To Catch a Fox by Geoffrey Knight & Ethan Day

Author:Geoffrey Knight & Ethan Day [Knight, Geoffrey & Day, Ethan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay, Fiction
ISBN: 9781479303694
Google: EnnSMgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1479303690
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2012-09-28T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Tucker was right—that Gone Fishin’ t-shirt really did bulge in all the right places. But for Fox it was possibly the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever worn. It pinched his bandage and rubbed hard against his nipples and when he raised his arm to wipe the perspiration from his brow, he ripped the seams around his sweaty armpit.

The sun was just up, but the day was already hot.

The nearby swamps and bayous of Jean Lafitte were alive with the drone and growls of a thousand different species of predator and prey. Fox dug his fingers into his temple, attempting to relieve the throbbing in his head.

He felt like hammered shit.

Everything ached, yet he found himself oddly comforted by that fact—to feel anything as opposed to the emptiness that had taken him over the night before.

Across the road from the Barataria Motel, Fox stood alone staring at one of the burner phones he’d picked up from his office the day before. He’d left Tucker in the shower and come outside.

He needed to make this call in private.

When you’re about to call a cop and tell him you were responsible for the deaths of two men the previous night, the last thing you need is someone like Tucker freaking out beside you.

Fox dialed the number. He knew it by heart. Detective Ford picked up after three rings.

“Rick, it’s Fox.”

“How did I know I’d be hearing from you today?”

“Does that mean you know about the fire at the warehouse?”

“Fox, it’s all over the news.”

“And I guess you found the two dead guys inside, huh?”

“You mean the ones that the coroner has already examined and determined that they were dead long before the fire got to them? The same two dead guys that were working for Santiago? Yeah, we found ‘em. But that’s not all we found.”

“I’ll take that to mean Santiago and his third goon never made it out of warehouse?”

“No, we found them somewhere else. We’re bringing them in now.”

“You mean you caught ‘em?”

“Not exactly. Fox, we’re not bringing them into the station. They’re going to the morgue. At least, the parts we found.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Old Mac Crawford who runs the gator farm south of town reported a break-in last night. He heard a commotion down by one of the gator pens and went to investigate. Turns out the alligators were having a little midnight snack.”

“Someone fed Santiago and his goon to the gators?”

“Yep, every last morsel. Except their heads. Someone decapitated them and stuck their heads on the palings of the fence to the gator farm. Had their mouths and eyes sewn shut with some sort of crude black thread.”

“What the fuck?”

“That’s what I’ve been asking myself all morning. This kinda thing is usually a warning shot between rival gangs. Here we were thinking Santiago was some sort of king pin, but it turns out he was further down the food chain than we thought.”

“He’s sure as hell at the bottom of that chain right now.”

“The

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