Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
On the way home, she’s heavy on my mind, with some anxiety mixed up and in it. That’s new. I need more coffee, maybe a Klonopin or two.
When I get home I devour a grapefruit and have more coffee. I start thinking about what I can do, and I get nothing. I keep getting flashes of Jeffrey, bloody on my kitchen floor. He had his hand on his gut, I remember now, see his hand clear. All bloody.
Fucking almost noon.
I’m going to need to get some work soon, but I can’t even think about that right now. My finances are okay. My paltry retirement is transferred directly to the police credit union, and I deposit my legit work payments in that account, too. Most of that money takes care of the mortgage, utilities, Internet, and phone. Stash cash for the day-to-day stuff. Yeah, I’m good, but I also need to find a place to hit soon ’cause I gotta stay good with that shit, too. Finding Jeffrey’s coke connection, Dreadlocks, will be a good lead, not only for a good hit but also for Jeffrey’s murder. It’s a slippery slope, ’cause Millhoff’ll be looking for him, too—or, like I’ve said before, maybe he’s already found him. It’s still worth a shot.
Seventeen
Seventeen
The music, if you can call it that; the trendy crowd; the DJ bent over the turntables, his long hair whipping air. Not music. Just noise.
I got here early enough to get a good seat at the bar with a view of the entrance, where a well-dressed, fresh-faced guy, probably rookie, is working the door. Jasper’s on duty working the streets. The bartender remembers me, pours nice. I’m thankful for that right now, having to cope with this shit. Three hours now. Already on my fourth whiskey. Nursing it this time.
There’s a lot of people here, so I keep my focus on the entrance.
I notice a young buck walk in. He’s wearing the typical baggy jeans, an oversize T-shirt, and expensive sneakers. A lot of dudes in here are dressed the same way, but what piques my interest is that he stands on his toes, stretching to look over the crowd near the DJ, where the booths are. He walks through the crowd to the same booth that Jeffrey and Dreadlocks sat in last time I was here.
A couple of girls with a couple of guys. Look like college kids. They scoot together to make room for him. He knocks knuckles with the dudes. One of the girls offers him a sip of her drink. He accepts. They talk for a bit, and I start to lose interest, look back to the front entrance area, then back to them.