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Chapter Ten
Gorevoy's face darkened.
“He would know all right.”Jerry brought the coffee over, handed one to Gorevoy, and with the second cup, he sat down. He stared at Gorevoy for some time, hesitating. He hadn't missed the tightness in Gorevoy's voice.“Gorevoy, sometimes I wonder if Jamie wasn't behind the whole set-up. It was too glib that only you got implicated, and who gained most from it? Jamie!”Gorevoy said nothing, but Jerry who was watching him saw the muscles of his face twitch. He took a sip from his cup.“Things aren't the same way they used to be before you went in, Gorevoy... a lot has changed.”The corners of Gorevoy's mouth twisted into a sour smile. Looking at the old man was enough confirmation that a lot indeed had changed.Ten years ago, he had met Jerry at a cocktail party hosted by a man up the food chain in the drug business. The two had got talking. Jerry had taken a liking to him. After the partyRelated chapters
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Eleven
It was his luck that as the traffic lights stopped him at an intersection leading onto Rico's apartment; he saw the Lincoln shoot out from a corner with the stream of traffic traveling down the avenue.He recognized it as Rico's, and immediately; he stamped on his brakes, engaged gear, maneuvered the compact car into the moving line of traffic, turning into the avenue, and went after the Lincoln.He parked the car in one of the empty bays in the enormous courtyard of the Miami International Airport, a good hundred yards from the Lincoln. He saw Rico get out of the car but remained in his.It wasn't long before he saw Rico returning to the car, a traveling bag in his hand, a woman by his side; a woman which he guessed would be his wife.He regarded the woman with professional interest. A beauty, he thought, and with a body as sensationally built as hers, he was well damn sure that one look of invitation from those whorish eyes would send fresh blood running down t
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Twelve
As Rico settled himself in the driver’s seat, Natasha asked, “Why are you the one driving today? What about Pascal?”“Developing feelings for him?” Rico said as he thumbed in the start button. “Well, a loving husband has taken his responsibility, today. Anything wrong with that?”“No... I'm just wondering how loving this husband is.” Natasha replied as they drove out of the airport. Halfway down the road, Rico glanced at her. She hadn't spoken since they left the airport. She appeared to be staring, lost in thought, through the windshield. The lines of exhaustion on her forehead and the dark rings under her eyes made it clear to him she lacked sleep and had a lot of thoughts running through her mind.But what could it be? Certainly not the loss of the old woman, for he knew no mother and daughter relationship existed between the two. She hadn't even bothered to tell him a thing about her. The only time he had
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Thirteen
Gorevoy watched the Lincoln through the windshield, as it swung into the street, and came to a stop in front of the condominium. Rico and his wife got out, then he took out the traveling bag from the back seat of the car. They paused at the entrance to the building for Rico to answer a call. After the call, he saw Rico draw his wife close to him, whisper something in her ear, then in one swift movement that wasn't lost to his trained and alert eyes, Rico transferred something from the pocket of his overcoat to hers. A gun!He smiled his crooked smile. He guessed Pascal's body had been discovered, and now; Rico was giving his wife the weapon of Pascal’s death to get rid of. So, when Rico got back into his car and drove off, Gorevoy remained still to see what she would do.…A five-minute fast drive through the back street and alleys of downtown Miami brought Rico to the agency. He parked his car in one of the bays in the big compound and got out.A sh
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Fourteen
“Whose?”“Yours.”Rico stiffened for a moment. He remained motionless as his mind worked swiftly, then he smiled; a smile that could almost pass for a grimace.“The killer should be smart enough to know that I have half this city's police force in my pocket. They wouldn’t touch me for a clumsy frame-up like this.” He crossed to where Cain stood. He took the case from him, examined it, and rolled it between his fingers, his mind working.“What do you suggest we do with the body, Mr. Rico? Mario's still in our debt. This is just right up his alley. He could clean this up, while we later hunt down Pascal's killer.”“What if that is exactly what the killer wants us to do? For me, I see a man who wants to get rid of another man but doesn't want to be landed with a body. So what does he do? He pushes his dirty work to me.” He paused, then asked abruptly, &ldqu
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Fifteen
Rico rapped on the door to Pascal's apartment, then thumbed the bull push. He listened to the distant sound of the bell. There was a brief delay, then he heard the thud of naked feet approach.“Who is it?” A woman's voice came from the flat.“Jamie,” Rico returned.He heard the door chain slid back, then the door opened. Rose Alison appeared in the doorway. She smiled at him, but he could see it wasn't an easy smile. Then she stepped aside and motioned him into the room.“Come in,” she said.She was dark, with brunette wavy hair. Her body was pleasantly thick with provocative curves, her dark eyes, which were usually alive with energy, showed she was nervous.She usually visited Pascal twice a week and stayed over on weekends, but today was a weekday and her day off. So, she had come prepared, with her plans; a long list of unspeakable things to do to Pascal.Rico could see the outline of her heavy breast with its hard nipple pointing straight at him from under
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Sixteen
Natasha sat tensely on one armchair in the sitting room. She had only taken off her coat. Her hand rested on the gun on her lap, while her mind busied itself. A sudden noise from the front door brought her alert. Her fingers closed over the butt of the gun and as she stood up, the door lock clicked.Moving quickly, she tiptoed across the room and peered into the foyer. Seeing Rico, she relaxed and brought down the gun.As Rico edged into the foyer, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took out the phone, sighed as he saw the name of the caller. It was Lieutenant James Hamilton of the Homicide Bureau. He answered the call. A hard, metallic voice attempting to be respectful came up.“Mr. Rico?”“Yes. This is me.”“Could you please pay us a visit at the headquarters?” There was a moment's pause. Rico felt he could hear the uneasy breathing of the man at the other end of the line. Then, the voice added, “When comin
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Seventeen
The desk Sergeant, Harry Renick, was making movements with a pen in his mouth. Bored, he stared sightlessly; at the screen before him. He was a thickset, middle-aged man, with close-set eyes. A man who had lasted some five years on this desk job, and who promotion seemed to be far from.His face brightened as he saw Rico.“Good day, Mr. Jamie,” he said, as Rico came to rest at his desk.For the man who sends the whole police lot, a turkey, and a bottle of whiskey on Thanksgiving Day, his demeanor switched to the quiet, deferential manner; of an up-and-coming lawyer dealing with a prospective wealthy client.“So sorry about your driver... Lieutenant James is expecting you. First floor, second door.”Rico nodded, walked up the stairs to a door, knocked, turned the handle, and walked in.Lieutenant James Hamilton, a tall, slightly built man of over forty years of age, sat behind a small shabby desk; in a small, shabbier room. Two pl
Money Ain't Loyal Chapter Eighteen
Alfred Cain unlocked the door to his three-bedroom apartment, moved into the living room, and looked around at its luxury. He had lived in this apartment now for the past eight years and had gotten used to its luxury. Despite that, each time he stopped to inspect it, it didn't stop to remind him of how far he had come.From a kid who starved, working construction jobs, if he could find any, a dry crust of bread a day, would mean he was lucky. His mother had died of starvation.Looking around, he confirmed that this was all he had ever dreamed of as a kid. Too much money, every conceivable luxury within his grasp, plenty of women. Though he cared less about the women, he confessed to himself that they were the best form of relaxation; God ever made for men.He took off his coat, loosened his tie, and dropped his .38 automatic on the table, then moving over to a nearby window, he sat down on an armchair.His apartment was on the thirtieth floor of a fifty-floor hig
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