Read Online Dying to Know by T. J. O'Connor - Free Book Online Page B

Alive-me had wit.
    One of his bodyguards stepped in front of me and blocked
    my view.
    Nic said, “No, Detective. I’m a collector. Those are family
    heirlooms—the pieces are 1881 Twenty-dollar gold pieces—
    without mint markings. They are very, very rare and valuable.”
    “You’re missing a few.”
    Nic stood up. “Good day, Detective.”
    When Bear and Alive-me were gone, I was surprised that I
    didn’t follow them or evaporate into nothing again. Instead, I
    stayed behind, standing in Poor Nic’s great room. I felt locked
    inside as though the memory held me tight. That rattled me. But
    hey, what was this old gangster going to do, kill me?
    Actual y, he did something much, much better.
    He picked up his phone and dialed.
    When I was here the first time—alive—I left with Bear. What
    was happening could not be from memories. Bear and I left to-
    gether. I didn’t stay behind eavesdropping on the phone cal as I
    was now.
    I liked this part of being dead. It didn’t require a warrant.
    “It’s me,” Poor Nic said, jabbing a finger toward the door that
    sent his two bodyguards from the room. “Frederick County’s fin-
    73
    est just left. Get your sorry ass down here and bring your list of friends. We have an appointment with them you have to cancel.”
    Okay, so being here was cool, but it had its limits. I could not
    hear the other half of Nic’s conversation. Maybe Doc would show
    me the Texas-two-phone later. For now, it was frustrating. I failed to watch Poor Nic dial the phone so I had no clue what number
    he called.
    Lesson learned.
    Poor Nic went on. “I don’t give a damn. Tyler made promises
    and I expect him to keep them. Now get down here.”
    He began nodding and cursing—more the latter. When he
    laid the phone down, his face was tight and angry. He rolled his
    good luck coin in his fingers and tossed it in the air, deftly catching it. Then he laughed and slapped it down on the desk beside
    his phone. He turned in his chair, striking a pose of heavy
    thought. He closed his eyes and began mumbling.
    I studied the coin and tried to make out the engravings on its
    face. It was thick and heavy and looked like solid gold. It had to be an antique or perhaps something rarer—perhaps one of the
    twenty-dollar pieces from his display case. Whatever the coin
    was, it didn’t flash any memory or turn on warning lights. So, for now, it was just a gold coin.
    I reached out to touch it but Poor Nic spun in his chair and
    slapped his hand atop it. His eyes flared and darted around the
    room in freeze-frame snapshots as though searching for a spy
    laying in wait.
    Kaboom— I left into nothing.
    74
    thirteen
    I landed in the Frederick County Detective Squad room on the
    outskirts of Winchester. Bear was there, too, sitting at his desk
    rummaging through a stack of files and plastic evidence bags.
    For more than a decade, I sat opposite him. I’d witnessed that
    big ugly mug happy and sad, asleep and pumped on adrenaline,
    and even so angry he’d overturned his desk. Bear could have a
    rather broad-brush stroke of emotions at times. Now, though, I
    was looking at a man I hadn’t seen before. His face was dull and
    eyes bloodshot. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty from wear-
    ing them more than thirty-six hours. His hair was uncombed, his
    shirtsleeves rolled up at different heights, and his tie was undone and dangling from his neck. General y, he looked like shit.
    “Cheer up, Bear,” I said, slumping into my chair across from
    him. “I may be dead, but I’m not gone. But, there are a few things we need to talk about first. I don’t like your secrets, pal. After that, I’ll help you solve this case.”
    75
    He rubbed his eyes. Then, he opened a large flex-file on his
    desk and dumped the contents out, sorting through the items
    one-by-one. Inside were a pen and some loose change, a pocket-
    knife, assorted pieces of paper, and a white envelope. He pulled
    out a notepad and began making an