Read Online Caged Love: MMA Contemporary Suspense (Book One) by Liberty Thunderbolt, Zac Robinson - Free Book Online
Authors: Liberty Thunderbolt, Zac Robinson
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good and stabbed in the leg. It seemed he got away for a spell. He made it a hundred yards or so before collapsing.
After that it looked as if one of his killers stayed back a few steps while the other choked Ray to death with a belt. Oddly enough, the man who stayed back a few feet had been shuffling his feet backwards.
Nick Maris and Ray Richardson didn’t seem to have much in common. They were about the same age and physically imposing, but didn’t run in the same circles. It wasn’t the victims, but the way they had been killed that got Westingham thinking. Obviously they’d both been killed by two strong men who liked to pull their chairs right up to death’s table and dig in. They were both strangled and they weren’t found too far apart. Not a lot of similarities, but enough that it tickled Westingham’s brain.
He compared both crime scenes and came up cold. Raydell wasn’t driving a car like Nick Maris was. The killers apparently drove him to his death. The same shoe print was found at each scene, and that was a thin thread that tied the murders together. Unfortunately it was the only thread.
Westingham noted to look for any connections at all between Maris and Richardson. Even a sliver might lead to these two unknown killers. That is if there were just two killers and not four.
Chapter 13
T wo weeks after Courage and Heart Fighting Championships Bretten was mostly healed. He’d spent the last week training hard, like a lackadaisical college student who crams because he is smashed in the face with the reality that semester exams are in three short days.
No more time to cram. Bretten’s beat up Chrysler Le Baron whizzed past a large wooden sign that read in faded letters: Enid Home of Vance Air Force Base. He glanced to his right and said, “2714 East Grand right?”
Just beyond the sign, the road rose from the ground to make way for trains. The Chrysler crested the overpass and the flat landscape of Enid came into view. Rodrigo said, “Yep, 2714. Our new town, bro.”
On the way up from Oklahoma City, where Bretten picked Rodrigo up the night before, Bretten told Rodrigo about his brother, Nick. It had been almost half a year, but it was still hard to talk about. Bretten’s mom had told him that the detective called to say the case was still open, but he wasn’t hopeful. Bretten wanted the killers found, wanted to confront them and throttle them like he throttled Bobby Baker and the others.
Rodrigo listened like he’d been Bretten’s friend for much longer than a couple weeks. He didn’t ask questions and when the time was right he simply said, “I’m sorry.”
Bretten could tell he meant it, and he appreciated it. He thought of this opportunity and wondered if it would give him a chance to start getting over his brother’s murder. If he could train at a topnotch school then maybe he could really make a go of this mixed martial arts thing.
Now with the Chrysler on the down slope of the overpass Rodrigo continued. “Hope they’ve got some good eats. I’m starving.”
“I might be too nervous for food,” Bretten said, “but Whit told us to be there at eleven. We’ve got almost an hour.”
“I doubt we will have to train today, probably just get settled, but if we do train we don’t want full stomachs...what am I saying, let’s eat,” Rodrigo said.
They headed north on Van Buren and came to what appeared to be another main street, Owen K. Garriot. “It says we go straight for four more lights then make a right, three blocks and we can’t miss it.”
On the way they spotted a Taco Mayo and whipped into the parking lot.
Thirty minutes later the full-bellied fighters circled around a ramshackle old building. If the strip mall that housed Marshall’s Tavern in Las Vegas had seen its glory days in the 80s, this place was easily its grandfather. The structure was erected long before the term strip mall became part of the vernacular.
In the 50s it had probably been a bustling
After that it looked as if one of his killers stayed back a few steps while the other choked Ray to death with a belt. Oddly enough, the man who stayed back a few feet had been shuffling his feet backwards.
Nick Maris and Ray Richardson didn’t seem to have much in common. They were about the same age and physically imposing, but didn’t run in the same circles. It wasn’t the victims, but the way they had been killed that got Westingham thinking. Obviously they’d both been killed by two strong men who liked to pull their chairs right up to death’s table and dig in. They were both strangled and they weren’t found too far apart. Not a lot of similarities, but enough that it tickled Westingham’s brain.
He compared both crime scenes and came up cold. Raydell wasn’t driving a car like Nick Maris was. The killers apparently drove him to his death. The same shoe print was found at each scene, and that was a thin thread that tied the murders together. Unfortunately it was the only thread.
Westingham noted to look for any connections at all between Maris and Richardson. Even a sliver might lead to these two unknown killers. That is if there were just two killers and not four.
Chapter 13
T wo weeks after Courage and Heart Fighting Championships Bretten was mostly healed. He’d spent the last week training hard, like a lackadaisical college student who crams because he is smashed in the face with the reality that semester exams are in three short days.
No more time to cram. Bretten’s beat up Chrysler Le Baron whizzed past a large wooden sign that read in faded letters: Enid Home of Vance Air Force Base. He glanced to his right and said, “2714 East Grand right?”
Just beyond the sign, the road rose from the ground to make way for trains. The Chrysler crested the overpass and the flat landscape of Enid came into view. Rodrigo said, “Yep, 2714. Our new town, bro.”
On the way up from Oklahoma City, where Bretten picked Rodrigo up the night before, Bretten told Rodrigo about his brother, Nick. It had been almost half a year, but it was still hard to talk about. Bretten’s mom had told him that the detective called to say the case was still open, but he wasn’t hopeful. Bretten wanted the killers found, wanted to confront them and throttle them like he throttled Bobby Baker and the others.
Rodrigo listened like he’d been Bretten’s friend for much longer than a couple weeks. He didn’t ask questions and when the time was right he simply said, “I’m sorry.”
Bretten could tell he meant it, and he appreciated it. He thought of this opportunity and wondered if it would give him a chance to start getting over his brother’s murder. If he could train at a topnotch school then maybe he could really make a go of this mixed martial arts thing.
Now with the Chrysler on the down slope of the overpass Rodrigo continued. “Hope they’ve got some good eats. I’m starving.”
“I might be too nervous for food,” Bretten said, “but Whit told us to be there at eleven. We’ve got almost an hour.”
“I doubt we will have to train today, probably just get settled, but if we do train we don’t want full stomachs...what am I saying, let’s eat,” Rodrigo said.
They headed north on Van Buren and came to what appeared to be another main street, Owen K. Garriot. “It says we go straight for four more lights then make a right, three blocks and we can’t miss it.”
On the way they spotted a Taco Mayo and whipped into the parking lot.
Thirty minutes later the full-bellied fighters circled around a ramshackle old building. If the strip mall that housed Marshall’s Tavern in Las Vegas had seen its glory days in the 80s, this place was easily its grandfather. The structure was erected long before the term strip mall became part of the vernacular.
In the 50s it had probably been a bustling
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