Black Jack Point Read Online Free PDF

of people.
     People with money. So he asked me if I knew of folks who might be interested in a very quiet, private investment. People who
     could part with a hundred thou and not blink.’
    ‘Patch could have sold some of his land if he needed money.’
    ‘Apparently not an option he considered,’ Gooch said. ‘I told him I would need to know more. He said he’d tell me more if
     I got an investor or two willing to talk to him.I told him I couldn’t waste the time of wealthy people, that I had to consider these folks were my clients and if this was
     some half-assed scheme it was going to make me look bad. Shit, maybe he was selling life-size Chia pets, you know?’
    ‘He gave you no indication why he needed this money?’
    ‘Just asked me to line up some multimillionaires. Which, frankly, represents a very narrow slice of my client pie.’
    ‘And you think he approached other people?’
    ‘He struck me as being in a hurry. I asked why he couldn’t go to a bank; he said he wanted it quiet. But fast. I believe the
     term he used was “hot and big enough to blow this town off the map”.’
    ‘So he wanted no attention now, but whatever he was working on would create a great deal of attention later.’
    Gooch sipped beer. ‘So there’s your anonymous tip. Was it good for you?’
    ‘Maybe he was blowing smoke, Gooch. Maybe he owed someone a big chunk of money. Someone decided to collect.’
    ‘Possibility,’ Gooch said. ‘You knew him better than I did. Was he a gambler?’
    ‘No. He was always just the nice guy who’d let you swim and fish off his land. I’ve never heard of him having debt problems.’
    ‘Blackmail?’
    ‘Patch? He bragged about taking Viagra. He was incapable of being embarrassed.’
    ‘An old man bragging about medicated hard-ons is one thing,’ Gooch said. ‘Maybe he had a deep dark secret that had finally
     grabbed him by the throat. Or someone close to him was in trouble and needed the money.’
    ‘Not Lucy.’
    Gooch clicked tongue against teeth, cleared his throat, watched a little red sailboat putter out into the bay.
    ‘Don’t start dumping on Lucy again,’ Whit said.
    ‘Lucy is lovely. Charming in a giddy, goofy sort of way. Impeccable ass.’
    ‘But.’
    ‘I’m not sure she can read a book, much less a mind on the other end of a phone.’
    ‘Why can’t you like my girlfriend?’
    ‘I don’t want to see you conned.’
    ‘She’s not a con artist.’
    ‘Yes, telephone psychics are known for their high ethical standards.’
    ‘You haven’t really gotten to know her.’
    ‘That’s true. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Fucking deliriously happy.’
    Whit stood. ‘I’ve got to get back to the courthouse. I’ll let David know what you said.’
    ‘But you’ll keep my name out of it?’
    ‘Yes. I’ll try.’
    ‘Patch wasn’t a quitter,’ Gooch said. ‘I’d look hard to see if he found that money someplace else.’
    ‘Found his wallet and her purse.’ David sat in the one straight-back chair in Whit’s small office. It was shortly after one
     o’clock on Thursday afternoon. ‘Dumped in beneath the bodies. Cash and credit cards gone.’
    ‘So this was a robbery gone wrong?’
    ‘Burglary, Judge,’ David said. ‘You know the difference.’
    Maybe it was a robbery turned burglary, or the other way around, but Whit decided to be rock-solid polite. Act like a judge
     for once. Let David be acid; acid was just asshole with a different final syllable. ‘A burglary, then?’
    ‘Yeah. Tran and Gilbert cut short their stay in Port A,head home two days earlier than expected, catch a perp breaking into the house. Perp kills them both, buries them on a remote
     stretch of the Point where they’re not likely to be found for a while.’
    ‘The killer laid Patch’s head open. There’s no sign of that attack having taken place in the house,’ Whit said.
    ‘Then it didn’t. Maybe they took the old folks from the house, hauled them down into the oaks,