3 Time to Steele Read Online Free PDF Page A

“What…?”
    I’d expected any number of reactions from the tough guy—confusion, stoic indifference, possibly even tight-lipped denial—but I certainly didn’t expect to break the dam holding back the dude’s emotional reservoir.
    Tears welled in the gogre’s eyes, and he stumbled backwards, his legs wobbly. Rodgers had to step in and help him before he fell. As he sagged into Rodgers’ shoulder, he started babbling. “Darryl… No, no, not Darryl. This can’t be happening. He was such a good guy. He didn’t deserve this. Oh, gods…”
    Steele again came to the rescue. “Look, it’ll be alright. Here, let’s find you a seat.” She turned to me. “Daggers, go see if you can find this man a hot beverage.”
    “A what now?” I said.
    “A hot beverage,” said Steele. “They’re very soothing to people in distress. Now go!”
    “But…”
    Steele glared at me. I gulped and made myself scarce.
    I returned a few minutes later with a cup of steaming hot chai tea I’d purchased at a bodega down the street. Steele and Rodgers had settled the unpleasantly-skinned repo employee in a chair up against the side of the shack in front. Tears dripped down his cheeks, but his breathing had returned to normal.
    “I, uh…got you some tea,” I said.
    The gogre accepted it with his warty hands. “Thank you. Thanks. This means a lot.”
    As he sipped the beverage, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself, I pulled Rodgers to the side. “So, did you two learn anything useful while I went on my spiced tea run?”
    “His name’s Gronk Turbot,” said Rodgers. “He’s the manager here. Apparently he was pretty close to Gill.”
    “Apparently,” I said, glancing at the emotional wreck. “That it?”
    “Steele didn’t want to press him too much until he’d calmed down,” said Rodgers. “Probably a good idea. Most of what I told you was deciphered through a wall of blubbering and sobs.”
    Suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about being relegated to the role of beverage jockey. I joined Steele at the gogre’s side. She knelt by the chair, her hand resting gently on the guy’s knee. I suppressed a shudder, telling myself it was simply a show of concern. At least the dude was wearing pants.
    “So tell me, Mr. Turbot,” said Shay, “did Gill have any enemies? Anyone who might want to make him suffer?”
    The green and black guy shook his head. “No. Not at all. He was a lover, not a fighter. People liked him.”
    “But surely not everyone liked him,” said Steele. “He ran a repossessions business. I have to imagine some people got upset with him, and with you, when you came to collect on their debts.”
    Gronk nodded. “Yeah, sure. Most of them do. It comes with the territory. They get heated and yell, sometimes they even make threats, but it’s all unfounded. Nobody ever takes action. That’s part of the reason Darryl hired me—to scare people into submission while we repoed their stuff.”
    “Do you recall anyone you dealt with who got particularly animated?” asked Steele. “Preferably recently.”
    Gronk nodded again. “Yeah. Just yesterday, as a matter of fact. Darryl and I called on a guy, something Patterson. Rudolph, I think. He owned a small rickshaw business where he’d rent the carts out to freelance drivers, except he was way behind on his payments, so we came and rounded up all the rickshaws to return them to the bank. He got mad. Real mad. Had some choice words about our sisters and where we could stuff things. Screamed at us as we left, saying stuff like ‘I’ll get you’ and ‘I’ll show you.’ I thought he was full of hot air. I had no idea…”
    The waterworks started again. Great…
    “Hey, Gronk,” I said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have an address for this guy? And a physical description, perhaps?”
    He did, for both his home and his business. We collected the information and headed out, leaving Gronk to drown his sorrows in warm chai.
     

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