Read Online Pawnbroker: A Thriller by Jerry Hatchett - Free Book Online Page B

gold.
    “Yeah, I like it here. At least I have until now.”
    “There are bad guys everywhere, Gray. And we’re going to nail these. Then you can go back to loving it.” She smiled.
    “I hope you’re right. So, what’s it like, working for Lucas?”
    “Not bad. Pay’s good, work isn’t too hard and usually not dangerous. Lucas is a shallow, self-absorbed, womanizing prick, but there are some good people that work there too.”
    “And he is a good lawyer, right?”
    “No, he’s not a good lawyer. He’s an awesome lawyer. Now that he’s committed to your case, he’ll do a great job.”
    “And you’re sure he’s committed?”
    She chuckled. “He’s not dreaming of putting his marriage at risk. His wife’s maiden name is Sheffield, by the way.”
    “What’s the connection?”
    “Roy Sheffield is the founding partner. And Mrs. Lucas Benton’s father.” She winked.
    “Oh, I see.”
    “Right. Our boy Luke is fully onboard. How much farther?”
    “Next road to the right.”
    She slowed and turned onto the narrow, unmarked road that wound through a thick patch of woods, then broke through into another open area.
    “See that big house up on the left?” I said, just as its white columns came into view.
    “More like an antebellum mansion. It’s gorgeous.”
    “Yeah, pretty nice, huh? Take the second driveway and follow it around to the back.”
    The house really was an antebellum mansion, one that had fallen into disrepair and stayed that way for twenty years before the current owner picked it up in an auction and spent years refurbishing it. Tucked away behind the house was a newish metal building, maybe fifty feet square. We pulled up in front of it and got out. I knocked on the door and smiled at the little camera mounted above it. The door lock buzzed and we stepped inside.

 
    Chapter 27
     
     
     
    LEE COUNTY COURTHOUSE
    TUPELO, MISSISSIPPI
     
    Bobby Knight sat on a bench outside the courtroom, waiting for the call to testify, trying to prepare himself. He just couldn’t focus on it anymore. Hell, he couldn’t focus on anything. The pain was back in the top of his stomach, a weird combination of dull and sharp, and the Pepto had stopped working weeks ago. All it did now was turn his shit black.
    Chrissakes, he became a policeman to enforce the law, not break it. He pulled out his wallet and looked at his rookie photo, dressed in his new blue uniform, shining like a new penny and grinning like a school kid. It seemed like another lifetime.
    He remembered the day he found out he’d made detective. Man, he was on track then. World by the tail. Good wife. Beautiful baby boy, Robert Matthew Knight, III, carrying on the name, the bloodline, and when he was old enough, the tradition. Just like his father and grandfather.
    Now his boy was six years old, snaggle-toothed but still beautiful as all get-out. But exactly what tradition would he be carrying on with his father as an example? Corruption? Graft? Conspiracy? And that wasn’t even touching the mess he’d made of his personal life, the abandonment of his morals, the things he had done and was still doing that hurt others.
    Bobby knew that many people had a hard time figuring out how things went so wrong. It’s as if their eyes pop open one day and their world is falling apart with no memory of how they got there. Not Bobby. He knew exactly how he got to this sorry state. Getting partnered with Tommy Mitchell was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Mitchell was a slime, and like a dumbass he’d let himself fall right in with him. Easy money, Mitchell said. Nothing to it. No chance of getting caught and nobody gets hurt. Tell that to Homestead.
    He heard an elevator ding from around the corner, then footsteps slapping down the hallway.
    “What’d you find—” he was saying when Mitchell walked up, until he looked up and saw him. “Jesus, what happened to you?” Mitchell’s lip was swollen and a large Band-Aid covered his