Read Online Fourth Victim by Reed Farrel Coleman - Free Book Online

doing.”
    “Blades? Getting kinda cozy there, aren’t you Bob?” “Drop it.”
    “It’s dropped. So your prick brother’s not going to help.” “Nope. Says he’s probably gonna prosecute the case when it comes in, so.”
    “I guess I can’t blame him.”
    “You can blame him, but it isn’t gonna do us any good. So you said something about a body shop …”
    “You know the one right across from the Kings Park Fire Department by Indian Head Road?” Joe asked.
    “I live about a mile away from it and my church is around the corner. Yeah, I know it: Noonan’s Collision.”
    “They’re guilty about something in there, but I’m not sure it’s got anything to do with the dead drivers. I mean it’s a fucking body shop, right? And they had a shitload of Hondas, Toyotas, and Escalades in their lot.”
    “Chopshop maybe, stolen parts you’re thinking? You know any totally clean body shops?”
    “What I know is that my being in there asking questions spooked the shit out of the blond and that the biker guy made me for a cop. I don’t think I should go back there. Might raise a red flag.”
    “Which means I should go?”
    “First maybe you should bring a box of donuts over to the fire house and make nice so you can sit across the street and see what’s what.”
    “I know how to make nice with the neighbors. Don’t worry. I’ll be on it first thing in the morning.”
    “Good,” Joe said, flipping through the tickets for Saturday delivery. “Looks like I’m gonna have to drive tomorrow. Busy day.”
    “Busy is good.”
    “After my brother died, busy is all I lived for.”
    “Tell me about it. After Mary died I used to go nuts looking for ways to fill up my days with something other than
General Hospital.
I looked for anything to occupy my thoughts.”
    They sat silently for a moment, both together and apart, remembering where their lives had been only several months ago. Men find it easy to drink and bullshit together, but silence is the real test of friendship between men.
    “So,” Healy said, “how about the other oil companies?”
    “I didn’t learn anything except about other people’s grief at Baseline. The business died with Cameron Wilkes, so there was nobody to talk to there. The guy who owned Armor didn’t seem too bent outta shape about Monaco, but who the fuck would be? I’ll talk to Tim Breen from Five Star next week or maybe I’ll go looking for him at Lugo’s tomorrow after work. And as far as Epsilon goes … That guy was looking for a way out even before this happened to his driver.”
    Bob Healy stood and stretched. “I’m going home, partner. Long day. You sure you can manage tomorrow without me?”
    “No problem. I’ll have one of the guys load my truck. I’ll take stops, route the trucks and then I’ll go out. I’ll have the calls forwarded to my cell and dispatch from the truck.”
    “Sounds good. Where you headed now?”
    “Monaco’s wake.”
    “That sucks.”
    “I don’t know. As popular as he was, it might just be me and him.”
    The wake was in some funeral parlor in Massapequa on Sunrise Highway somewhere. He was pretty sure he’d find his way, but the truth was that Serpe wasn’t in any fucking rush to get there. Fearless as a cop, or at least able to control his fears better than most, he dreaded the idea of running into any guys he’d known from the job. It was always awkward and never turned out good for Joe. In the end, they could never understand his testifying against his partner. To them, he was worse than a man like Healy. Sure they would consider Healy a rat, but his was a career decision. In their eyes, what Joe did by giving up his brother cop that way, was not only inexplicable, but unforgiveable. So Serpe had given up trying to explain that blind loyalty sometimes comes with a heavy price.
    Joe parked in the nearly empty lot behind the funeral home and breathed a sigh of relief. He’d already had a rough day and thought he deserved a