Deadly Intent: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 4) Read Online Free PDF

conspicuously.
    Feds... They might as well wear an A-board and ring a bell.
    Shit.
    He takes his hat off and surveys the bar before walking over to me. “Evenin’, Adrian,” he says.
    “Sheriff,” I reply with a nod. “Get you a drink?”
    He shakes his head. “Not tonight, thank you. Listen… is there somewhere we can talk?”
    I look at him, then at the two men with him in turn, and let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, we can go in the back.” I turn to Phil, who’s standing next to me serving customers. “You okay to watch the bar on your own for a few?”
    “Sure thing,” he replies, with a casual shrug.
    I turn back to Raynor. “Follow me,” I say.
    We walk to the back room, and I offer the good sheriff a seat. I don’t acknowledge the two suits that are with him, and they seem happy enough standing.
    “What can I do for you, Sheriff?” I ask.
    He lets out a heavy sigh and strokes his mustache before talking. “Adrian, these boys are from the FBI…”
    “I never would’ve guessed.”
    “They just got here and came straight to me, asking after you. They need to—”
    “Mr… Adrian, we have a few questions for you regarding the murder of three men in this town last night,” says one of the agents. They’re both standing side by side in front of the door. The one on the left is doing the talking. “Do you mind first confirming where you were last night?”
    I smile to myself, thinking about what Tori said this morning. “I was in bed from about ten-thirty,” I say.
    “What time did you fall asleep?” asks the other agent.
    I shrug, as I genuinely have no idea. “I dunno, about eleven, maybe?”
    “Can anyone verify that?”
    “My girlfriend can, she was with me the whole night.”
    “I see…” says the first agent. They seem to be taking it in turns. “Tell us about what happened in the bar earlier in the evening.”
    I sigh, already tiring of going over it. “Not much to tell—three guys walked in, asked to speak to me. They started making trouble, and I threw them out.”
    “Three guys? You threw them out single-handedly?”
    “Yeah…” I say. I still don’t see why that’s so hard to believe, but never mind.
    The guy on the right produces a device from his pocket. It looks like a cell phone, but it’s slightly bigger. He taps on the screen, and then turns it to show me. Displayed on it are pictures of three men. Black and white eight-by-tens, presumably from existing files they have on them.
    “Are these the gentleman you evicted last night?” he asks.
    I look and nod. “That’s them, yeah.”
    “Our crime scene report of the shooting suggests the man in the back seat had a dislocated elbow…”
    I smile. “ That was me,” I say. “But if you’re looking for the shooter, you’re in the wrong place. I didn’t kill them.”
    “But you threatened them?”
    “Yes.”
    “What did you say?”
    “I said the next the time they come into my bar and cause trouble, they’ll leave in a body bag. But I wouldn’t read too much into that. Confrontations like that are usually won by words and a strong physical presence, not by actual violence. I was just saying what I needed to in order to make my point.”
    “But you did use violence…” says the agent on the right.
    I nod again. “That’s right, but only because one of them pulled a gun on me. I grew concerned for the safety of the people in my bar, so I imposed what force I deemed necessary at the time.”
    I look quickly at Raynor, who’s sitting looking genuinely sorry that he’s putting me through this.
    “Okay,” says the first agent again. “You’re not a suspect for the shooting.”
    “So why are you here? There’s no need to tell me I didn’t do it—I already knew that.”
    “Adrian, the men that were found murdered were on our watch list. They had known links to a suspected terrorist named Yalafi Hussein. Does that name ring any bells with you?”
    I shake my head.
    “Not surprising,” says the