Wild Execution: A Coastal Caribbean Adventure by Tripp Ellis

Author:Tripp Ellis [Ellis, Tripp]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tripp Ellis
Published: 2024-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

22

“I’ve got a lead for you," Denise said, her voice crackling through the speaker in my phone.

We left Kenny’s apartment and were in the Porsche, heading to find Eddie Reed.

"I'm listening," I said.

“A guy called the department. Said he was in a bar and he overheard this guy bragging about killing Tanner Thorne."

"Any merit to it?"

"I don't know. That's what you’re gonna figure out."

"What's this guy's name?"

"He didn’t want to say, but I told him we had his name and number on the caller ID. Harvey Hill. I told him our Special Crimes Unit would get in touch. I’ll text you his number.”

"Thanks."

"Anytime," she said with a cheery smile in her voice.

I ended the call and waited for the info.

We stopped by Eddie Reed’s apartment on Windsor Street, but he wasn't there. I had Isabella track his phone, but he was off the grid. I figured Eddie was up to no good, probably lifting wallets somewhere on Oyster Avenue.

We headed up to the strip, and I called Harvey Hill after Denise sent his info.

He picked up after a few rings, and I introduced myself.

"I really want to keep my name out of this," Harvey said.

"Where were you when you overheard the admission?"

"I was talking to a guy at Dunsel. He was pretty drunk. The story came on the news, and he said a few things. I inquired more, then he admitted he killed the guy. Tortured him to death. Seemed pretty proud of it. Look, I'm no fan of these fat cats taking advantage of people. But I don't think breaking into their homes and torturing them to death is the answer."

"You know this guy's name?"

"Said his name was Marcus. I didn't get his last name. But he's a regular in the bar. I'm sure if you hang out there long enough, you'll see him."

“Do you recall if he smoked?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, he stepped out on the patio a few times. Smelled like cigarettes when he returned.”

I thanked him for the information and told him we'd be in touch.

We headed to Dunsel. It was a hole-in-the-wall bar, far from the flashy tourist places on the strip. This was a place for hard-core regulars that wanted to get their drink on. At this time of day, the regulars were already at the bar and a few rounds into it.

Pool balls clattered at the table, and classic rock filtered from the jukebox. The pace was pretty slow at this hour.

There were rows of booths against the wall, restrooms in the back, and glowing neon signs behind the bar, along with a flatscreen display. There were dartboards, quarter pool tables, and skee-ball. The drinks were cheap and weren't watered down.

I flashed my badge as we approached the bar.

"What can I do for you?" the bartender asked.

He was tall, mid-30s, with dark hair and a muscular build.

"You remember a guy in here last night talking to this gentleman?" I said, showing him a picture of Harvey on my phone. I had looked up his social media profile and grabbed an image.

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