The Blood Dahlia by Clark David

Author:Clark, David [Clark, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B08RYB9XXK
Goodreads: 56559120
Publisher: Frightening Future Publishing
Published: 2021-02-09T08:00:00+00:00

20

The elevator ride was long enough to allow Lynch to pull himself together. Going back through the path was harder the second time around. He felt the first shot had weakened him, and the second gave him another body blow he wasn’t prepared for. The shot nearly doubled him over. Gina didn’t look that strong from the outside, but she did a great job supporting him as he pulled down on her arm all the way to the elevator. When Lynch let go, he collapsed against the back wall. Gina rubbed her forearm and stretched the fingers in her hand. Lynch was sure he had bruised her, something he would apologize for later, or just add to the list he owed her.

Gina was the first to break their silence when they hit the sidewalk and headed toward the carpark. “Well, that was interesting. Care to explain?”

“Not yet.” Lynch grabbed her by the other arm and yanked her sideways. His car was parked across the street, which is where they had started toward, but now Lynch was dragging Gina along the sidewalk. She went unwillingly at first, but then she caught up with him and tried to regain her composure.

“Where are we going?”

Lynch kept his silence as he took large strides along the front of the building and past its glass lobby full of people coming and going. Mostly going, as it was late in the afternoon, which created a crowd on the sidewalk outside. Not something he wanted for what he needed to do. He was a man on a mission, and those that walked past knew it. They didn’t wait for him to move out of their way, but parted as he and Gina walked through at a faster pace. The sound of Gina’s heels clopped away on the concrete at a frantic and irregular pace.

At the edge of the building, he found a service alley and ducked in, yanking Gina with him without a word. He kept walking as he scanned the tall silver and glass exterior of the building. They both passed a service loading dock, which was empty, which should have made Lynch happy, if he felt such emotions. He led her past it to a place a little less savory, the line of dumpsters fed by a chute. The odor was anything but pleasant. Take the pungent smell of rotting flesh from the rats that had been crushed in the bottom of the containers, mix in some acidic chemicals that made your eyes water, a few gallons of mildew and black mold covered in water that was just a few years from evolving into a new intelligent life-form, and add in the discarded leftovers from today’s special in the café that serviced the building. Something Italian was his guess, based on the sickening smell of tomato sauce over the top of every other sense assaulting fragrance.

“Figures his office would be close to the garbage.” Lynch looked up the building to where, on the twenty-third floor, the large windows of Devon Hines’ office were.

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