Read Online Jack and Joe: Hunt for Jack Reacher Series (The Hunt for Jack Reacher Series Book 6) by Diane Capri - Free Book Online

entrance, I’d heard at least six more shots from inside. The music got louder the closer I slid. Ten yards away from the entrance, the wall of booze and stale cigarette smoke was still billowing out like an invisible, disgusting force field.
    Until the locals arrived, it appeared that I was the only cop on the scene, and I had nothing remotely close to the muscle and firepower the situation required.
    A wild-eyed man stood with his back glued to the wall just outside the open door, clearly too petrified to move. As I slid across the gaping doorway to him, the wall of booze-and-cigarette stench nearly knocked me over. Pounding music made quiet talk impossible, so I moved as close to him as I could get and leaned in to be heard.
    “What’s going on in there?” I shouted.
    “Some crazy dude had a fight with one of the girls. He started shooting. The owner and the bouncer shot back.” He shook his head rapidly from side to side. “It’s chaos, man. People screaming, bleeding. Girls crying. I was in the back and I ran out, but then the ice—”
    “The shooter. What’s the shooter’s name, do you know?”
    He shook his head rapidly again. “Never saw him before in my life.”
    “Who’s in charge here? The owner, the manager—you know his name?”
    “Owner’s Alvin. Him and kid, Junior, the bouncer, they been running The Lucky for years.” He ran a hand hard over his head, and his feet started to slide out from beneath him on the ice. He slapped his palm onto the wall again as if it might glue him upright. He kept his feet. “They usually take care of things pretty good,” he said, “but this dude’s some kind of whack-job.”
    “And the woman? Is she his wife or girlfriend?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe. Lotta strangers around here tonight on account of the road bein’ closed.” He tilted his chin toward the Interstate instead of peeling one of his hands away from the wall to point.
    I looked directly into his eyes. After a moment, he refocused on me. “I’m FBI Special Agent Kim Otto. What’s your name?”
    “Racine.”
    “Racine.” I patted his arm. “I’ve called the police, but the storm will slow them down. You know this place. Can you help me out?”
    “What, go back in there?” He shook his head violently from side to side, which moved his body away from the wall and caused his feet to slide again. When he’d twisted himself back into position, he said, “Are you crazy?”
    Right. Crazy. Yes. For sure.
    I took a deep breath. “Then can you at least stand here and keep everyone else outside? Don’t let anyone come in until the police arrive. Can I count on you to do that?”
    He didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. There was a fifty-fifty chance that he’d run as soon as my back was turned.
    “Any military inside tonight?”
    “Most nights some guys are here from Bird. Yeah, that’s likely.” Then he was shaking his head. “Maybe not, though. A night like this, they coulda been confined to base.”
    “If they’re here, would they be armed?” Even as I heard the hope in my voice, the answer was obvious. If there were soldiers inside with weapons, this thing would already have been handled.
    Racine shook his head. “Alvin don’t allow no guns inside. He says booze and guns are a bad combination.”
    Alvin was a smart guy.
    “Thanks.” I patted his arm again and nodded. “Remember. Nobody comes in except the police.”
    I turned away from him and faced the doorway. The last gunshots had been fired a couple of minutes ago. Maybe the shooting was over. I flashed my head around the doorjamb for a quick look inside.
    The only lights in the place were the pulsing red, blue, and green floodlights bathing the elevated stage near the center. Dancing poles, the stage. Not quite what I’d imagined when the truck stop deliverywoman brought my sandwich and wine three hours ago, but close enough.
    Beyond that, the interior was too dark to see much except for the thick, stinking