The Murder Run by Michael P King

Author:Michael P King [King, Michael P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780999364840
Publisher: Blurred Lines Press
Published: 2019-01-07T05:00:00+00:00

Midafternoon, Nicole sat in the Camry across the street and down the block from Missy’s condo. Most of the on-street parking was full. The row houses were all newly renovated and tastefully landscaped with small trees and bright-green shrubs. No one had been in or out of the condo in over an hour, and no one appeared to be watching it. Nicole was wearing a black pantsuit with an open-collar pink shirt. If anyone asked, she was a real estate agent. She got out of the car with a small bag over her shoulder and a clipboard in her hand. She walked purposefully down the sidewalk, crossed the street at an angle, and strode up the steps to Missy’s row house. She reached in her bag as if she were grabbing her keys, brought out her lock picks, and was inside in a matter of seconds.

The row house was decorated in an arty, contemporary style. Not Missy at all. Nicole moved quickly through the rooms, glancing in the closets as she went. There was no landline phone with a voice mail to listen to, no desk piled with papers to sort through, no mess to indicate that somebody else had searched the house. She called Tony. “Nothing here. The girlfriend must be a good three inches taller than Missy.”

“Have you gone by her gallery?”

“That’s my next stop. I came here first.”

“I reached out to Kevin with that license plate number.”

“Why not just use Billy?”

“Don’t want anyone knowing too much about our business. Besides, Kevin owes us a favor. It’ll be cheaper for your girl.”

“Thanks.”

Nicole drove downtown into the shopping district. The gallery—American Moderns—was located midblock between an antique furniture shop and Zelda Jane’s Interior Design Studio. Two women’s torsos, sculpted in white clay, were on display in the window. Nicole pushed through the glass door. Large abstract paintings hung on the side and back walls. The interior was filled with sculptures, while jewelry was in a case at the back.

“Good afternoon.” A young woman in a black dress, her right arm tattooed from the back of her hand all the way up to her shoulder, smiled as she walked toward her.

“Is Betty here?”

“She’s on a buying trip. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll try back another time. Tell her Carrie Traveler stopped by to see her girlfriend.”

When she came back out onto the street, she noticed a guy sitting in a pickup truck where he could keep an eye on the gallery. Military haircut, sunglasses, cigarette in one hand—the kind of guy who would be completely at home in a third-world hot spot. Nicole sauntered along, playing the window-shopping game. As she walked, she got out her phone and took a picture of the window display in a dress shop. Then, as she moved to put the phone away, she took pictures of the guy and the license plate of his truck. She walked around the block to get back to her car so that she wouldn’t have to walk past him and risk drawing attention to herself.

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