Don Easton

Jack Taggart Mysteries 8-Book Bundle


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forty bucks in it. Seein’ as you’re a friend of Spider’s, thought I might let you in on it. We’re gonna jump him in the alley. Could maybe use a man. Want in? We’ll split it three ways.”

      Jack shook his head and said, “Thanks. Appreciate the offer but I don’t need any cash at the moment.”

      “Suit yourself,” said Ophelia.

      Jack watched her speak with others in the bar. Eventually she ended up at a table talking to a skinny junkie. Fellow looks like he’s about to die at the ripe old age of twenty-two. Then both of them got up and walked past Jack a few steps to the fire escape door at the rear. They stepped outside, letting a girl into the bar as they did.

      It didn’t appear to bother any of the clientele that the girl was about twelve years old, but it bothered Jack. He had seen child prostitutes before, but that didn’t make it any easier. He watched her head straight to the fat man and bend over and whisper in his ear. Then she knelt beside him and ran her hand slowly up the inside of his thigh. Moments later, the girl walked out the back door.

      The fat man leaned forward and said something to his two friends. They all laughed, and then the fat man stood up and made his way toward the back door.

       Should I bump into him and pick a fight? Deck him and save him from being another victim in the alley? Jack felt his frustration grow. Who is the real victim here? Him ... or the girl?

      “To hell with you, asshole,” said Jack under his breath as the man staggered past him. Jack watched as he opened the rear door, blinking his eyes and staring into the darkness.

      Immediately a tire iron smashed his face. The sound of his skull crunching above his eye and upper cheekbone was slightly audible. Before he could collapse, a hand appeared out of the darkness, grabbing his collar and jerking him off the back step. The door swung shut.

       God! They didn’t even wait for him to step outside! He didn’t even get a chance to yell!

      Jack was no stranger to violence, but the sudden brutality in this instance caught him by surprise. Must not show my feelings... He looked around the bar. Some of the junkies were looking to see if anyone would react. Several glanced in his direction. He smiled and held his beer up in a silent toast before taking a sip.

      Minutes later, Ophelia and the skinny junkie walked in through the front of the hotel and went straight to a table where a dealer had been busy all night. The skinny junkie hadn’t bothered to wipe the spray of blood off his face. Jack watched them make an exchange under the table.

      He could feel the knot in his stomach tighten as the crunch of the man’s skull continued to echo in his own head. The only ones who hadn’t noticed the attack were the two drunk friends up near the stage. One jostled his buddy with his elbow as he stood up and put some money between his teeth. The stripper squeezed her breasts with her hands to grip the money and take it from his mouth.

      “Hey! You’re still here,” said Spider, sitting back down in his chair. “What’s up?”

      Jack’s thoughts returned to the reason he was there. “I’m lookin’ for a piece. Have to have it by the day after tomorrow at the latest.”

      “Don’t have a gun.” Spider paused as the waitress yelled that it was last call, and then he asked, “What’s the rush? Maybe I could help ya if I thought it was worthwhile.”

      “I’ve been bangin’ this chick for about four months now. She’s kinda high class. Got lots of money and a rich husband.”

      “I’m listenin’.”

      “She wants him dead. Said there’s ten Gs in it for me.”

      “Ten grand!”

      “Keep your voice down,” said Jack, looking suspiciously around.

      “Why in two days?”

      “It’s her birthday. She’s gonna take the ferry over to Victoria in the morning to visit her mom. Her husband works at home by himself. Does some sort of bookkeeping thing. I’ve sort of been jerking her around for a couple of months. Now she says if it’s not done, she’ll find someone else. I swore I would do it.”

      “What’s been takin’ ya so long? Tryin’ to work up the courage to do it?”

      Jack looked down at the table as he toyed with his beer and said, “Yeah, I guess. Figure if I get a piece I could just pop him through the window and run. You come up with a piece and I’ll pay ya a grand for it.”

      “Oh, man! That ain’t the way to do it! You gotta get up close and personal. Popping him through a window ... you could miss or maybe just wing ’im. Look him right in the eye and take him out. That way ya know ya got him.”

      “I don’t know if I could ... I mean, I think my way is better.”

      “Forget the piece! You should use a blade. Knock on his fuckin’ door, an’ when he opens it, thrust deep into his lungs, just under his rib cage. Twist hard a couple of times and pull out. It’ll knock the air out of his lungs and he won’t be able to yell. He’ll grab his gut and bend over. Then bring it up and do his throat. No fuckin’ noise. No gun goin’ off to freak out the neigh-bours. I tell ya, that’s the way it should be done.”

      Jack put his hand up to partially cover his eyes and said, “Oh, man. I don’t think I could do that. I need a piece.”

      Spider smiled and said, “Just wait here. I’ll do some checkin’. I know everyone in here. If there’s one around, I’ll find out.”

      Jack watched as Spider quickly moved amongst a few tables, occasionally glancing back at Jack. Two people at different tables glanced at their watches. Spider is just asking them the time, pretending to look. It was what Jack had hoped he would do. He really didn’t want him coming back with a gun. The hook is set.

      Jack went into the men’s room and used his cell-phone to make a call.

      A groggy Elvis answered. “Yeah, she’s here. Just a minute.” In the background Jack could hear Elvis say, “Hon, wake up, it’s Jack Taggart.” A moment later, Laura was on the line.

      “You offered to help,” said Jack.

      “What’s up?” asked Laura, checking the time. It was after one.

      “Need a quick undercover tomorrow.”

      “I’ve got court in the afternoon. This the guy who killed your namesake?”

      “No, I’m fairly certain it’s the guy who did the war vet.”

      “Oh, man! Glad to be a part of that! What do you need?”

      “A girlfriend at about ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Won’t take long.”

      Laura sighed and then asked, “A bimbo?”

      “No, a couple levels above. Play the bitch. I want him controlled.”

      “Waking me up this time of night ... that should come easy tomorrow.”

      Jack returned to his seat as Spider came up to him. Spider said he couldn’t find a gun, but he was able to convince Jack to let him meet Jack’s girlfriend tomorrow morning at ten.

      Jack checked his watch as he left the bar. It had been twenty minutes since the sound of a crunching skull had started echoing in his head. He crossed the street to the parking garage and jogged up to the second level. He told Connie and Danny about his meeting with Spider and described Spider’s recommendation on how to murder someone.

      “It’s him,” said Connie. “That is exactly how Albert Dawson was killed. We’ve never released that information. Nobody knows that except the killer.”

      “Good,” said Jack, still distracted by what he knew was in the alley behind the hotel.

      “Jack!” continued Connie. “This is great! You’ve got the