Conflict of Duty: A Legal Thriller (Sam Johnstone Book 6) by James Chandler

Author:James Chandler [Chandler, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn River Publishing
Published: 2024-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

35

What awakened him, he didn’t know. But twelve hours later, Sam looked at the clock. It was 2:05 a.m. In the red glow from the clock, he could see his revolver, still in the shoulder holster. He lay in bed, listening. It wasn’t so much a sound as it was a feeling: someone was outside his apartment. Reaching to the other side of the bed, he found his prosthetic leg and slowly, deliberately attached it. He stretched and moved to ensure it was properly affixed, then swung his legs down to the floor, donned a pair of slippers, and stood in the dark. He felt for the pistol, dropped the holster on his bed, and began to walk slowly through his bedroom, paying attention to the shadows and shapes he could see through his drawn shades.

He’d performed this drill a hundred times over the course of the past couple of years. Sometimes it was the wind, sometimes an animal, sometimes a dream. Sometimes nothing at all. He would patrol the inner perimeter of his home, listening at the walls, scarcely breathing, anticipating an unseen enemy attacking in the pre-dawn darkness. Then, finding none, he would spend the remaining hours of darkness watching old movies and trying to get back to sleep.

This time, having patrolled the entire house, he stepped out onto his ground-level back deck, forgetting that his neighbor had installed motion sensors in his backyard following previous incidents involving Sam. Seconds later, Bill opened the sliding glass door. He too was armed.

“Bill, it’s me!” Sam said quietly.

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell are you doing this time?”

“Uhhh . . . Just looking around.”

“See anything?”

“No.”

“You need help, Sam.”

“I know,” Sam replied.

Cursing himself, he re-entered his apartment. He headed for the bedroom, but hesitated and then checked the front door. It was locked, of course, so he unlocked and opened it in a single swift motion. Seeing the small envelope on the welcome mat, he looked around quickly before deciding to chance it. He snaked an arm around the doorframe, exposing as little of himself as possible to a sniper’s bullet, then grabbed the envelope and slammed the door shut, cringing at the sound.

Breaking the seal, he extracted a single piece of paper. On it was typewritten, Nice place.

He retreated to his kitchen, drank a glass of water, and then got back into bed. It was 2:15 a.m. Sam closed his eyes, took rhythmic breaths, and tried to remember the good times.

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