03_Cornered Coyote Read Online Free PDF Page A

with the old man."
    Slade had felt guilty for a long time about not going to see Tucker.  Hearing Shannon’s reminder made him feel twice as bad. He knew he’d been insensitive and should have had better sense than to treat someone like Tucker so casually. He promised himself not to make that mistake again.
    "Shannon, I feel ashamed of it myself. I really do."
    "Yeah, I can see it on your face," she said, enjoying the moment.
    "Well? Where is he?"
    "Miami Beach, Florida."
    "What the fuck? Why’d he go to Florida?"
    "Good question. You might want to ask him. Gimme a call when you get to Miami Beach and I'll tell you where to find him."
    Swell. I’ll have to travel 6,000 miles for a half hour conversation. Tucker better deliver, but there’s no one else who can tell me what dangers I’m lookin’ at if I go through with this.
    Hours later as Slade was driving from the Miami International airport to Miami Beach, he called Shannon and asked her where he could find Tucker.
    "There's a small bar that looks more like a shack in the Everglades on Collins Avenue between Miami and Hollywood. It’s called 'Palomaras.' They’re known for serving the best tequilas and margaritas in Miami. It's easy to spot. He’s expecting you. Good luck!"
    "Thanks, Shannon."
    It had been several years since he’d been to Miami and he’d forgotten how much he liked it. If it wasn’t for this case, I’d enjoy it a lot more, he thought as he eyed the seemingly endless parade of gorgeous women in varying degrees of semi-nudity.
    It didn't take him long to find Tucker. Deeply tanned, he wore a cream colored guayabera shirt and looked like he’d lived in Miami his entire life. Tucker spotted him when he walked in and grinned at Slade as he held up two margaritas. They went way back.
    "Fucker Tucker,” he said, the old childhood nickname easily rolling off his tongue. He took the margarita Tucker handed him. “How come your sweet ass is in Miami? Ain't there beaches in LA good enuf for ya’?"
    "Tut, tut, my man… harsh words for someone in love," replied Tucker. Slade sat on his barstool stunned, but then he remembered who he was talking to, and in a way, he was relieved. If Tucker knew he was in love, Tucker probably knew a lot more and the turn-around trip to see him would be well worth his time.
    "Thanks for seein’ me. My apologies for not keeping in touch, and now when I need you, I come running to ya’ like a cat who wants to be fed."
    "No hard feelings on my end, but somebody else might not be quite so forgiving,” Tucker replied. Slade nodded, acknowledging that he’d screwed-up.
    "Tucker, I got this case which has very little to do with detective work and more to do with saving someone’s sweet ass, not my usual line of work. I don't know what to do. Ain’t got no delusions of being superman and don't want to play hero."
    "Hmm… well Slade, I see dark clouds and rivers of blood and I see a white dove meeting a black magpie.” They sat there for a few minutes in silence before Slade spoke.
    "Who's going to die?" Slade asked, his face ashen.
    "I don't know, just know that people are going to lose their lives, but you'll survive, barely!" Well, it was worth the trip to hear that , Slade thought.
    "Your heart's already made the decision Slade, so let your brain catch up to it. Go ahead with this, but be very careful, and only do something if it’s absolutely necessary."
    "Thanks. Got another question for you. Do you remember a senator by the name of O’Shaughnessy from Los Angeles whose wife was murdered about twenty years ago?" Slade asked.
    “Vaguely.”
    “He had a daughter. I searched the internet this morning for her name and I can’t find anything. Everything I read said he had a daughter, but he must want to keep her out of the spotlight, because her name was never mentioned. Anything come to you?”
    Tucker closed his eyes and opened them after several minutes. "All I can see are mangoes in front of me." They both