AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Eleven
Luke leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced and resting on his stomach. He regarded the detective with the same cool, unreadable expression he was faced with. The man was middle-aged with hints of gray dusting his temples, but his build was solid and his eyes flashed with intelligence. Nothing about him was infirm, just calculating, observant. Luke would bet that not much slipped by this man.
The detective wanted him to relay the details of that evening, and he did. “There’s not much to tell,” Luke began. “I was inside, pushing papers, when my guy radioed me telling me get my ass up front, that something had happened. I saw the kid lying on the ground unconscious, called the police, though from what I understand, they had already been called, and ran train on the customers who’d decided that it was the perfect time to skip out on their tab.” He sighed deeply, the scene playing out in his head like it had just happened. “After that, the ambulance showed up, the police took a report and business was business again.”
He said all this while Detective Young just listened and nodded. “I’m not a cop or anything, but shouldn’t you be taking notes or something?” Luke asked, a hint of sarcasm adding an extra bite to his words.
The detective shrugged a broad shoulder. “This is all in the paperwork already.”
Luke arched an eyebrow. “Then why bother asking?”
“Because, Mr. Reed,” Detective Young said, sitting forward in his seat and pegging Luke with intense eyes. “I think there is more to this than you’re telling, and I want to know what that something is.”
Luke looked him square in the eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I know what kind of man you are, Mr. Reed,” Detective young claimed, easing back in his chair and mimicking Luke’s relaxed pose. “And I can well imagine that you and the law don’t work well together.”
“The law and I don’t work together at all,” Luke smirked.
“Oh, I know,” the detective said with a cunning smile. “You see, I’ve been spending some time looking into you and…” his eyes lifted and did a quick scan of the room, “your club. It seems it’s a very popular place.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I wasn’t aware that being successful was a crime, detective.”
“Oh, it’s not,” Young assured him. “But trafficking illegal drugs and operating a prostitution ring is.”
For one long, drawn out moment, both men stared at each other, both refusing to break eye contact. Then, a light laugh ruptured the silence. “Wow, tell me, detective, does your captain know how badly your mind is slipping?” Tired of listening to his accusations, Luke stood, preparing to see the man out. “This meeting is over.”
Detective Young stood, but made no move to leave. “My mind is as solid as a stone, Mr. Reed, and you and I both know that this business you are operating is nothing short of a sleazy and corrupt hole in the ground with a quickly approaching expiration date.”
A wild tick had started in Luke’s jaw, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. Instead, he opened the door and waited for the man to leave.
Detective Young fastened the button on his jacket. As he stepped past Luke and into the hall, he stopped, his gaze focused down the corridor to the flashing colored lights and pulsing music. “Contrary to what you are probably thinking right now, Mr. Reed, I actually think you might be a decent guy. And I don’t have to tell you that I’m not the only one who is wise to what happens here.” Detective Young set his hard eyes on Luke. “A little advice. The game you’re playing, it never ends well. I urge you to consider a change, maybe clean house, if you know what I’m saying.”
One of the waitresses appeared at the end of the hall, her long, even strides eating up the carpet. When she finally noticed the men standing there, she smiled hesitantly, unsure of what she had walked in on.
Detective Young offered her a friendly greeting and tilted his head at Luke. “Think about what I said. I’ll see you around.”
Luke stood in the doorway watching until the detective disappeared into the darkened club, and then returned to his office. He knew to expect someone would eventually come around asking questions, but it still irked him that the focus was mainly on him and not the investigation. As if he had something to do with that kid getting mowed down.
Anger pulsed through his body in waves, causing a slight tremor in his hands as he pulled up his chair and settled behind the desk. The detective was right, of course. Luke didn’t work with the law, he worked around the law. And he did know more than he was telling. Terri’s husband was probably the person behind all of this, but who was listening? No one, and Luke had a sneaking feeling why that was. It seemed good old Randy was getting some help on the inside, but from whom?
Randy needed money, like, yesterday. He’d been too busy hunting his wife to hunt for a job just yet, so he decided to pay a visit to his benefactor. Pulling up to the pristine home that resembled his own home once upon a time, Randy stepped down from the cab and headed up the walk. The door opened before his foot could touch the first step, and out stepped the man he’d come to see.
“Randy,” the man said, eyes darting around nervously to be sure no one had noticed his arrival. “What are you doing here?” He ushered him inside and quickly shut the door.
“I need more money,” Randy said, making himself at home on the suede sectional.
Taking the seat across from him, the man regarded Randy coolly. “Randy, we agreed that if you needed something, you’d call first. You can’t just show up at my house like this. Someone could see you, and, no offense, but I cannot be associated with you. I have a wife and kids to feed, a reputation to protect.”
Randy fixed him with a level stare. “Look, Jerry,” he said calmly, though his temperature had begun to rise, “money doesn’t make itself, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m an ex-con now. People aren’t exactly lining up to hire me.”
“Have you looked?” Jerry asked skeptically.
Randy’s hand sliced the air. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Jerry demanded, causing Randy to narrow his eyes dangerously at him.
“The point is,” he gritted, “that you agreed to help me, and you’d do good to keep your promises. You’re hands aren’t exactly clean here,” he reminded him. Sinking further into the comfortable cushions, he kicked his feet up on the glass top coffee table, earning a disapproving look from Jerry, who, wisely, kept his opinions to himself.
