Knock Out by Alan Lee

Author:Alan Lee [Lee, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sparkle Press
Published: 2023-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

Stackhouse drove south on I-81, rushing to Roanoke, with a fire burning in her chest. It wasn’t kindled by the praise of her professor, but by the cognizance that she was better at this than prestigious W&L law students. Curriculum-wise, she was approximately even with those kids. Experience-wise, she had lapped them twice already.

No! Not kids.

Theory mattered, but how you interacted with the real world mattered too. She excelled at that.

Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can really do this.

As she drove, her mind wandered, as it often did in the car, free from immediate responsibilities. She put puzzle pieces together, like her schedule the next few days, juggling school work, her internship, her job, and the W&L audit. ACA Boyd Warren knew she’d be in less, in order to race up to Lexington twice a week, and he seemed put out. That didn’t matter; they weren’t paying her. Or did it matter?

More puzzle pieces.

She needed to thank Dr. Pierce. Send him a note? Probably. A phone call? Probably. A gift card? No, ugh. Ask him to dinner?

No. No no no. He was the father of the man she found murdered. Hell no. Jeez, Andie.

What if he asked her out?

Did she have a crush on him? More likely, she was enamored with his power, his clout, his success. His charm.

Preston inherited none of his father’s charm. Preston had ordered fight clubs to beat up citizens. To beat up crazy Brian Gray.

Hurst said some of the fighters were scruffy. That Pierce brought the fighters, and some looked okay and some looked scruffy, maybe because they were homeless but how would Pierce manage that?

Her mind had been turning it over since the discussion with Gray. How had Preston Pierce met him? Or his unnamed missing friend? They ran in far different circles, the cop and the homeless guy. How would they meet?

Pierce walked the beat downtown, that’s how. The answer clicked. The guy was always in trouble, walking downtown at midnight for his penance, dealing with drunks and the homeless. He’d been forced to do it a lot, putting him in direct contact with scruffy drug addicts sleeping on benches.

He’d been walking the beat the night he stumbled on the molester attacking Mary Heaton.

“Maybe,” she said to herself. “Maybe instead of arresting the drunks, Pierce took them to the fight club. He needed opponents?”

Maybe Pierce brought the homeless for his friends to pound on, to break their noses. Grist for the mill. A gift. A peace offering.

Good Garfield. What an awful thing. But Pierce was awful.

She raced into Roanoke an invigorated woman, fitting ideas together, only five minutes late to the patrol briefing.

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