Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1) by Paul Heatley (book recommendations based on other books .txt) 📗

“I’ve got it.”

“We’re nearly done here. One last thing.”

“Shoot. Fast. I gotta go. He could wake up.”

“Eric has a task for you.”

“Oh?” Carly takes a draw to disguise the shake in her voice. This is unexpected.

“He’s in Fort Worth. He wants you to go to him.”

“Send me the details. I’ve gotta go now. I’ve been out here too long.”

She hangs up. The cigarette is barely smoked, still more than half left, but she stubs it out, flicks it to one side, then goes back inside. Her phone buzzes in her hand. It is the details, how to reach Eric. She hits ‘Mark As Read’ so it doesn’t show up on her screen, slips her phone and her pack of cigarettes back into her jacket pockets, then tiptoes back upstairs.

Ben is still sleeping. Carly is relieved to see this. She brushes her teeth, gargles mouthwash, then goes to wake him up.

19

Michael calls Harry around, to his home. Harry comes to the back door. “Let me take a guess what this is about,” he says.

“You’d probably be right,” Michael says.

They’re in the kitchen, take a seat at the table. Linda is already there. “You all right, Harry?”

“I’m good,” he says, leaning down, an arm around her, to kiss her on the cheek.

“How’s your girlfriend?” Linda says as he straightens back up.

Harry rolls his eyes, takes a seat. “Jesus Christ, I guess that depends on the day of the week.”

“We can talk personal lives later,” Michael says. “I didn’t call you here for pleasantries. We gotta talk business.”

Harry nods, serious. “The phone calls.”

Michael nods back, solemn. “The calls that saved that motherfucker’s life.”

“You should’ve taken his phone,” Linda says. “Could’ve looked for yourselves.”

“Didn’t foresee this as being the situation,” Michael says. “Thought we were gonna torture and waste the son of a bitch on the night. How we supposed to know someone was gonna tip him off?”

“All we know for certain,” Harry says, “is it wasn’t anyone present.” He circles his finger in the air, indicating the three of them sitting at the table.

Michael and Harry are lifelong friends. They trust each other, perhaps more than Michael trusts Linda. They love each other. They’re like brothers. They each know how the other thinks. Michael cannot conceive of Harry betraying him, and he knows that Harry feels the same.

“Ronald was with us when we found out about Anthony,” Michael says. “Plus, he’s old school as all hell. He wouldn’t do it.”

Harry nods along with this. “Peter wasn’t with us when the call came through.”

“Peter ain’t said where he was. You ask at the bar?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “And I was subtle about it. He wasn’t there.”

“Unless he was with a girl, only other place he would be is with his brother.”

“Bingo,” Harry says.

“You think it was his brother?” Linda says.

“It’s looking that way,” Michael says. He turns back to Harry, “Only thing is, you saw the look on Peter’s face. You know as soon as he left here after the last time, he went straight to see Steve. He would’ve questioned him.”

“I’m sure, but would he give him up?” Harry says.

“If Peter knew for certain? Yeah, I think he would, for sure. Peter’s loyalty is to us, it’s to our cause. It ain’t to his blood, especially not if his kin is a goddamn traitor.”

“You think that was his real name?” Harry says suddenly. “Anthony?”

“That’s what the chick told us it was,” Michael says. “But who the hell knows? Maybe she just said it that way ’cause she knew that’s what we’d be familiar with.”

“Yeah, well, whatever his name was, Anthony spent most of his time with Steve.”

“Dealing?” Linda says.

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Someone joins our ranks, they don’t just shoot straight to the top. They work their way up.”

“He seemed awful eager to climb fast, though,” Harry says.

“Mm.” Michael grunts, nods, remembering. “Didn’t think anything of it at the time. He was always asking questions. Just thought he was passionate about it all.”

“Me too, man,” Harry says, “me too. Son of a bitch fooled us all.”

Michael puts his elbows on the table. “But did he fool Steve? Did Steve know – that’s the damn question. The two of them spent a hell of a lot of time together. They got friendly. Maybe Steve already knew Anthony was a rat, and he was keeping his secret. Hell, he could’ve known he was involved with a spic, too, for all we know.”

“Steve’s heart ain’t ever been in this life,” Harry says, “not really. Never has been. He only sticks around ’cause his brother makes him. Could’ve been he was helping Anthony out, feeding him information, on the promise that Anthony would help him get out, get him a new life with his buddies in the FBI, get him into the program. We hadn’t got Anthony when we did, we could be looking at a court date sometime in our near future, and who’s that in the witness box? Skinny Steve Reid.”

The three are silent then, considering this.

Michael is the one to break it, saying what they all know to be true. “If Steve’s responsible – if he knew, if he made those calls, however far his complicity in it might go – then we’re gonna have to do somethin’ about it. Somethin’ about him.”

“It’s gonna break Peter’s heart,” Harry says.

“Peter’s gonna have to walk away from it,” Michael says. “Ain’t like we’d ask him to do it his own self. No, I wouldn’t ask him to get his brother’s blood on his hands like that, even if he is the race traitor who got us into this mess.”

A silence falls again, each of them contemplating their next move and the circumstances that brought them to this instance.

It is Linda who breaks the silence this time. “One thing that I keep wondering about,” she says, “is why he was undercover with y’all in the first place. Like, what was it he was hoping to find out?”

“Drugs,” Michael says.

“It’s always the drugs,”