Hair of the Dog by Gordon Carroll (reading strategies book TXT) 📗

“Yeah.”

“Was Ziggy with you?”

“No.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

“Let’s go check his room.” I used the extra key card and opened his door. On his desk, I found a note with very exact and eloquent handwriting propped on the lamp. It said that he’d made contact with Keisha’s cousin and that they were meeting at an apartment complex in the projects tonight at six o’clock. The woman knew all about why Keisha’s mom was killed, that it had something to do with the kingpin of the Bloods in Chicago, someone powerful. She knew who it was and was willing to talk for the right price. He said we needed to meet them at the listed address beneath.

“Sounds a little too perfect,” I said.

Jerome tapped the bottom of the note with one long finger. “That’s where I saw your guy’s men with the pimp and ho earlier. Same address.”

I nodded. “A trap.”

“A trap,” Jerome echoed.

“And Ziggy’s already in it.”

36

Sarah Gallager pulled her car over into the dirt about fifty yards from Gil’s house and sat there with the engine idling. She watched and waited, just as Gil had told her to do. The little Smith and Wesson .380 Body Guard rested in her lap, its tiny laser light turned off for now, but ready to go at the tap of a finger.

She didn’t see any cars near the house or the garage or on the way up. Everything looked perfectly quiet and peaceful, but Sarah knew all about Gil’s life and that there was very little peace and quiet involved.

Not that it mattered, she loved him, loved him like no one she had ever known and would do anything for him. She would die for him. More than that, she would kill for him. After all, he’d killed for her.

The thought brought back painful memories that she didn’t like revisiting. The Double Tap Rapist. A shiver worked its way down her back and she tasted bile at the rear of her throat.

Today’s snowflake women were all about the hashtag Me Too movement. The whole thing made her sick. It was like calling spanking child abuse. The concept alone stole the real meaning of the words, making the actual crime seem so much less than it was. What that man had done to her. With true effort, she pushed the memories away before she did throw up.

After a half hour, on the clock, just as she’d promised Gil, she got out of the car and made her way to the house. She checked for the small strip of scotch tape that stretched invisibly across the top edge of the doorframe and saw that it was undisturbed. Moving to the west, she systematically checked each door and window, finding them all securely protected by their strips of film.

She’d tried to get Gil to update his security system to real time camera access through his cell phone, but would he listen? Instead, he relied on what? Scotch tape? She shook her head and made her way back to the front door.

Sarah had forgone her usual high heels for a pair of light blue running shoes. Her running suit and headband matched, along with her fanny pack where she’d stowed the Body Guard with one extra magazine. She’d been caught once without a gun to match the strength, speed and ferocity of a bigger predator…never again. Gil had given her the gun after the incident. He’d taken her to the range thirty times and up here to his mountain, day after day, until she could shoot every target he placed, while on the move and from behind cover. Until she felt safe. Something she’d thought she would never feel again.

The key slid smoothly into the lock and the door opened without a hitch. Inside lay darkness and silence. Sarah eased the little gun, with its little hollow point bullets, out of the fanny pack and into her hand. In the side pocket, she had four heat sealable plastic evidence bags and a pair of ultra-thin cotton gloves.

For some reason, she decided to leave the lights off till she reached the kitchen, which she did without mishap, not knocking into a single piece of furniture. How many times had she imagined Gil lying, with her on the couch, watching TV, or just talking and talking, snug and secure in each others arms? She wanted him so badly. But she knew he still hurt and she could understand that. She did understand it. But he deserved happiness. She knew he didn’t believe that. Gil still blamed their deaths on himself. But it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but that horrible man.

In the trash container by the sink, she found what she was looking for right on top. Once she donned the cotton gloves, she placed the beer can into one of the bags and peeled the seam off and sealed the two edges together. Once she got to the lab, she would use her heat sealer to properly secure the plastic, but this would do to keep out contaminants for now.

Turning, she looked back into the living room and at the couch, across from the fireplace. She took in a deep breath, smelling him. She closed her eyes and let out the breath. She stayed there for several minutes before turning off the kitchen light and reversing her course through the house and back to her car. She still had some driving ahead of her. First to Aurora Police Department and then to her lab in downtown Denver.

37

Ziggy’s stash was getting low. He’d given Rockeeta more than he intended earlier, sort of a down payment, but the woman drove a hard bargain. The quarter baggy would hold him over for tonight and maybe most of tomorrow, but he’d need to find a hookup somewhere here without going near the Bloods. And that might prove harder than one would expect. Ziggy was a little shocked at the level the Bloods had taken over