Read Online Big Goodbye, The by Michael Lister - Free Book Online Page A

saying more. “You think the same person killed Freddy?”
    “They were both beaten to death,” he said. “Ain’t somethin’ you see every day. Plus, they both got a connection to you.”
    “Pete,” I said, “you even entertaining the possibility I did this?”
    “How’d she get your card up her . . . you know, inside her?”
    I told them—about being here this morning, about giving her my card, and what she had done with it. The more I talked, the more worried Pete looked.
    “That don’t tell us why you was here,” Butch said. “Or who you was working for.”
    “I’m lookin’ for someone,” I said. “I thought Margie might know where the person is.”
    “Who?”
    I shook my head.
    Butch let out a harsh, humorless laugh and shook his head.
    “Did she?” Pete asked.
    “Said she didn’t, but I don’t know.”
    “And when you left, she was alive?”
    “When I left, she was naked and had just stuck my card inside herself, she was drinking a martini, and without even trying she was breathing in and out all on her own.”
    “Wonder what the guy was looking for?” Pete asked, then turning to me added, “Any ideas?”
    I shook my head. “Sorry I can’t be more help boys, but I didn’t have anything to do with it, so I don’t know anything.”
    Butch was rubbing his crooked nose with his index finger. He did that a lot when he wasn’t busy terrifying me.
    “What happened to you?” Butch asked. “Pete says you was a good cop. What made you so bent? You bitter—mad at the force ’cause you lost your arm and got canned? That it?”
    I didn’t say anything.
    “Withholding information from real cops is a crime,” he said.
    I still didn’t respond.
    “You better watch your step, gumshoe,” he said. “Just ’cause you maybe didn’t do this don’t mean you can’t go down for it.”
    I looked over at Pete. “Things have changed a lot since I left,” I said.
    “Not so much, Jimmy,” he said. “He’s just saying we know you know more than you’re telling us and we don’t like it none.”
    “Well, you don’t have to,” I said. “I wouldn’t like it either, and maybe I’s you I’d keep an eye on me, but I wouldn’t set up an innocent man, not if he was my worst enemy.”
    “Well,” Butch said, “that’s the difference in you and me, and I’s you, I’d keep that in mind.”

Chapter 14
    When we stepped out onto Margie’s porch, Butch waved one of the uniformed officers over. “Take Mr. Riley back into town for me, would you?”
    “I’ll do it.”
    We all turned to see Frank Howell, the current mayor and Harry’s opposition, walking toward us. A large man in every way, Howell was tall and thick bodied, his fleshy face tanned, the center of his cheeks pocked with acne scars.
    The yard was filled with Panama City Police and Bay County Sheriff’s Deputy’s cars, an ambulance, and a couple of reporters. Howell had stepped out of the crowd.
    Howell had an odd walk for such a large man. It was light-footed and feminine, and looked to be the walk of a former dancer.
    “Mr. Mayor,” Pete said. “We’ll take him. We didn’t mean—”
    He shook his large head. “I need to speak with Mr. Riley,” he said. “This’ll give us the chance.” He turned and looked at me. “That okay with you?”
    I nodded.
    “I would ask you boys what you’ve got in there and how it’s going,” Howell said, “but it’s out of my jurisdiction and I don’t want to appear to be overstepping my bounds.”
    As we talked, a cameraman with one of the reporters snapped our picture. I attempted to position myself so I could use Howell for cover, but the photographer just continued altering his angle.
    “Well, thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Pete said. “That will let us keep working our investigation.” He turned to me. “And Jimmy, don’t you worry about anything. We’ll get this all straightened out real soon.”
    As Howell and I walked away, the reporters shouted a couple of questions at us.