Read Online Seven Wonders by Adam Christopher - Free Book Online

mugshots, arranged in a tiled display. Sam had stacked files on a dozen recorded criminals. Joe couldn't see any connection in the collection of faces − black, white, Asian, all male, some young, most old.
      "I ran a new keyword search," she said. "Check it out."
      "You think one of these could be the Cowl?"
      Sam smiled. "You bet. Here, listen."
      Joe leaned forward, eyes on the screen. It was going to be a long night.

CHAPTER SIX
     
 
    Tony remembered the night he met her.
      He remembered looking around the bar, and saying to Bill: "This was a bad idea." Bill was sitting on his left, his smile a mile wide. Clearly he wasn't letting Tony's negativity ruin a night on the tiles, and Tony watched as Bill's head bounced a little to the music even as he shook it in despair at his friend's attitude. Bill swigged his beer then breathed malt-toned bubble-air into Tony's face. Tony tried not to react, but moved his own glass a little farther away from his chin, which was practically on the bar anyway. He knew he was being a killjoy in a club full of happy people, but part of him liked the fact that he was being contrary. The other half of him felt bad for Bill, who was making a superheroic effort to cheer him up.
      "Lighten up, bro," Bill said. "And drink up. You've been nursing that glass for an hour. What the hell is it, anyway?"
      Tony pulled the glass in and sniffed it, reminding himself but also making a show that this really wasn't his scene.
      "Gin and tonic. Too much gin."
      Another disbelieving shake of the head, another swig of beer. Bill drained the bottle and waggled it between two fingers in Tony's face.
      "Gin and tonic? Who the hell drinks gin and tonic?"
      "I drink gin and tonic, Bill."
      "Yeah except you're not tonight, are you? Or do you wait for it to evaporate from the glass and breathe it in?"
      This Tony smiled at, and in defeat he took a sip. He didn't go out much – didn't go out at all, truth be told – and he'd forgotten that bar staff sometimes didn't quite understand the complexities of alcohol beyond beer, Southern Comfort, and whatever cocktail with sexually explicit moniker was popular among the underage drinkers this month.
      "Screw you," said Bill, slapping the bar and sending his empty bottle rocking. "I see ladies of a female persuasion. See you in a bit." Bill's fourth/fifth/sixth beer arrived in his hand, ice-cold beads running into his fingers. He patted Tony slightly too hard on the shoulder, and casually sauntered away, taking an elliptical course that looked natural but would eventually lead him to the other side of the dance floor where two girls were doing their best to look like high school jailbait. Tony's eyes followed his friend's progress, and he craned his neck around as he refused to shift his quite comfortable arm from where it was supporting him on the black glass of the bar top.
      "Huh," came the voice from behind Tony's back, to his right. "Bill is such a dick."
      Tony laughed and dragged himself upright. He swallowed some more G 'n' T, clacked the glass down onto the bar and turned to his other work colleague, Nate.
      "Ain't that the truth."
      Actually, Nate was more than just a nine-to-five work colleague. Tony had been at the Big Deal for four years and had been avoiding making friends there from almost day one. Work wasn't a place for friends, work was work, it just "was". But four years in shit-pay retail is practically a lifetime, and Tony, Bill and Nate had accidentally found themselves the most senior floor staff in the local store's history. But while Tony and Nate tolerated Bill, there was still a slight, almost uncomfortable distance between them and him, as apart from their shared experience of selling computer junk to soccer moms, they had very little in common.
      Tony and Nate, on the other hand, were firm friends. Kindred spirits, battling the oppressive corporate world, talking about music and books and