Not Forgotten by George Lee Miller

Author:George Lee Miller [Miller, George Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734156423
Publisher: Frio Press LLC
Published: 2019-11-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Istopped in the shadow of a U-Haul truck parked across the street from Sylvia’s condo and studied the surrounding area. I was already starting to second-guess my judgment. Getting shot at does that. It makes you think about mortality and the dozens of other jobs that didn’t require you to risk your life. The shooter had used the same weapon to take out Sosa, which meant he was shooting at me that night. He had hung around hoping to finish me off. But why? And what had caused him to try again? The only explanation was that whoever hired him had found out about my trip to the oil rig. Other than discovering that Marcus Lopez was the new owner, I hadn’t really gained any information. That transfer had taken place in July. Why would Allison or Marcus want to cover that up?

When I was certain the coast was clear, I knocked on Sylvia’s door. She gasped when she saw me covered in a mixture of mud, sweat, and my own blood.

“What happened?” she said, pulling me inside. She wore a pair of my boxer underwear and a pink tank top.

Sam wasted no time rubbing his wet, muddy self against her bare legs.

“Sam, you’re filthy,” she said, and led him out the back door. I could hear her fill his bowl with fresh water. “Has he eaten?” she called through the door.

“Give him some food. He earned it,” I said. I heard her toss a cup of dry dog food in another bowl while I grabbed a beer from her fridge.

“Out with it,” she demanded.

“I played lead-ball with a spook between here and the McCullough bridge. Sam saved me from being KIA.”

“What does that mean? You were attacked? Speak English,” she insisted. “I’m not in the Marine Corps.”

I realized that I had slipped back into military mode out of habit. The strange part was that I was sitting in my girlfriend’s condo drinking a beer and talking about it, when I felt like I should have been briefing my platoon for a counterassault.

“Someone shot at me from a parking garage while I jogged down the River Walk. I didn’t see who it was.”

“You’re hurt?” She checked the bloody bandage.

“Just a flesh wound. I should clean it out.” I was calm on the outside, but angry at the shooter for trying to kill me and forcing me to crawl through the dirt. I was also angry that he had caused me to second-guess myself.

Sylvia grabbed her cell phone. “I’m calling the cops, right now,” she insisted.

I put my hand over her phone. “No. Not now.”

“When?” she asked. “After you get killed?”

“The shooter used the same weapon that took out Sosa.”

“Why would he be trying to kill you? You’re not on that case.”

She watched me take a drink of beer. I pressed the cool bottle to my forehead and clenched my jaw.

“Damn it, Nick. What’re you doing?”

“Calm down. I’m a private investigator. I’m doing my job.”

“The police warned you specifically to stay away from the case.

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