J.P. Bowie - Nick Fallon Investigation 2 - A Deadly Deception by J.P. Bowie

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

riving back to Laguna, Nick called Joe French to see if he’d dug up anything on Tom Skinner.

CHAPTER 12

Driving back to Laguna, Nick called Joe French to see if he’d dug up anything on Tom Skinner. “Not a lot, I’m afraid,” Joe told him. “One arrest on a drug charge with no time served, and a minor traffic infraction.”

“He was careful I guess,” Nick remarked. “I just spoke to his roommate, and he tells me Skinner was into a bunch of stuff—hustling, procuring— that kind of thing.”

“Hmm … Morales should know about this.”

“He’d know about a lot of things, if he’d call me,” Nick said. “That guy has a fistful of hairs up his butt.”

“He got his knuckles rapped for disclosing wrong information to the press. I think he’s still smarting from that reprimand.”

“Anything on Landon?”

“Not a thing. If he’s still alive, he’s managed to drop out of sight really well. He could be anywhere by now.”

“I think I know where.”

“Do tell.”

“Just a hunch—but if I’m right, I’ll let you know right away.”

“Okay Nick. I’ll tell Morales to call you.”

“Only if he can take time out of his busy schedule, of course.”

Joe laughed. “Keep in touch, Nick.”

Nick punched in John Hammond’s number. “Hey, John—Nick. How’s it goin’?”

“Fine … what’s up?”

“Did you know Robert Landon was from New Orleans, originally?”

“Uh, no … not exactly.” Hammond sounded distracted. “Why do you ask?”

“I think he might have gone home to New Orleans.”

“But why? Especially with the mess that city’s in. Why would he go back now?”

“I’m working on the theory that Skinner and Robert Landon were involved in something illegal. Whatever it was, Landon and Skinner fell out and Skinner got killed—by Landon or by some third party, I’m not yet sure. Chances are though that he ran after Skinner was killed. He could disappear in New Orleans very easily, what with all the chaos.”

There was a protracted silence from Hammond’s end. “New Orleans,” he said finally. “You want to fly to New Orleans. How much is this going to cost me?”

“Dunno yet … fare plus hotel—if I can find one …”

“I don’t know, Nick.”

“Well, here are our options, John. Either I follow this through, and that means playing out my hunch that he’s in New Orleans—or we call it quits, and I hand everything I know so far over to the police. If they ever solve the case, you’ll read about it in the papers. It’s up to you, John.”

“And supposing you find Robert there, what then?”

“I’ll ask him what his involvement with Skinner was, and did he kill him?”

“Right … like he’s going to admit it!”

Nick chuckled. “No, but I have ways of finding out.”

“Okay then,” Hammond said. “But if you don’t find him in two or three days, come back and we’ll forget the whole thing.”

“Gotcha. I’ll be in touch. Bye, John.”

Jeff was in the office when Nick got back about an hour later. “Any luck in LA?” he asked as Nick threw his jacket onto the chair in front of his desk.

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