Getaway

Getaway Read Online Free PDF

Book: Getaway Read Online Free PDF
Author: Lisa Brackmann
Tags: Suspense
You look practically empty.”
    He signaled to the waiter before she could say yes or no.
    “Michelle’s a friend of Danny’s,” Vicky said. “Did you hear …?”
    Gary found a chair and pulled it next to Michelle. “Oh, man, I sure did. So that was you in the hotel with him?”
    She’d thought she was beyond embarrassment by now, but she wasn’t. She kept her voice level. “It was.”
    “I’ll tell you, this town …” He shook his head, his bow lips curved in a little smile. “It’s getting kind of crazy here.”
    “What happened to Danny?” an older woman a few seats away asked. Karen, or was it Kathy? Michelle had been introduced to too many people to keep track. She was thin, tanned almost as dark as the waiter, her hair in a long gray braid.
    “Oh, well, the way I heard it, some narcos tried to rob him, cracked him on the head.” Gary spoke loudly, so that others sitting at the table could hear him, even over the blare of Steely Dan playing on the bar’s speakers.
    “How do you know they were narcos ?” the older woman asked, but no one paid attention.
    “The narcos are out of control,” said a middle-aged man sitting two seats over. “Did you hear about what happened by Bucerías yesterday?”
    Everyone started talking at once. A battle with machine guns and grenades, between drug gangs and police. Narcos incinerated in cars. Police ambushed at a crossroads in retaliation.
    Michelle felt dizzy. She closed her eyes. Clutched her drink. Took another long sip through the plastic straw. Like a pineapple milkshake.
    “Fucking Sinaloa cowboys,” someone said. “They ought to put an electric fence around that whole shithole state. Save us all a lot of trouble.”
    “Guerrero,” Michelle said. “They were from Guerrero.”
    “It’s just really sad.” Vicky’s eyes glistened. “I hate seeing this kind of thing happen in Vallarta.”
    “If this were St. Louis, or New Orleans, no one would even blink,” Charlie said. “But here in paradise we expect everything to be perfect.”
    “Oh, come on,” the Asian man said—American, Michelle amended, from his accent. “Machine guns? Grenade launchers?”
    “I’m talking about a few robberies, not narcos killing each other.”
    “This town depends on tourists and foreign residents. If crime gets out of control and people stop coming here, everyone is fucked. Right down to your favorite Babaloo on the beach selling shrimp on a stick.”
    Michelle’s head hurt. Probably from all the cheap rum and sugar. She really wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, even though the sun had barely set.
    “Gary, Vicky tells me you might have Danny’s address,” she said.
    “I might.”
    Gary smiled, pushing his pillowy cheeks up to meet his puffy eyes. Like a debauched cherub, Michelle thought. “You want to check up on him? See how he’s doing?”
    “No.” She pushed down the urge to snap off some hostile response. “I mean yes, but mainly I have some of his things. His phone. And I think he has mine.”
    “Ah.” From his little smirk, she wondered if he believed her. He appeared to consider. “Well, I think I can help you out,” he finally said. “Anybody have a pen?”
    Vicky did.
    He extracted a business card from his wallet and scribbled on its back. “This isn’t the exact address, but any cabdriver will be able to find it.” He held it out to her, fingertips brushing hers when she took it. “I wouldn’t go there tonight, though. I don’t think he’s home right now. Try him tomorrow.” The smirk again. “Not too early.”
    She glanced at the front of the card. Plain black letters on white linen—nice design and good-quality paper.
    Gary Wallace. Trinity Consulting. A cell-phone number. An e-mail address.
    “Thanks.” She stood up, unsteady from the rum. “I’d better get going,” she said. “Thanks for the drinks.”
    Vicky rose with her and gave her a hug. “This is a good place,” she said in Michelle’s ear.
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