is. Who may I say is calling?”

“Bill Warner.”

“One moment please.”

A moment or two passed; then, “This is Nick Fallon.” “Nick, it’s Bill Warner. Do you remember me?”

“’Course I do. How are you?”

“I’ve been better. Listen, Nick, there’s something you should know—there are two guys out there looking to kill you.” Bill was surprised by the sound of Nick’s deep chuckle. “Wouldn’t be the first time, Bill. But how do you know this?”

“I think you’ve heard of Harold Forsythe?”

Bill could almost feel the shift in atmosphere as Nick replied, his voice no longer holding a trace of humor. “Yes, I do. How do you know that sleaze-bag?”

“Let’s just say, a misguided moment in my life.”

“You were involved in the kind of sex he got his jollies from?”

“No, no. I just went to a couple of parties. I didn’t see any of that other stuff.”

“Other stuff.” Nick’s voice turned cold. “Stuff that got two young guys killed.” “Honestly, Nick, I never knew about that at the time.

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