Storm Damage by Ed Kovacs

Author:Ed Kovacs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE PHOENIX GROUP
Published: 2017-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

After her shift, Honey and I cruised in her unit out to the Tiki Hut. At night, this section of Mid-City was like the dark side of the moon. National Guard MPs patrolled the area infrequently; they were simply spread too thin. But if they did roll up, being in a police cruiser with Honey still in uniform, meant the troops would keep their M-4s at port arms and not point them in our face while we tried to explain ourselves.

A high cement wall surrounded the Hut’s long back patio, extending all the way to the next block. So instead of parking on Toulouse and going in the front door, we parked on St. Peter. I used Kiesha’s key to let us in through a heavy wooden gate that opened onto the very back of the property.

“Twee said her crew already finished the cleanup and were starting to gut the place. They’re working fast.”

“We breaking and entering?” Honey enquired with a fake smile.

“Darling, we are investigating.” I raked the patio with the powerful beam from my Surefire E2D Defender flashlight.

“Don’t want the boss to know you were here?”

“Why trouble her with small details?” I winked. “Hey check this out. Very neat work.”

The workers had used yellow crime scene tape to segregate the debris now stacked rather orderly on the patio. I found the section marked SAM’S OFFICE. Honey and I snapped on latex gloves and silently went to work. After a few minutes, my flashlight caught a glint of brass from a shallow cardboard box full of small office items. “Honey…”

The shell casing was startling in its size. I picked it up using the end of a pencil, and then looked at the case stamp.

Honey whistled softly as she moved in close for a better look. “Fifty caliber?”

“Fifty AE,” I said reading the stamp. “If this came from the murder weapon, no wonder the victim didn’t have much of a face left.”

“From a Desert Eagle?”

“Or an AMT AutoMag, LAR Grizzly Win Mag, maybe a couple of others. Big, heavy semi-autos that sound like cannons and are usually used to hunt large game. Only somebody strong with big hands uses a gun like that. Duplessis has a fifty cal Desert Eagle. Deon has one, too.”

“So do a lot of idiots,” groused Honey. “Trying to make like a big man. Seen guys like that on the range. It’s more gun than they can really handle, but makes them feel potent.”

“My contractor told me he was building a secret room in the Jupiter Lounge for Dice’s guns. And I distinctly recall that Dice owns a fifty caliber AMT AutoMag.”

The muffled crash of something heavy dropping from inside the Tiki Hut startled us. We extinguished our lights simultaneously and wordlessly drew our weapons. I pocketed the cartridge and whispered to Honey, “Looters?”

“Let’s find out.”

Honey was always game.

We split up and made our way onto the wooden deck leading into the Hut. We heard two men carping at each other. Flashes of their lights streaked through the windows as we crept closer.

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