The Shooter by Peter O'Mahoney

Author:Peter O'Mahoney [O'Mahoney, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roam Free Publishing
Published: 2021-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

I’ve got something. Something big.

Chapter 17

In the Angry Friar, I waited at the far end of the bar, watching the television in the distance. Jeopardy was on. An old guy continually yelled out incorrect responses with conviction, missing even the most obvious of answers. I ignored his attempts as my mind was on Jenny Carpenter. She was only a small woman, but none of the murders required strength. The men were all shot through the throat. It made sense that the bullet had entered lower. She couldn’t have reached their foreheads to shoot them in the head. She could’ve used her innocent girl routine, and gained their trust, and then turned on them. But I still couldn’t explain the other lawyers. Anthony Waltz, yes, but I couldn’t come up with a theory about why she would’ve attacked Jeffery Stone or Clarke Hudson. She had no connection to them.

The door to the bar opened, sunlight flooding into the deliberately dim room, and I turned to face the light. Detective Williams walked in, scratching his nose. The door swung shut behind him and the lighting returned to a more respectful murkiness.

“Smells like this place hasn’t had fresh air through it since last night, Jack. This place still smells like vodka shots.” Williams approached me, then placed his hand on my shoulder and sat next to me. “I’m going to admit something that I don’t usually admit.”

“That you’re going bald?” I quipped.

He stared at me for a long moment. “I still have hair.” He self-consciously patted down some of his thinning hair and then ordered a Miller Lite. “What I was going to say was that I might admit that you’re right. That’s something I never thought I’d admit.” He continued to pat down his hair. “Why’d you have to make this about my hair? Going bald is a sign of higher testosterone, you know?”

“What was the big news?” I questioned.

He shook his head, and continued to pat down his hair.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Your hair looks great. And you’re tall enough that most people wouldn’t even see the top of your head.”

He grunted and thanked the bartender for the beer, and then turned back to me. “I’ll start with the small stuff that I’ve found, and then I’ll get to the big news. I’ll build you into it. I wouldn’t want to give you a heart attack.” Williams made an attempt to jovially insult me, but it missed the mark. We were both the same age, and I was in a lot better shape. Still, I humored him with a smile.

“My heart is doing ok, Williams. What’ve you got?”

“I’ve done some digging into those case files. Quietly, of course. And everything you said was right—all three of those deaths were via gunshot and the second bullet was found in the wall nearby. None of the families, nor any of the friends, reported seeing these people as suicidal in the past. Not one of these suicides was expected. Every single one of the people’s suicides you mentioned came as a shock to everyone.

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