Read Online On the Street Where You Die (Stanley Bentworth mysteries Book 1) by Al Stevens - Free Book Online Page A

bonds.
    I left the office and went to Ray’s. Bunny was there with a disappointed look on her face.
    “Where were you last night?” she said.
    “Sleeping off a fight.”
    “A fight?”
    “Yeah. A guy’s been pestering Amanda. Now he’s not.”
    “You look better than yesterday. Fighting must be better for you than drinking. I’ll get your breakfast.”
    She went into the kitchen and returned with the usual bacon, eggs, and all that.
    “You’re perfect, Bunny. I need a cholesterol fix.”
    “Thanks, Stan. You’re looking better too. So, what do you think? Want to get back together?”
    “Still thinking about it.”
    “I won’t mention it again,” she said. “I’m not used to rejection.”
    “It gets harder to take and more frequent as you get older,” I said before I could stop myself.
    She turned with a flip and left to take care of other customers. I ate alone, glad for the solitude. I had several things on my mind. What was I to do about Jeremy and the Gestapo twins? Would Vitole lay off Buford? Would Rodney’s illegal money transfer come back to haunt me? And, of course, there was Bunny. What was I going to do about Bunny?
    This pile of complications made looking for bail jumpers and cheating husbands feel like the good old days.

    I finished breakfast and went back to the office. I went into the inner office, sat in my chair, and dozed off.
    After a while Willa came to the door, “Somebody’s here to see you.”
    I came awake and sat forward. “Who?”
    “Bill Penrod.”
    I stood up and rubbed my eyes as Penrod came in.
    “Hello, Stan.”
    “Come in, Bill,” I said. “Sit down. Good to see you. What does Delbert Falls’s finest need this morning?”
    He looked at his watch. “It’s afternoon.”
    Bill had been my shift supervisor when I was in homicide. We were close friends and had worked well together, partnering on many cases. Sometimes he was primary, sometimes I was. We had a good closure rate, an unbeatable team. I was good at finding witnesses and suspects, and Bill was the interrogator. He could’ve wrangled a confession out of O.J. We were both good at finding clues and gathering information. Breaking up our team was the Lieutenant’s biggest mistake, although he would never admit it.
    He plopped in the chair in front of the desk. His bulk filled it up. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. Bill would have perspired at the North Pole.
    “Smoke in here?”
    “Yep.”
    “Can’t smoke in the squad room,” he said. “Have to go to a designated area outside. They should know what that costs the city in lost manpower. At any given time, half the shift’s out there.”
    “Shift happens.” I pushed the ash tray across to him. He lit a cigarette with the old Ronson lighter that I’d always coveted, snapped it shut, and took a drag.
    I said for the thousandth time, “If you ever quit smoking, I want that lighter.”
    He grunted and looked like he was enjoying the smoke. I wished I wasn’t trying to quit. I still had a couple in my pack. I lit one up. Just to be sociable.
    “We got a guy in custody says he talks only to you, Stan, He already lawyered up.”
    “Who is it?”
    “Buford Overbee.”
    Things just got more complicated. It looked like I might just earn out that ten grand retainer.
    “What did he do?”
    “We like him for a murder this morning. A retired fed named Mario Vitole. What can you tell us?”
    My mind was spinning at ten thousand revs per minute. What had gone wrong? Did Vitole fail to understand my warning? Did he really think we didn’t know he had been the blackmailer?
    “Not much. I did some work for Overbee not long ago.”
    “I know. I sent him to you. Some kind of vague missing person situation.”
    “Same guy.”
    “What was the case?”
    “I’m still on retainer with Overbee, Bill. I’ll have to talk to him before I can talk to you about that. But I don’t think my case is related to this.” A little white lie. They were