Read Online The Wrong Side of Dead by Jordan Dane - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jordan Dane
Ads: Link
had enough time to lunge for cover. Jess felt intense heat at her back. It seared her exposed skin. For an instant, the grenade’s brilliant flash stole her night vision. Pinpricks of light assaulted her eyesight. Her ears rang, but she wouldn’t be as bad off as the men who had attacked her. They rolled on the ground with arms over their heads, moaning and dazed.
Although she wasn’t in great shape, Jess had to move. In no time, these men would recover. A crowd had already started to form. And onlookers gazed cautiously down from windows along the street, silhouettes eclipsed in light. Hunched over, she kept her head down and crept toward the first man. Covering up what she was doing, Jess kept her back to the crowd and searched for his wallet, only having time to take his driver’s license. She did the same with the smoker.
People had started to congregate, making a tightening circle around the men on the sidewalk. Now she’d have to improvise.
“What happened? Did anyone see anything?” she yelled. When no one pointed a finger at her, Jess took charge. She kept her head down and barked orders like she had a right. “Someone call 911. These men need help.”
She kept up the chatter until it stirred others to act and take over. In the confusion, she slipped deeper into the shadows and melded with the crowd. She made sure no one noticed, waiting long enough before she climbed behind the wheel of Seth’s blue monster and drove away.
She wasn’t worried about the two men implicating her. They’d never talk to the police. As soon as they recovered—only a matter of minutes—they’d be gone, leaving the cops nothing to investigate. And if anyone remembered a mysterious blue van parked down the block, or if they had read the tag, they’d only find the vehicle registered to Seth. Being in jail gave him an airtight alibi. But Jess knew she’d made an enemy of the smoking man. He’d left her no choice. And he had looked like a man with a long memory.
Her heavy breathing mixed with road noise and muffled in her head, a lingering reaction from the detonation. Streetlamps cast ribbons of sparse light through the windshield and painted the dark interior of the van. The scrolling glow gave her enough light to read the names of the men she’d pissed off.
The hired muscle, Sal Pinzolo, and the smoker, Nadir Beladi. With Sam’s help, she’d soon have more on these men. And maybe she’d be one step closer to finding Desiree, Harper’s best shot at discovering who had framed him for murder.
But she had one more stop to make before heading home—and she sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to it.
Outside Chicago
The Twilight Motel had seen better days, Jess thought as she sat in her van parked in the shadows.
The motel’s cinder-block walls were colored in mottled aqua—the owner must have scored a deal on cheap paint—and it had a boxy construction any child could have designed in crayon. The place was totally forgettable except for one thing. Someone got off on ceramic gnomes. Several stuck out from under overgrown hedges and near the office door. Their faces were chipped, and their leprechaun clothes had faded with the sun, but no amount of damage had deemed them unworthy.
“God, I hate gnomes,” she muttered. With an elbow propped on a door panel, she ran a finger along a scar over her eyebrow, an old habit.
Gnomes ranked top of the heap on the shudder scale, even above the imposed giddiness of a yellow smiley face. At one time, the elf-infested motel might have seen interstate traffic, but a new addition to the area changed that. A nuclear plant had taken residence down the street. She saw the lights of the large facility on the horizon. Some local businesses had moved out after the plant got up and running. Now the motel looked as if it barely supported itself.
A red flickering neon sign pulsed its message of vacancies available, one of the few indications the motel was even open. At this time of
Although she wasn’t in great shape, Jess had to move. In no time, these men would recover. A crowd had already started to form. And onlookers gazed cautiously down from windows along the street, silhouettes eclipsed in light. Hunched over, she kept her head down and crept toward the first man. Covering up what she was doing, Jess kept her back to the crowd and searched for his wallet, only having time to take his driver’s license. She did the same with the smoker.
People had started to congregate, making a tightening circle around the men on the sidewalk. Now she’d have to improvise.
“What happened? Did anyone see anything?” she yelled. When no one pointed a finger at her, Jess took charge. She kept her head down and barked orders like she had a right. “Someone call 911. These men need help.”
She kept up the chatter until it stirred others to act and take over. In the confusion, she slipped deeper into the shadows and melded with the crowd. She made sure no one noticed, waiting long enough before she climbed behind the wheel of Seth’s blue monster and drove away.
She wasn’t worried about the two men implicating her. They’d never talk to the police. As soon as they recovered—only a matter of minutes—they’d be gone, leaving the cops nothing to investigate. And if anyone remembered a mysterious blue van parked down the block, or if they had read the tag, they’d only find the vehicle registered to Seth. Being in jail gave him an airtight alibi. But Jess knew she’d made an enemy of the smoking man. He’d left her no choice. And he had looked like a man with a long memory.
Her heavy breathing mixed with road noise and muffled in her head, a lingering reaction from the detonation. Streetlamps cast ribbons of sparse light through the windshield and painted the dark interior of the van. The scrolling glow gave her enough light to read the names of the men she’d pissed off.
The hired muscle, Sal Pinzolo, and the smoker, Nadir Beladi. With Sam’s help, she’d soon have more on these men. And maybe she’d be one step closer to finding Desiree, Harper’s best shot at discovering who had framed him for murder.
But she had one more stop to make before heading home—and she sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to it.
Outside Chicago
The Twilight Motel had seen better days, Jess thought as she sat in her van parked in the shadows.
The motel’s cinder-block walls were colored in mottled aqua—the owner must have scored a deal on cheap paint—and it had a boxy construction any child could have designed in crayon. The place was totally forgettable except for one thing. Someone got off on ceramic gnomes. Several stuck out from under overgrown hedges and near the office door. Their faces were chipped, and their leprechaun clothes had faded with the sun, but no amount of damage had deemed them unworthy.
“God, I hate gnomes,” she muttered. With an elbow propped on a door panel, she ran a finger along a scar over her eyebrow, an old habit.
Gnomes ranked top of the heap on the shudder scale, even above the imposed giddiness of a yellow smiley face. At one time, the elf-infested motel might have seen interstate traffic, but a new addition to the area changed that. A nuclear plant had taken residence down the street. She saw the lights of the large facility on the horizon. Some local businesses had moved out after the plant got up and running. Now the motel looked as if it barely supported itself.
A red flickering neon sign pulsed its message of vacancies available, one of the few indications the motel was even open. At this time of
Similar Books
