Mint Juleps and Justice Read Online Free PDF

can’t. I just rescued my dog from the hot tub. Maybe I can’t prove it was Keith, but I know. I told you something was going to happen.” She stabbed a finger in the air in his direction. “This is your fault for not listening to me.” She opened the passenger door and set the dog inside. “I’ve got to get her to the vet. I can’t deal with this or you right now.”
    He handed her a card. “That’s fine. Give me a call when you get back. I’ll come back out and see what we can do. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”
    Oh, yeah. Like you’ve been so much help before? She snatched the card, her voice still shaking but quieter. “Thank you. I’m upset.”
    “I can see that. Go on. Doc Brady’ll take care of her. He’s a good guy.”
    She nodded and jumped in the car, trying not to speed out of the neighborhood right in front of the very guy who could give her a ticket. That would just really top things off.

CHAPTER FIVE
    A fter eight long years, Frank “Goto” Gotorow knew to the hour how long he’d been a free man. He made parole seventy-one days and seven hours ago.
    How the hell did they expect him to lead a normal life on the outside? He could barely afford to take care of himself. In seventy-one days and seven hours the best job he could land was at that damn pizza shop with a bunch of college-aged kids.
    He’d been a hell of a mechanic at one time. He’d never realized how the oil and grime had married with his skin until the oil began leaching out for months on the white prison sheets. It had taken a long time for his nails and skin to get clean and now that they were, when he said he had years of mechanic experience, one glance at his hands and folks thought he was a liar. No mechanic had hands that clean.
    He’d pounded the pavement looking for decent work. The dealerships wouldn’t hire him because of his record, and even the small garages wouldn’t hire him when they found out he didn’t have his own tools. His old lady had sold all of his tools at a garage sale, and split with the cash when she realized what he’d done to that woman. Just imagine how mad she’d have been if she knew about the others.
    “Bitch,” he seethed. “It’s not like I ever did anything to her,” he muttered to the Jesus air freshener swinging from the rearview mirror. His buddy, Rabbit, had turned him on to Wheelie. Wheelie was already on the outside and he was the guy who’d hooked him up with the car . It had taken nearly all the money he had to his name, but he had to have wheels. Wheelie had thrown in the Jesus air freshener and a “Support Your Local Police” bumper sticker, swearing it would keep the cops off his ass.
    It had been a pretty sweet deal, but it didn’t leave him much to live on. He’d given up his weekly rental hotel room, and bought a ten-dollar blanket and a five-dollar pillow so he could save some money by sleeping in his car. He spent the rest of a twenty-dollar bill on canned Vienna sausages and Beanie Weenies at Kmart. His car had served double duty, bedroom and dining room, until he’d worked out the barter with the yoga chick to do those murals. He’d worked out a crash-and-cash deal with her and he’d liked staying in the big old building by himself, but now that she’d opened, that luxury was a thing of the past.
    Probably a good thing too, because he’d been worried when he met her friend that she’d recognize him as the guy who delivered pizza to her. That wouldn’t have been good. Especially since he’d used a fake name with her friend. He knew her name though. Brooke Justice. She was hard to forget.
    The money he’d earned had helped him stay on track with his internal deadline though. He still hadn’t figured out exactly what that plan was going to be, but getting justice was going to be sweet and Mike Hartman would never see it coming. Goto scrunched down in the seat as the front door of the house opened.

CHAPTER SIX
    M ike had settled into a productive