The Color of Greed (Raja Williams 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

widowed
heiress who claimed that her husband, a man twenty years her junior,
had been murdered, not for sleeping around, which she admitted he
did, but for something more serious he had supposedly stumbled upon.
    Raja was never shy about crashing directly into a
case. More often than not, his “bull in the china shop”
approach would shake enough information loose for him to resolve
cases quickly. Sometimes that approach created dangerous blow back,
but that came with the job.
    However, Raja also knew when he needed to collect
more data before proceeding. This was one of those cases. He called
them icebergs—lots more there than was easily seen. You better
do your homework or you could end up like the Titanic.
    Back at the governor’s party in the hills, a
man whispered something into Stanley Bryce’s ear that brought a
sly smile to his face.

Chapter Five: Vinny
    Raja was killing time in his drab green motel room
when he got the call that Vinny would soon touch down. He grabbed a
taxi to LAX. Forty minutes later he was standing on the arrival level
carpet scanning the people coming off the planes. Most were
worried-looking businessmen in a hurry for morning meetings. A few
grandmothers were being swarmed by fawning family members. When a
gangly young man with a Tampa Bay Rays baseball cap pulled tight over
his head and an oversized denim jacket walked down the ramp, Raja
could not help but smile. Vinny liked to travel incognito. The young
man stopped in front of Raja and pulled off his cap. A large wave of
long blond hair spilled out.
    Vinny was Livinia Moore, a twenty-seven-year-old
computer geek who could have been a runway model if she wasn’t
so brilliant at hacking computers. Vinny tossed her hair back and
flashed her gorgeous smile. Then she threw her arms around Raja’s
neck and hugged him like the enthusiastic little sister she thought
she was.
    Raja pulled her off, only slightly annoyed. He had
first crossed paths with Vinny on a smuggling case in the Bahamas.
She had been tracking money for the U.S. authorities, and stumbled
across the smugglers, who were less than appreciative. After Raja
saved her life, they became inseparable. There was something to be
said for the old Chinese proverb about being responsible for anyone
whose life you save, although since that time, Vinny had saved Raja’s
ass more than enough times to pay him back with interest. Now they
were a fifty-fifty partnership based on mutual admiration, trust and
purpose. Vinny was also Raja’s closest friend.
    “Raj, I’m glad you are all right. And,
I’m so sorry about Leonardo.”
    “Yeah, me too,” said Raja, wistfully. “I
loved that little car. This case has already gotten way too
personal.” Raja’s love for classic sports cars had
started with a young boy riding the hills behind Kingston, Jamaica,
in his father’s black 1958 Jaguar XK150S convertible. He kept
that original car in his garage on Clearwater Beach. Collecting
sports cars was one of his passions, and he never met a classic
two-seater he could resist. He owned dozens, and kept them maintained
and garaged in various cities just so he could drive them whenever he
was in town. In LA he kept a 1966 Alpha Romeo Duetto named Leonardo
in a private garage east of the city. With upgraded brakes and tuned
suspension, it was a dream to drive. Leonardo had been one of his
favorites.
    Although it was an expensive, extravagant hobby,
Raja could certainly afford it. He was loaded. One rumor held that
Raja’s great-grandfather had found a pirate treasure worth
millions on a small Caribbean island, making him instantly rich, a la
the Count of Monte Cristo. Another story was that his
great-grandfather had been a pirate himself, raiding ships off the
Spanish Main that were loaded with loot. The truth was less exotic.
Raja’s ancestors had worked the sugar cane fields dawn to dusk
until they had saved the money to seed a small Cuban molasses label
called Raja’s Molasses, meaning the