Vice City by S.A. Stovall

Author:S.A. Stovall [Stovall, S.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781635336641
Publisher: DSP Publications
Published: 2017-06-19T23:00:00+00:00

OF COURSE he looks good. He’s lean and young, and Sandora—the best tailor in Illinois—knows how to craft clothes like Michelangelo knows how to paint chapels. She put him in a snappy little number complete with fitted black slacks and a smooth charcoal-gray shirt.

His haircut brings it together for me. His silky black hair is cut short on the sides and round the back and his longer locks have been tamed and trimmed. He looks like a goddamn professional, and it gets me hard just starin’ at him. He had the aura of a timid kid before, but now he stands a little taller and walks around exuding confidence. Clothes really do wonders for a man.

Miles straightens his shirt using my car’s side mirror. The chill wind rustles the privacy hedge surrounding Nick’s palatial mansion. The driveway runs half a mile from the road up to his house, ensuring that most don’t get a good look at the place when they drive by. Nick’s a private guy and hates unexpected guests. The cameras in the nearby fountain and trees track our every movement.

“I’ve never worn stuff this expensive this before,” Miles says.

“You get what you pay for. You look good.”

“Still…. A few thousand for a couple of shirts and slacks? Is that what you pay every time you get new clothes?”

“Yes.”

“But you get pretty messed up all the time. Getting shot and stabbed….”

“Don’t remind me,” I groan.

I motion with my head toward the mansion. Miles jumps to my side and shadows my steps as I walk to the front door. The tranquility of the property is a welcome change from the commotion of downtown Noimore. I admire the landscaping, and my thoughts go back to watering the lawn. I chuckle aloud. Miles cocks his head and lifts an eyebrow.

“Just a stupid thought,” I murmur.

“Hey, after this, will we search for my brother?”

“I called some guys I know who deal on the streets. I’ll call them again after we’re done. Trust me. This is more efficient than just driving around.”

“We found him last time just driving around,” Miles quips, though his tone has an edge of seriousness.

“Are you saying you want to just drive around a massive metropolis searching for your brother? Do you at least have any ideas about where he would be?”

“No,” Miles says. “I don’t. I’ll trust you. But… do you think we can make one stop once we’re done workin’ today?”

“I’ll make it work,” I reply.

Nick’s humble abode doesn’t have any blatant enforcers milling about, but I know they’re inside. I get up to the front door and knock, my announcement echoing in the entrance hall. Miles glances around with wide eyes, his attention lingering on the brass knocker, the detail work of the masonry, and the intricacy of the iron bars around the windows. The place is expensive without being gaudy, but his gawking has got to stop. I elbow him.

“Keep it together,” I say. “Don’t look like such a green hand.”

“A-all right.”

He keeps his gaze straight ahead as the door opens.

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