Protector (72 page)
Authors: Laurel Dewey
Tags: #Police Procedural, #Denver (Colo.), #Mystery & Detective, #Psychic ability, #Women detectives, #Crime, #Suspense, #Women Sleuths, #Children of murder victims, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural, #Espionage
“Chill out, Tracy,” Carlos replied in a lazy tone, his oily, black hair obscuring his pockmarked, swarthy visage. “I told you I’d hook you up. This is a busy time of year. Santa may have stopped sliding down chimneys two days ago, but Camerón and Nico are still in business.”
Jane drunkenly moved around the pool table. “Shit, man, I’m jonesin’.”
“Have another shot,” Carlos suggested, motioning over to the approaching barmaid and her tray of shot glasses.
“Two tequilas,” the barmaid said, setting the shot glasses in front of Carlos, “and two whiskeys,” she managed to stammer as she slid two shots in front of Jane and surreptitiously tilted her head toward two men who had just entered the bar.
“Is that them?” Jane asked Carlos, dismissing the waitress and angling her pool cue in the direction of the front door.
Carlos squinted against the poor lighting. “See? I wasn’t fuckin’ with you!” Carlos raised his hand, catching the eye of Camerón and Nico, who made their way through the syrupy darkness.
Jane felt her heart race as the two Columbians moved toward the pool table. They were as imposing as she expected. Both were in their late thirties, but their road-ravaged faces made them appear fifteen years older. They seemed to drag the darkness of the bar behind them as they loomed closer. Camerón was the lead guy, but Nico was clearly an equal partner.
“Hey,” Carlos said, proud to be part of this nefarious deal. “How’s it goin’?”
“It’s goin’,” Camerón said, sizing up Jane.
“This is Tracy,” Carlos said. “She’s real happy to see you guys!”
“Are you?” Camerón replied, his black eyes boring holes into Jane’s face.
“You got the stuff?” Jane asked, crushing her cigarette into a nearby ashtray.
“You think I’m stupid enough to bring a quarter kilo inside a fuckin’ bar?” Camerón quietly replied with a sharp timbre to his voice.
“Where is it?” Jane said, undaunted.
“First things first,” Camerón announced. “You check her out, Carlos?”
“Yeah, she’s got the fifteen Gs.”
“No gun?” Camerón asked Carlos, never taking his eyes off Jane.
“You think I’m stupid enough to bring a gun inside a fuckin’ bar?” Jane retorted, echoing Camerón’s prior statement. She noted a stream of patrons entering the bar and realized if she didn’t move things along, the set-up was going to get complicated. “I got your cash.” Jane opened her leather jacket to reveal a fat envelope secured in an inside pocket. “Where’s my coke?”
“You gotta love these trust-fund snow junkies!” Nico said with a cocky grin.
Camerón stared at Jane for what seemed like an eternity. Jane matched his steely glare, hoping he couldn’t hear the deafening beat of her heart. Finally, Camerón nodded. “Take a shot to kill that edge and then we’ll go out to the car,” he suggested.
Jane grabbed one of her two shots and quickly knocked it back. “Let’s do it,” she declared, taking a drunken step away from the pool table.
Camerón eyed the remaining shot of whiskey, shrugged and drank it. Jane turned toward him as the last drops of liquid slid down his throat.
“What the fuck—” Camerón said, checking the aftertaste. He grabbed Jane by the arm. “How do you get drunk on tea?”
Jane started to react, but Camerón moved too quickly. He jerked Jane’s body toward him, opened her leather jacket, and pressed his palm against her side. “She’s wired! She’s a cop!” Camerón pulled out his nine-millimeter handgun and aimed it at Carlos. “You dumb motherfucker!”
Jane caught Camerón’s hand, moving it just enough off target for Carlos to escape the deafening gunshot. The shockwave sent the bar into a frenzy. Patrons ducked for cover as Jane skillfully punched the butt of her pool cue into Camerón’s groin, causing him to drop the gun. She kicked the pistol under the pool table with her boot as Nico drew his gun, aiming it squarely at Jane’s head. Jane rapidly swung the cue at Nico’s forearm, deflecting the gun before it discharged. A split second later, Carlos leaped onto the pool table and took a forceful dive onto her body. The loosely hung fluorescent light fixture above the pool table crashed down as Jane hit the wooden floor with a hard thud. As the fluorescent tubing exploded around them, Carlos landed a brutal punch to Jane’s right cheek.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” Carlos screamed, nailing Jane with another savage smack.
Jane managed to roll onto her back and slam the side of the pool cue against Carlos’s forehead. The momentary dazing afforded her the opportunity to struggle to her knees, just as a burly male bar patron jumped into the mêlée. Chaos broke loose as the muscle-bound guy pounded Carlos’s head against the pool table until he passed out. Jane, slightly woozy from the two punishing blows that Carlos had delivered, ducked under the pool table and swept Nico’s handgun under a nearby chair. But as she turned her body, the thick envelope of cash slid out of her jacket and onto the floor, spreading several hundred dollar bills under the pool table. Jane reached for the envelope, but Nico quickly snagged it and disappeared with Camerón into the dark recesses of the bar.
Jane achingly emerged from underneath the pool table just as the beer keg clock came loose and smashed to the floor. A stream of blood spilled from Jane’s lip and she stood, disheveled, amidst the chaotic aftermath.
All eyes in the bar focused on her.
But one set of probing eyes was more intensely interested in her than the rest.
So begins Jane’s next adventure. After the events in Protector, Jane has resigned from the Denver Police Department. Trying to make her living as a private investigator, she finds her past haunting her at every turn and her old demons rising up to torment her. Seeking some level of comfort at an AA meeting, Jane encounters a woman who knows what Jane does for a living. The woman wants Jane to drive with her from Colorado to Northern California in search of a man who matches the description of the killer who murdered her granddaughter many years before. She’s convinced that the man has started to kill again and she wants to stop him.
Jane thinks the woman is crazy—especially when she discovers that she’s a New Age devotee—but Jane is desperate for work. They head out on the road, gathering critical information about the killer, and themselves, along the way. Jane has recently experienced several events in her life that seem to border on the paranormal, though she is a complete skeptic in that regard. Now, those experiences come with greater frequency. And when the trail of the killer leads to a fundamentalist church, the consequences of belief and faith propel her toward a deadly confrontation.
Once again, Laurel Dewey has created a novel as rich in character as it is in suspense. Juxtaposing spirituality and religion, mission and manipulation, revenge and redemption, this is a powerful, taut mystery that will confirm the author as a top-flight storyteller.
You can read a longer excerpt of
REDEMPTION
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REDEMPTION
at
www.laureldewey.com
and
www.thestoryplant.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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The Aronica-Miller Publishing Project, LLC
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eISBN : 978-0-984-19053-9
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“These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” written by Lee Hazlewood. Used by permission Criterion Music Corporation. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured.
First Story Plant Printing: February 2010
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