Dead Reckoning Read Online Free PDF Page A

Frank closed the door, cringing when the sound slammed into his brain. For the first time he realized how shaky he felt. That his head was fuzzy. To top things off his leg was hurting like a son of a bitch.
    Rick crossed to the patio door and pulled the cord to open the drapes. Frank lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sudden light. Christ, he felt like a vampire. Like the light was going to send him up in flames.
    Shaking his head, Rick looked around the cluttered living room. “This place looks like a freaking pigsty.”
    “You should see it on a bad day.” Scrubbing his hand over his face, Frank started toward the kitchen, trying hard not to favor his leg. “What the hell are you doing here this early on a Sunday morning, anyway?”
    Rick looked to the heavens as if to ask for patience. He looked military neat in his blue uniform and spit-shined shoes. It was a uniform Frank himself had worn a lifetime ago. But he’d sell his soul before ever admitting he missed being a cop.
    “It’s Monday, you asshole,” Rick said.
    That surprised him, and for an uneasy moment Frank tried to remember what had happened to Sunday. Or maybe it was Saturday he’d lost. . . .
    “You were supposed to be at Mike Shelley’s office at seven-thirty this morning.”
    The words stopped him cold. Frank was well aware that he’d been on a downward spiral for the last year. He’d been pretty sure he’d hit rock bottom a couple of months ago. Now he wasn’t so sure because he’d hit a new low this morning. Missing a job interview, for chrissake.
    “Aw, Christ,” he said. “Sorry . . .”
    “Don’t apologize to me, partner. I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses. I’ve done what I can and the rest is up to you. If you want to fuck up what’s left of your lousy life, go for it. Just don’t expect me to stand around and watch. I can’t stomach it.”
    “I’ll call him.”
    “If I were Shelley, I’d tell you to get screwed.”
    “Maybe he will.”
    “I doubt he’ll make it that easy for you, partner. You’re going to have to do some creative fucking up to get out of this one.” Rick stood in the middle of the living room looking exasperated and more than a little angry. “Shelley’s a sap. Somehow he got the idea that you’re some kind of a goddamn war hero.”
    “I don’t know where he got that idea,” Frank said dryly. But for the first time in a long time, he was ashamed. Ashamed for what he had done. For what he had become.
    “The ball’s in your court, buddy. If you want the job, you’re going to have to do some damage control and see if you can salvage the offer.”
    Frank didn’t know what to say.
    Rick made a sound of disgust. “I watched you throw away twelve years with the police department. Don’t expect me to watch you throw away another opportunity—”
    “I didn’t throw away those years,” Frank snapped with sudden anger. “The department tossed me and you know it.”
    “They offered you a desk job when you came back, but your ego wouldn’t let you take it.” He looked around the littered living room. “You’d rather wallow in this shit hole like some kind of a drunken pig. I’ve had it with you and your bingeing and self-pity.”
    Self-pity. Jesus.
    Furious because it was true, Frank spun away and limped to the patio door and looked out at the gray morning beyond. But he could feel his friend’s words crawling inside him, like a bundle of worms in his gut, taunting him with a truth he didn’t want to face.
    “So you got a rough deal. We both know it could have been a hell of a lot worse. Some of our guys came back in body bags, partner.”
    The image of Gittel’s torn and bleeding body flashed grotesquely in his mind, and Frank could feel the old rage building into a storm he wasn’t certain he could contain if it broke free. “Shut the fuck up about that,” he said darkly.
    Rick didn’t look away. “You could have been one of them. Think about that next time