The Judas Gate: An Evan Buckley Crime Thriller (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 15) by James Harper

Author:James Harper [Harper, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: James Harper Books
Published: 2021-12-02T07:00:00+00:00

29

It all happened very quickly.

To be fair, it had been a busy day. He had a lot on his mind, the conversations with Floyd Gray, Ridgway, Wesley, Studer and then Ellis the neighbor all clamoring for his attention.

He’d decided to risk a quick beer in the Jerusalem Tavern. Of the people that he’d wanted to avoid, he’d now talked to Ridgway and Wesley, and if past experience was anything to go by, the press would already be bored, their attention span matching that of their readership. The flip side was that it only left the people who wished to do him harm to worry about. No matter, the plan was to have a serving police officer at his side—even if she didn’t know it yet.

He parked a couple of blocks away. To give him some exercise, a chance to look out for anybody following, but most of all to prevent the Jerusalem regulars from giving him a hard time over the Taurus.

The idea of killing two birds with one stone while also mixing business with pleasure was an attractive one. He pulled out his phone to call Guillory, suggest she might like to join him so that he could bring her up to speed. Tell her where the young woman had parked her car before the grand finale, handing over what she’d left at the grave—hopefully covered with useable fingerprints to be swiftly matched to a person already in the system. He sagged a little, already feeling the weight of the congratulatory slaps on his back.

Then the phone rang in his hand. A smile flitted briefly across his lips at the thought of great minds thinking alike, his preoccupation with passing on his news momentarily preventing him from realizing that it wasn’t Guillory’s ring tone.

He glanced at the display. Froze. Heart suddenly racing as he stared at the small screen.

N?

The name he’d assigned to the number he’d taken off Hendricks’ phone, the one that didn’t go to the journalist, Marc Jordan. The one he didn’t want to think belonged to Newcomb.

He swiped the green button upwards to answer. Lifting the phone to his ear. Arm coming up, feeling as if it was tethered to the sidewalk by a steel hawser. Inches that may as well have been miles before the little metal and glass harbinger of doom reached his straining ear.

A sudden sound from behind distracted him.

Feet on the sidewalk, coming on fast, on top of him already. He twisted down and to the side, left arm up to protect himself, a nerve-jangling eruption of pain in his elbow, his arm instantly numb, the second punishing blow a heartbeat behind, something hard and unyielding cutting through the air, a heavy blow smacking into the back of his head and the unforgiving sidewalk rushing upwards to embrace his flaccid sleepy face.

Then nothing, an abyss of everlasting blackness swallowing him whole.

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