He Ain't Heavy by J.P. Bowie

Author:J.P. Bowie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: MLR Press
Published: 2011-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Two days later

Agents LaGuardia and Malone received some interesting information as soon as they reported for duty that morning. The body of a certain Manuel Ortega had been found floating in the shallow waters of a cove on the north side of the Cayman Islands. A single shot to the back of the head was the cause of death. The bullet, from a .38 pistol, was still lodged in his brain. Ortega was identified by two staff members at the Grand Renaissance Hotel after a picture of the dead man had been published in the local newspaper. He had been an overnight guest at the hotel but had not checked out. A profile was run on Ortega; it was discovered he had served time in the Corcoran California State Prison.

LaGuardia whistled through his teeth as he read that last piece of information.

“Thomas McKinley was incarcerated at Corcoran…”

“Too much to be a coincidence,” Malone muttered.

LaGuardia nodded. “What I’m thinking. Could be McKinley’s getting rid of whoever he considers dead weight.”

“Yeah…” Malone stared at the photograph of Ortega. “And this guy would definitely stick out in a crowd.”

§ § §

Brad opened the passenger door of his BMW and stood ready to help Duncan out of the car if it looked like he needed it. He knew Duncan was still hurting; he still walked with a slight limp, and his knees cramped up if he’d been sitting too long. The drive up from San Diego to Pasadena wasn’t overly long—but he wanted to be ready, just in case.

“I’m okay,” Duncan said, smiling up at him. “Just give me your hand for a sec.” They clasped hands and Duncan heaved himself out of the car then stood leaning on his cane, looking around at the other cars parked on the gravel path that wound its way through the graveyard.

“Quite a turnout,” he remarked, then grimaced as Jasper Follett approached, his hand outstretched.

“Dear boys,” he gushed. “Such a tragic, tragic day for you both.”

“Hello, Mr. Follett.” Brad shook his hand but restrained Follett’s attempt to hug him. There was something about the guy he couldn’t bring himself to completely feel at ease with. “Duncan and I thank you for coming.”

“Of course, of course, my wife and I wouldn’t dream of not being here.” His eyes focused on Duncan. “And you, my boy, to have gone through so much horror. One can only be thankful you came out of it alive.” He fell in step with Brad and Duncan as they moved toward to the other people gathered at the graveside. “No word yet of Thomas?” he asked.

“No.” Duncan put an arm round Brad’s shoulders and leaned slightly into him. “Damn legs,” he muttered. “I thought I could manage this…”

“They’ve provided some seats,” Brad murmured. “We’re almost there.”

Chad, Duncan’s physical therapist, hadn’t been keen on them making this trip, but Duncan had insisted, saying they couldn’t put their parents’ funeral off any longer. Now Brad wished he’d backed Chad in his protest, but he too

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