Chapter Eleven

  

Brack drove as fast as he could. There was just not a good way to make the hour drive from Carraway’s island home to the Pirate’s Cove any quicker. The only chance was running I-526 around the city. He’d had mixed results with it in the past and had the tickets to prove it. But now wasn’t the time to be worried about tickets. He pushed the Ram’s Hemi engine and the truck roared up to ninety miles an hour.

Using the hands-free feature, he dialed the Isle of Palms Chief of Police.

Chief Bates answered, “Hey Brack.”

Brack said, “The killer is at my bar.”

“What?”

“Paige just called me. I’m heading there now, but I’m too far away. You need to get over there now.”

“On my way.”

Blu said, “Push it, man!”

  

Riding shotgun in the pickup, Blu saw three Isle of Palms police cruisers parked in front of the Pirate’s Cove, lights flashing, when Pelton skidded to a stop behind the last one. They both jumped out of the truck, leaving the doors open, and took the stairs two at a time.

The Chief of Police met them at the top of the steps. “Hold up.”

They both stopped.

To Pelton, the Chief said, “Your employees are fine. So are your customers.” He wiped his head. “Well, most of them, anyway.”

Pelton said, “What do you mean, ‘most of them’?”

To no one in particular, the chief said, “You know, this used to be a peaceful island. Why just this morning, my big task was impounding an abandoned moped two doors down from here. Since Mr. Pelton took up residence, I’ve had to increase my personnel and add more units on patrol.” He shook his head as if done with his diatribe and turned to Blu. “I’m going to need you to wait outside.”

Blu didn’t argue. It wasn’t his bar and he wasn’t a witness. Two officers stood on the upper front porch to their right, one of them smoking.

Blu bummed a cigarette and lit up, saying “Thanks.” He took a deep drag.

The officer said, “So you’re the PI?”

“Yes.”

“You want to tell us what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Blu had the familiar feeling he was going to learn something.

The officer said, “We were commanded to drop what we were doing and head here. Only by the time we get here, some guy is already dead.”

“Already dead? You saw the body?”

“No, but the medical examiner was called. We’re supposed to let the chief know when he gets here. Apparently the guy drank a cup of coffee and just slumped over in his seat.”

The other officer said, “Yeah, I’d stay away from the joe.”

Blu took another drag and exhaled.

Pelton came out and walked over to him.

Blu said, “Everything okay?”

“Not exactly.”

“Let me guess,” Blu said. “Shooter number two is dead.”

“Good news travels fast.”

Blu said, “Did one of your waitresses blow his head off?”

“Nope.” Pelton took out a half-smoked cigar. “The guy just keeled over right in my bar.”

While he lit up, Blu said, “Well that’s convenient.”

Pelton took a drag off his stogie and exhaled. “The guy and his brother shoot up my bar. I kill one of them. We make a plan to catch the other one. And he ends up dying in my bar.”

“I’m betting this wasn’t of natural causes.”

“Ya think?” Pelton said. “We gotta find out what your pal Skip was into.”

“Or,” Blu said, “we could choose door number two.”

“Door number two?”

Blu said, “Yes. Door number two. The one that is already open and oh-so tempting.”

“Oh,” Pelton said. “You mean the one where this mess is nicely cleaned up. There’s no longer a stone-cold killer after me for seeing his face. And the link to why your friend was murdered has disappeared. That door?”

“Exactly.”

Pelton said, “Those two peckerwoods shot up my bar and almost killed me.”

“Collateral damage.”

“Still damage. And I’m pissed. So you can walk away, but I’m going to stick my nose in this one.”

Blu took another drag and exhaled. “Good. If I had been a few minutes earlier, you’d probably have had two customers as stiffs. Whatever Skip was into, he didn’t deserve to be gunned down.”

“So what’s our next move, old man?”

“Old man?”

“Older than me, anyway.” Pelton was smiling.

“And for a moment I was beginning to like you.” Blu took out his cell phone and scrolled through his call log.

Pelton asked, “Is that the phone with the big numbers?”

The kid was really asking for a beating. Blu would have loved a fancy smartphone, but his budget at the moment barely afforded the plan he had, much less an upgrade. He ignored the jab, found the number, and hit the call button.

After a few moments, Gladys answered. “Hi, Blu.”

A decade ago, Blu picked up a domestic abuse case. Gladys had heard of him through a friend of a friend and come to his home office to hire him. At the time, her husband was taking his frustrations out on her physically. Blu handled the case pro bono when he found out Gladys worked at the DMV, a very good contact to have. It wasn’t long before Blu caught her old man in the act. With so many hospital records of her injuries, the police didn’t look too hard into it when the bastard turned up dead with a kitchen knife stuck in his neck.

Gladys had been providing Blu information for his cases ever since without complaint, although lately she’d also began offering her opinion on things. It was this new stage in their working relationship that Blu could have done without. Still, the intel was worth dealing with Gladys’s quirks.

He said, “Hey, Gladys. Need a favor.”

Pelton watched him.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she said. “What have you got?”

“The name’s Abner Hollander. He just turned up dead.”

“What a shame.” She said it all monotone. “Give me an hour.”

“Thanks.” He ended the call.

Pelton said, “So you do have some sources. I thought I was going to have to carry you.”

“I’ve been at this a lot longer than you, sonny.”

And that was a true statement. Blu had already gotten the rundown from Gladys on Pelton. That was how he’d found out where he lived and tailed him. The kid had quite a few moving violations on him. And because she was apparently bored, Gladys had also provided a file of news reports on the kid she’d printed off the internet. Pelton had been in more scuffles and gunfights in the last two years than Blu had. The services Blu offered were unique and required unique circumstances. Not something that happened every day.

Pelton said, “I know you’ve been at this longer. I’m in the presence of a legend.”

Blu put a hand on Pelton’s shoulder. “Let’s get something straight. I think you deserve one big ass-whooping. But I need you vertical and coherent for what we’re about to do. Step over the line and I will drop you.”

The kid grinned at him. “Impressive vocabulary for a grunt.”

Blu had been serious about his threat, and figured Pelton knew he was serious. And the kid gives him this grin and sarcastic remark. He must be nuts.

While Blu was deciding what to say next, Pelton said, “I’m ready when you are, old man.”

Removing his hand, Blu said, “We’ve got an hour.”

Pelton said, “How about if I buy you a beverage of your choice while we wait?”