Speed Metal Blues: A Dan Reno Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

“I finished a case for Covie and Associates last week. They’re defending a Russian mobster, and they hired me to dig up the dirt on the prosecution’s chief witness, a twenty-two-year-old low-level Mafia douchebag. I tail him for five days, and he’s got call girls running in and out of his place like he can’t keep his dork in his pants for ten minutes without dialing up a blow job. Then he and his goombahs head to Vegas, and I bugged their hotel room. After two days there, you should have seen the report I wrote. It was the longest I’ve ever written—like a damn novel.”
    He paused, set the chow on the kitchen table, and walked over to my refrigerator. I heard a beer can open as I put plates and silverware on the table.
    “What about you? Anything exciting?” He belched loudly and crushed the can in his fist.
    “I told you I got my bounty hunting license renewed.”
    “And?” He cracked another beer while I began opening containers of potato salad, coleslaw, brisket, and cornbread.
    “I captured a skip out of New Jersey last night. I had to pull him out of the mosh pit at Zeke’s. Unfortunately, he was surrounded by a bunch of his pals.”
    “Things get a little rough?”
    “I had to shoot him.”
    “Dead?”
    “No, but he ain’t gonna ever walk the same.”
    “What a shame.”
    “So, earlier today I was trying to relax over at Whiskey Dick’s, and a couple of them showed up and tried to start something.”
    “Anything more than you could handle?”
    “No.”
    He came around and sat at the table. “You want to go to the casino and play some poker tonight?”
    “Sure, I’m up for a few hands.”
    I thought I heard the sound of a car idling out front, something I typically would have ignored. Though it was probably just a neighbor, I pushed myself out of my chair and went over to the front window. I peered out at a street empty and deep in shadow. In the distance I could see the sun clinging to a steep ridge over the lake, burning atop the granite face like a slice of molten steel. Stars were visible up high, but lower the sky was a florescent blue, glowing with the last of the day’s heat. The small swath of lake visible from my window was still glittering in sunlight, the curl of the swells like silver confetti.
    The rumble of a motor grew louder, and the same faded, black Buick I’d seen earlier in the day crept into view on the opposite side of the street. The muffler was either shot or the car had a high-performance exhaust system. It was too dark to see the driver, or if there was more than one person in the vehicle.
    Cody thrust his mug next to mine, his hand on my shoulder.
    “What’s this?”
    “We got visitors.”
    The Buick pulled forward and stopped, hidden from sight by Cody’s truck. The driver killed the engine, and I heard the clunk of a door closing. A man’s upper body appeared.
    “You recognize him?” Cody said.
    “Yeah, from last night, and earlier today. Let’s go see what he wants.”
    We went out the front door. The man named Tom, the one from Whiskey Dick’s a few hours before, stood near the back of Cody’s truck.
    “What’s your interest with my rig?” Cody said. Tom appeared to be taking down the license plate on a small notepad.
    “Nice ride you got,” he said, glancing up and then back down to finish his scribbling.
    Cody snatched the notepad from Tom’s hand. When Tom reached out to try and take it back, Cody shoved him hard in the chest. Tom stumbled and fell to the pavement, then the doors of the Buick flew open and three men in white T-shirts, one of them Rabbit, jumped out. They tried to circle Cody and me, but Rabbit’s eyes were wide in confusion, and he hovered near Tom as if he was a child unwilling to let go of his parent’s sleeve. The other two men, average-size fellows, were trying to act tough, grimacing, spitting, flexing their muscles, but I didn’t buy it. Cody feinted toward them and they scurried back, and then, embarrassed,