Corruption by Eden Winters

Author:Eden Winters [Winters, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: _fathead62, Contemporary
Goodreads: 18431868
Publisher: Rocky Ridge Books
Published: 2013-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Three months. Three months without Bo, without even a phone call. Chill temperatures gave way to sunny days, and Bradford pear trees spewing pollen on Lucky’s Camaro. If Bo didn’t come back soon, Lucky’d be at the doctors for treatment of carpal-tunnel syndrome. He’d been giving his right wrist one hell of a workout lately.

He grumbled all the way to work, glaring at the cars whizzing by in the Peach Pass lane. Lucky paid taxes for road use. Asking a man to buy a pass to use the express lane didn’t sit well with him. How could they guarantee that their little electronic whatchamajiggies would only charge for his own tolls and not someone else’s? So he glared, and he growled, and he seriously considered crashing the privileged assholes’ party. And he would, too, if it wouldn’t have meant another call to Walter. Last time Lucky’d given in to temptation, a trooper had pulled him over and called the boss, questioning what work emergency led Lucky to break the law. Sometimes flashing a badge hurt more than helped.

He’d no sooner gotten to work when his desk phone rang. “Lucky? Could I see you in my office, please?” Walter didn’t bother waiting for an answer.

Lucky stepped into Walter’s domain, surprised to find O’Donoghue parked in a chair before the desk, but not the one Lucky’d claimed long ago for his. “You wanted to see me?”

“Come in, sit down,” Walter invited with a wave of his hand toward the chair.

O’Donoghue’s slit-lidded gaze followed Lucky across the room. Though he reclined in the chair, his ankle crossed over his knee and arm flung over the padded leather back, he held himself stiffly. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Mr. Harrison, we have a problem.” Nothing new. Narcotics bureaus and problems seemed to travel hand-in-hand.

Walter sat forward in his chair, lips clamped into a thin line and hands folded into a white-knuckled clench upon his desk. Must be a problem of shit-hit-the-fan proportions.

Lucky sank down into the chair. “What’s up?”

A cocked brow and shift of Walter’s eyes toward O’Donoghue fielded the question.

“Arthur Patterson’s in the hospital,” O’Donoghue drawled in the Brooklyn accent he switched on and off at will.

Holy shit. Not Art. “Someone tried to take him out?” Lucky might have to find the son-of-a-bitch responsible and settle the score.

“No, thank God. Freak accident. A young woman hauling a bunch of balloons to a birthday party T-boned Patterson’s vehicle when the balloons impaired her vision.” O’Donoghue bounced his foot on his knee, tapping out a cadence with his fingers on his patent leather shoe.

Art. Call him Art. Lucky darted a questioning glance to Walter. He forced his fingers to loosen on the chair arms. Don’t make me ask.

Walter didn’t. “He’s been admitted to Athens Regional Health in guarded condition. Once his condition stabilizes, he’ll be transferred to a hospital here in Atlanta.”

Good. Half of Lucky’s unvoiced questions were answered. Now for the rest. Before he could ask about Bo, O’Donoghue added, “And we lost our informant.

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