LaBrava Read Online Free PDF Page A

expression, and the slim girl said, “Show me identification or get out. That’s the way it is. Okay?”
    LaBrava watched Nobles sigh, shake his head—not so drunk that he couldn’t put on an act—and flip open the wallet again. “What’s that say? Right there? Palm Beach County authorization.” Giving her a flash of official wording and flipped the wallet closed.
    He’s not a cop.
    LaBrava would bet on it. He heard the girl say, “That’s not PBSO or any badge I’ve ever seen before.”
    Nobles shook his head again. “Some reason you got your ass up in the air. Did I say I was with the Palm Beach sheriff’s office? You don’t listen good, do you? See, long as I got credentials as to who I am and Boca PD says it’s fine with them, then tell me what your problem is, puss, cause I sure as hell don’t see it.”
    Sounding drunk, but with a swagger that was part the guy’s brute nature and would not be contained for long; his size, his eighteen-inch neck giving him permission to do as he pleased. LaBrava had known a few Richard Nobles.
    The guy was no cop.
    He might’ve been at one time; he had a service revolver and the official off-duty look of a small-town cop taken with himself, but he wasn’t one now.
    The slim girl had already assumed as much. She was looking at Pam, telling her, “Get Delray Police, 276-4141.”
    Nobles said, “Hey, come on,” watching Pam dial. “Look, this lady you got happens to be a friend of mine. Officer at Boca name of Glenn Hicks says they brought her in here. See, I was even with her earlier tonight, having some drinks.” He watched the slim girl step to the side of the desk and take the phone from Pam. “Ask her. Go on . . .”
    The slim girl said into the phone, “This is South County on Fourth Street. There’s a gentleman here who’s been asked to leave and refuses. I’d like you to send somebody to escort him the fuck out of here, right now . . . Thank you very much.” She looked at Pam again. “Unlock the back door.”
    Pam edged around the desk, all eyes as she looked at Nobles standing in front of her, in the way. She said, “There is a Boca officer named Glenn Hicks. He’s been here before.”
    The slim girl said, “I don’t care who he knows or if he’s with the FBI. This guy’s got no business being here.”
    LaBrava was falling in love with her. He watched her look directly at Nobles again.
    “You’ve got about two minutes to get out of here or you’re gonna be in deep shit.”
    Nobles said, “All I need, puss.” He reached for her. The slim girl pulled her arm away without giving ground, glaring at him.
    LaBrava said, “Let’s take it easy, okay?” Trying to sound reasonable, an observer, but knowing he was getting into it.
    Nobles, close to where the drunk and the rigid man sat watching, turned to LaBrava, raised a fist with a finger pointing out of it. A clot of blond hair hung down in his eyes. He said, “I’ll put you through the wall you fuck with me, you little son of a bitch.”
    An ugly drunk. Look at the eyes. Ugly—used to people backing down, buying him another drink to shut him up. Look at the shoulders stretching satin, the arms on him—Jesus—hands that looked like they could pound fence posts. LaBrava, with the camera hanging from his neck, did not see anything close by to hit him with.
    The slim girl picked up the phone again. Nobles reached for it as she started to dial, yanked the phone out of her hands and gave her a shove. The slim girl yelled out. Nobles raised the phone over his head, as a threat or to club her with it, LaBrava wasn’t sure.
    He stepped in, said, “Hey—” as he raised the camera with the flash attached, put it in Nobles’ face and fired about a hundred thousand candles in the guy’s eyes, blinding him, straightening him for the moment LaBrava needed to hit him in the ribs with a shoulder, drive him into clattering metal chairs, close to the drunk and the rigid man. LaBrava got Nobles