The Drop Dead Blonde: An AJ Harker Mystery (AJ Harker Mysteries Book 1) by Bill Craig

Author:Bill Craig [Craig, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crossfire Press
Published: 2017-12-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“I have no idea who Emma Cain is,” Walter Gilchrist frowned across the desk at him.

“Emma was a pretty young woman with a long bright future ahead of her before going to work at Costanza Industries. She ran shipping invoices and noticed something funny about the invoices and was bringing her suspicions to me when somebody figured out what she had found and gunned her down on my sidewalk. I take that kind of thing personally,” Harker replied, as he ground out his cigarette in the crystal bowl.

“That’s awful, but what has it to do with me?” Gilchrist glared at him.

“You work for Raoul Cervantes, Walter. Even the cops know that. Raoul owns Costanza Industries. So, ultimately, he is responsible for Emma Cain’s death.”

“I told you, Harker, Raoul is just a friend. Sure, he signed the loan for my house because we’re friends.”

“You’re trying too hard to sell that bill of goods, Walter. I’m not buying it. Neither will the cops when I hand you over to them,” Harker fired up another cigarette, drawing an even dirtier look from Gilchrist.

“You’re crazy, Harker. Get out of here before I call the police!” Gilchrist snapped.

“So, call them,” Harker blew a cloud of smoke at Gilchrist, who fanned it away from his face.

“I’ve had enough of your insolence, Harker,” Gilchrist stabbed a button on his desk and a loud buzzer sounded. A moment later a door opened behind Harker, but he was quickly on his feet and turned to face two ugly bruisers that had responded to the buzzer.

“Remove him,” Gilchrist ordered.

Harker sized the two up. They might have been good once, but had grown sloppy, thinking that as big as they were, nobody would dream of fighting back. Except Harker had been doing this sort of thing for a long time. He did notice that the second guy through the door had hung back to watch. To Harker, that made him the more dangerous of the two.

The first guy charged him, arms wide open, trying to wrap him up like a linebacker coming in for a tackle. Harker kicked him in the face, standing the guy up, and then followed it with another hard kick in the groin that dropped the guy like a coconut falling out of a palm tree. He kicked him in the head on the ground to put him out for the count. By that time, the second man was shuffling forward, one hand up to protect his face, the other cocked back and loose, ready to uncork at the first opportunity. Harker smiled. He had won the Golden Gloves in boxing back in the days when he had worked as a cop.

The man threw a punch and Harker slipped it, stepping in and hammering a one-two combo to the man’s body. The man grunted and stepped back, trying to put distance between them. Harker feinted a punch at the man’s face and then stomped on the side of his knee, hearing the muscles tear with a loud pop and the man tumbled over.

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