| |
It was in the Boethe Street IGA, a small run-down shack of a grocery store in the worst part of town, where Glen saw Lou Moore again for the first time in years. The man had once been Glen’s cell mate. A weak asshole of a man who’d first tried to push Glen around. Just to prove what a tough asshole he was.
That had lasted two days. Until Glen made it clear that he would not tolerate some former TSP detective and his cronies pushing him around like that.
Glen recognized Lou immediately. The other man hadn’t changed much. Gotten older. Fatter. Even uglier, if possible.
He didn’t understand how a dog-ugly bastard like Lou Moore could have a pretty daughter like that little TSP girl who had been all over the news four months ago. Unless Moore’s wife had screwed around on him or something.
Even though Glen had still been in the last few weeks of his sentence at the time, he’d followed what had happened to that girl very closely. It had been hard not to sit back and enjoy the show.
Lou Moore, big shot TSP asshole, who’d acted like Glen was such a loser once, had nearly killed his own daughter. Because of that sadistic bastard Pete Holte.
Now there had been an asshole evil enough to even scare Glen.
Holte had been no one to mess with, and he’d protected Lou and Jennson for some strange reason.
No one had messed with the three former cops in that block. No one.
Not even Glen.
But Pete Holte and Shawn Jennson were dead now.
It was just Lou.
And Glen had a score to settle with the man. Time for some payback.
“Hey, Lou...how’s that pretty little daughter of yours?”