No Más (The Booker Thrillers Book 5) by John W. Mefford

Author:John W. Mefford [Mefford, John W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Private Investigator, private detective, pi thriller, pi thriller series, african american thriller, action pi books, action thriller books, international mystery, international thriller
Publisher: Sugar Hill Press
Published: 2021-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

21

By the time the waiter brought the bag of leftovers from Bolt’s food, the corner streetlights—at least those that were functioning—had turned on. We exited the gated café and walked down the sidewalk, moving west past a buzzing streetlight that acted as a bug magnet. I had to press my lips shut to ensure I didn’t swallow a wayward bug.

Bolt had found a deflated soccer ball at the edge of a street sewage drain and was dribbling it down the sidewalk, occasionally jumping into the street to retrieve the ball. He never bothered to lift his head to check for traffic, but he had this odd awareness of when to dip in and out of the street without getting hit.

“What’s your idea?” Sean asked, matching me stride for stride.

“Amador’s weakness. Women.”

“You plan on using one of my outfits, or do you want to create your own drag queen look?” Sean raised one of his fake eyebrows.

“Given what Bolt experienced, what he learned from that sick little general, we have no idea where Esteban is being held, if he’s not already in a makeshift grave.” I could feel my jaw tighten. “The time element is eating at me. It’s hard for me to imagine what has happened to Juan’s son. But I can’t give up hope until we know something.”

I hooked a quick left onto 4th Street, catching a waft of trash, something spicy mixed in. Sean caught up quickly, while Bolt continued kicking the ball around. The street was narrow, bordered by the walls of worn, brick buildings. A lone boy booted a can at the far end. Other than that, the road was barren of people and cars. I heard a dog bark bounce off the brick edifice, but with the echo I couldn’t determine where it had originated.

“You’re thinking a seductive woman might be able to pull information out of Amador without him knowing, am I right?” Sean asked.

“Bullseye. But what I don’t know is how a woman would get close to Amador.”

Bolt jumped over the sloped curb and hopped between us, juggling the ball on his knees.

“Not bad, Ronaldo.”

Bolt just laughed and kept juggling the ball on his knees.

“You think you can find a real woman who’s willing to take the risk?” Sean asked.

“If you can get us an opportunity, I’ll take care of the woman part.”

The corners of Sean’s mouth turned upward.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. Well, there is something.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Amador doesn’t leave the camp much, unless he’s traveling outside of the country to spend his money or going to a club here in the city. I’ve tracked him numerous times, and he’s only gone out on Saturday nights, and it’s one club in particular—a club owned by his cousin, Club de Python.”

“Snakes, really?” I shook my head. “My nemesis.”

“Clubs don’t bite.”

“Good,” I said, tapping a number in my recent call list. “Because this girl just might.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turned my back from Sean and the distraction known as Bolt, and pulled out my cell phone.

Two minutes later, I ended the call.

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