Play It Cool by Gregory Payette

Author:Gregory Payette [Gregory Payette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 8 Flags Publishing, Inc
Published: 2022-06-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Joe adjusted the Glock in his pants and walked toward the entrance to Will’s office building. He pulled open the glass door and took a quick look behind him. He wasn’t exactly paranoid but wondered if someone had, by some chance, followed him.

He took the stairs and walked down the hall toward Will’s office. Will had left his keys in Joe’s car, but Joe had no idea which one would fit the lock on the door. He tried four of them before one finally slid inside without resistance. He turned the knob and stood in the doorway after he pushed open the door. He stared at Will’s empty desk.

Joe didn’t know exactly why he was there or what he was looking for. The truth was when you gambled and didn’t pay your debts, at some point you were going to end up with a target on your back.

He stepped inside and looked around the small office and the old wooden paneling on the walls, like it was 1978. His eyes went to the white pillow on top of the blankets folded in the corner. A framed, black-and-white photo on the wall caught his eye. He remembered when Will took it. Made the front page, along with Joe’s article, after mob boss Victor “9-Iron” Merloni was arrested outside one of his nightclubs in South Beach.

He looked behind the open door, spotted a wooden baseball bat leaned up against the edge of the casing. He picked up the bat and looked at the barrel, signed by Andre “The Hawk” Dawson when he was with the Marlins.

Will didn’t have many friends. He used to talk about it like he was bragging. He said he didn’t need them and didn’t have a problem being alone. He was the type of guy who’d go to the movies alone. Go on vacation alone. Joe couldn’t remember him ever having a woman in his life. Other than one he’d pay for.

He walked around to the other side of Will’s desk, rolled the chair back and sat. He turned in the chair and leaned the bat against the wall behind him, turned back to the desk and opened one of the lower drawers. He pulled out a bottle of Wild Turkey, almost empty, and placed it up on top of the desk. He reached back inside the drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. He looked at the label, but it was blank. He removed the cap and dumped the pills in the palm of his hand, held it close to his face and examined each one. The pills were engraved with a V. All he could guess was it was a bottle of Vicodin, but he knew the way the marketing people came up with names for prescription drugs: it could’ve been anything.

But maybe his friend had just fallen a lot harder than he’d let on.

Joe had his eyes in the drawer, moved around the staples, pens, and pads of Post-it Notes stuffed inside. He heard a click and looked up.

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