THE THOUSAND DOLLAR TOUCHDOWN: A Colt Ryder Thriller by J.T. Brannan

Author:J.T. Brannan [Brannan, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Arrow Publishing
Published: 2021-12-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Turned out that Hofstetter was at the team HQ in Agoura Hills, probably reviewing footage of that afternoon’s game. Or maybe deciding on the next set of illegal plays he wanted Lowry to perform during the upcoming January game.

It hadn’t taken us long to get to the Cougars’ headquarters; we could probably have walked there in less than twenty minutes. But walking would have made it harder to avoid the searching eyes of the cops as we left the house. Lowry had called them up to tell them he’d been called to a meeting with Hofstetter, so they’d been expecting us to pull out of the garage. Lowry had also told them that his friends would be staying behind at the house, to drink beer and shoot some pool. The staying at the house part was true enough, although with their wrists and ankles bound with several layers of duct tape, they weren’t going to be playing much pool. I’d gagged them too, and tied them to a couple of chairs I’d brought in from the kitchen. I’d left the game on for them though, so when they were conscious enough to take in the world around them, at least they wouldn’t be bored.

Like I’d thought, Hofstetter had been only too willing to make the meeting. Being involved in this sort of scam, he had to be living on tenterhooks, paranoid about being found out. He’d already arranged for Ted Lowry to be disposed of, and he would probably be freaking out about the involvement of another person.

I’d decided to go to the Cougars’ HQ instead of having the coach come over to Lowry’s house, because it gave me a chance to get out of the place unseen by the cops. I’d traveled crouched in the rear footwell of the Rolls, smuggled out of the house in much the same way I’d been smuggled inside. Getting out of the corporate office building when the meeting was over would, I hoped, be somewhat easier.

Lowry had parked the Rolls in the office’s underground garage, accessed via a short ramp to the side of the building. The single cop car which followed us there used the outdoor lot, probably so they could more easily keep watch on the comings and goings of the other people using the offices.

Lowry let me out of the back of the Rolls, and we headed for a security guard who was waiting by the inner entrance.

“Hey Tony,” Lowry said as he approached. “How’s it going?”

“Woah, son, what the fuck happened to your face? Is that from today’s game?”

Lowry was wearing shades, which had been enough to fool the cops from the inside of his car, but up close and personal, the effect of our little interrogation session was all too obvious.

“Yeah,” he said, “I took a couple of good hits.”

“Shit, I guess that’s why you get the big bucks, huh?”

Lowry laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, me and my friend here have got a meeting with the coach, that alright?”

“Yeah, he let me know about it, go on through.

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