Pale in Death by Ed Brock

Author:Ed Brock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

Valley Forest was a relatively benign place during the day, almost pleasant, with tall pine trees shading grassy common areas, so long as you were able to ignore the graffiti, the shattered windows and the occasional trash pile. Still, building No. 9 was near the back of the complex, far from any easy escape, so Freer was cautious, though not really nervous. He’d been here before many times. He parked the Honda close to the building’s common door so he could keep an eye on it from a window, and then walked toward the door. As he approached, he saw two men sitting on the steps in front of the door, wrapped in heavy jackets against the chill that kept its bite despite the bright sun that had emerged in the afternoon.

As he drew closer he saw that they were passing a blunt between them. Freer nodded as he passed, then went inside and found 9B on his right. He knocked on the door a few times and waited. The outside door opened and one of the men looked in.

“Yeah?” the man asked.

“Hum?” Freer returned.

“Wha’ ya want,” replied the man.

Freer paused for a second and then realized he must be talking to the occupant of 9B.

“I’m a friend of Boxy,” he said. “Are you Red?”

The man’s gaze turned predatorily analytic for several seconds, making Freer nervous. He was short, and his hair was into cornrows with beads on the ends that looked almost girlish, but he was densely built. And, given the story Boxy had told, it was a safe bet that there was a weapon or two hidden in his layers of winter clothes. Freer was much relieved when the man finally jerked his head over his shoulder toward the outside, then followed his own gesture and left the door slightly cracked. Freer went back outside and found both men staring at him with suspicious, blazing red eyes.

“Wha’ you want with Red?” said the man who obviously was Red.

“Boxy told me to talk to him,” Freer said. “I need to find three guys who might be causing trouble around here.”

The man nodded and held the blunt out to Freer. It was an easy test to pass. He grabbed the blunt and took a toke, and the men smiled at this.

“How you know Boxy, man?” Red said.

“You’re Red, right,” Freer said.

The man nodded.

“We did some time together,” Freer said, then grinned.

The men burst out laughing and Red’s friend said something about having something to do and the two parted with a casual fist bump. Red took the spliff back from Freer and ushered him back inside. They entered the apartment and Freer was ashamed by his surprise at finding that it was fairly clean and richly appointed, with a large flat screen TV on the wall next to a poster of Louis Armstrong. Freer sat on a well-stuffed loveseat, also leather, while Red passed him the joint and sat down on the sofa across from him. He grabbed a mahogany

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