Murder in the Magic City: A Micah Brantley Story by G.P. Sorrells

Author:G.P. Sorrells [Sorrells, G.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Arch Creek Press
Published: 2021-04-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

Ross Sheridan sat alone inside a cold, steel box. His head hurt like hell. For a moment, he wondered if a pair of wild gorillas were fighting to the death beside his brain. Barreling into it intermittently with blatant disregard for his well-being. Why that seemed plausible in the moment was the least of his concerns. He hadn’t the foggiest idea how he ended up sitting on the plain steel chair in front of the equally plain, steel table. The last thing he remembered was taking some nondescript, white pills. Everything after that was hazy.

When he had first woken up inside the room, he found the lights to be uncomfortably bright. So much so that he felt certain Death had come for him in his slumber. The dull ache in his wrists and ankles seemed to thwart that prospect, but it wasn’t until the headache announced itself as more than a mild nuisance that he knew for certain life hadn’t escaped him. A plethora of thoughts rolled through his mind, most of them making little to no sense. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the once obnoxiously bright bulbs. His head continued to ache. The distant sound of knocking at the one door in the room was the one thing capable of disrupting the cacophony within his mind.

“Come in?” Sheridan said, confused. He watched as a thin, albeit muscular, older gentleman entered the room. A manila folder in hand, the man sat down in front of Sheridan and combed through the contents without averting his gaze toward his new companion. Eventually, he placed the folder down and slid it over to Sheridan. “Who the hell are you?”

“That’s a rather unpleasant way to greet your boss, Mr. Sheridan.”

“My boss?”

“Yes, I,” he tilted his glasses down and stared hard at Sheridan, as though analyzing him for a reason unbeknownst to anyone else. “They really did a number on you with the sedatives. I’ll have to connect with Dr. King’s team and tell them to scale things back a tad on that front. This is a situation I’d prefer to avoid in the future.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sheridan found it increasingly difficult not to be frustrated, and he certainly had no desire to be pleasant.

“Hurst. Jacob Hurst,” he said. He stretched out his hand in Sheridan’s direction, but pulled it back when met with the air. “I’m the Director of the Organized Crime Agency. The Agency to which you’re currently employed.”

Reality slowly pieced itself together for Sheridan, the unknown suddenly becoming known. One moment, he wasn’t sure who the hell he was. Just that he existed on some level and felt the slightest bit of control over his own wellbeing. The next, the world crashed down around him. A fog had engulfed him and restricted all that he could grab hold of. With the mist vanquished, threads of life roared back to him. In his mind’s eye, he could see himself sitting in front of the desk in Hurst’s office, speaking with him at length about why he alone was uniquely qualified for the role.

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