Justified Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel by Robert Tarrant

Author:Robert Tarrant [Tarrant, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robert C. Tarrant
Published: 2023-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

RICHARD SHILLER EXITED the rear door of Cap’s Place and ducked under the outside stairs to retrieve his bicycle. Curled up under the stairs, next to his bicycle, was the small curly-haired dog he had seen several times outside the bar. “Well, hi there, boy. You having a nap out here?” While squatting to pet the dog, the odor of cigar smoke drew Shiller’s attention to a car with a lone occupant at the rear of the parking lot. The windows had the typical South Florida dark tint, but the smoker had their window down. One guy sitting in a car smoking a cigar. Could be that he wants to finish a good cigar before going into the smoke-free environment inside, but more likely he’s waiting for someone — or watching someone.

Shiller gave the dog one last stroke behind the ears and started to mount his bicycle. Having second thoughts, he returned the bike to its resting place and set off on foot. When he reached Ocean Drive, he turned south to head in the direction of the Hollywood Beach Broadwalk.

Cutting through several parking lots at a brisk pace, Shiller reached Broadwalk in a matter of minutes. As he expected, foot traffic in the area was heavy at this time of the evening. He walked as briskly as the traffic would allow for two blocks and then suddenly stepped into a small ice cream shop. Stepping to one side of the shop, as if he were looking at the extensive list of flavors on the wall, he watched out the front window. As he feared, the thin man in the black tee shirt and Marlins ball cap, who he had seen twice since leaving Cap’s Place, had taken a seat on the low wall separating the walkway from the beach.

Shiller sighed. Cops. Those two detectives must be serious in their desire to pin something on him. A cold shiver ran down his spine. It’s obviously time to be moving on.

“Can I help you, sir?” It was the smiling pink-haired young woman working behind the counter.

“Ah . . . ah, yeah, I’ll have a vanilla, please.”

“Cone or cup?”

“Oh, a cone, please. What fun is eating ice cream if you don’t need to fight to keep it from running down your hand.”

“Wafer cone or waffle cone?”

His attention having again drifted toward the window, Shiller turned back toward the clerk, whose smile had faded. She held two cones aloft.

“Oh, let’s go for the waffle cone.” Glancing at the menu on the wall, he added, “Two scoops.”

“You got it, two scoops vanilla in a waffle cone.”

Exiting the ice cream shop with his cone in hand, Shiller ambled a few yards down Broadwalk and then took a seat on the low wall. Casually turning to his right, he observed black tee shirt guy rise from his position on the wall, take two steps, and again take a seat.

Shiller considered the situation. Maybe black tee shirt guy was alone. If someone else was there to watch him exit the store, black tee shirt guy wouldn’t have jumped so quickly to follow him.

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