AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Maybe,” he muses, smiling. “Close the door on your way out.”
We all wander out together. “Who the fuck is Arnie?” I ask, checking my phone. Nothing.
“Old boy who owns the funeral home downtown. And a furnace.”
“Handy to know,” Danny muses. “Where the fuck did you get that money?”
“From the house,” James says, blasé.
“All the money from the house—fuck, all the money from everywhere—was on King’s boat.”
“The money on King’s boat was counterfeit.”
I gawk at him. “Where the fuck did you get nearly two hundred million in counterfeit notes?” I ask, stunned.
“From Benson.”
“Serious?”
“Fuck me,” Danny says, head thrown back, laughing. “I hate that I like that bloke.”
“Fuck, James, that was?—”
“Risky?” he says. “That’s what we do, Brad. Take risks. And adapt if they don’t work out.”
“Hey boys.”
I turn, laughing a little, but it dries up when I see who’s found us. “Higham?”
He cranes his neck, peeking back at the door to the morgue. “Isn’t there a proverb that says an artist’s last work is his best work?”
“Is that a hint?” Danny asks, brushing off his killer hands.
“A big hint.” Higham’s eyebrows raise. “The Amber Kendrick case.”
Danny withdraws. “What about it?”
“Forensics found an item of clothing at The Pink Flamingo. It had traces of Kendrick’s blood on it. They’re looking for the club owner, Elsa Dove.”
Fucking hell, Ringo sure did sort that problem.
“Elsa Dove?” Danny muses, nodding, smiling mildly. “You know, Dove is a massive flirt. Not much of a lady’s lady. I’m not surprised. I bet it was over a man.”
“Sure,” Higham muses. “You?”
Danny smirks as the other sports bag lands at Higham’s feet. “Happy retirement,” James says, and Higham wastes no time picking up the bag and throwing it over his shoulder.
“Where will you go?” Danny asks.
“Far, far away from you three.” He turns and leaves with a certain lightness around him, and we walk off in the opposite direction, all of us silent. Thoughtful.
All of our enemies. Dead. We’re . . . what? Free? Able to live normal lives? Peaceful lives?
“It’s the oddest feeling, isn’t it?” Danny says as we walk. “No one left to kill.”
“Really odd,” I admit. Like something’s missing from our lives.
“Can I go on my honeymoon now?” James asks, and I laugh, along with Danny. “You can come.”
