Read Bright Futures: A Lew Fonesca Mystery (Lew Fonesca Novels) for Free Online Page A

won’t be able to,” said Ames, eyes fixed on Ronnie Gerall’s face.
    “He’ll do it, too,” I said.
    “Then he’ll be in here with me,” said Ronnie.
    “Is that where you want him? Respect means a great deal to Mr. McKinney.”
    The uniformed guard slouched a little more. He wasn’t interested in what we had to say.
    “You found Horvecki,” I said.
    “On the floor in the hallway. Definitely dead. Lots of blood on his face and shirt. Mouth open. I thought I saw someone in an open doorway on the right. Then I saw someone go out the window.”
    “And you followed him,” said Ames.
    “No. I mean yes. I went out the front door looking for him. Whoever it was was gone.”
    “You saw nobody?” I asked.
    “No . . . wait. There was a man in a pickup truck, but it wasn’t the one who was in the house. The guy in the pickup wasthere when I got to Horvecki’s. I thought he was waiting for somebody.”
    “Could he have seen the man who jumped out of the window?” I asked.
    “Could have? He would have had to,” said Ronnie.
    “Can you describe the man or the truck?” I asked.
    “It was a small pickup, not old, not new. Guy in the truck had on a baseball cap. Couldn’t see his face. I think he was black. Maybe. Couldn’t tell you how . . . Wait, I had the feeling he wasn’t an old guy like Stokes over here.”
    Ames did not take kindly to the remark, but he held his tongue.
    “And I don’t know how tall he was,” Ronnie went on. “He never got out of the truck. I only saw him for a few seconds.”
    “Did he look at you?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    “We’ll find him,” I said.
    I must not have filled the room with my infectious optimism, because Ronnie said, “You don’t believe me.”
    “No matter if we believe you,” said Ames. “It matters if we find him.”
    “What did you do after you went outside and didn’t see him?” I asked.
    “I went back in the house to be sure Horvecki was dead. Before I could call 911, I heard the door to the house open. Then a voice saying, ‘Throw your gun toward the door and stand up slowly with your hands high and your palms showing.’
    “I did. I was read my rights and arrested.”
    “Did you tell them about the person in the doorway and the man in the truck?” I asked.
    “I did. They didn’t believe me, either. I’m glad Horvecki’s dead, but I didn’t kill him.”
    “You have a lawyer?” I asked.
    “You’re not a lawyer?”
    “No,” I said.
    “Goddamn it!” he shouted loud enough to make the guard almost slump to the floor. “I’ll kill Greg when I get my hands on him.”
    “You really know the right things to say,” I said.
    “What the hell are you then?”
    “A process server,” I said. “And someone who finds missing people.”
    “Who the fuck is missing here?”
    “The person who shot Philip Horvecki,” said Ames, “provided that person is not you.”
    “And,” I added, “whoever might have been standing in the open doorway when you went into Horvecki’s house.”
    “Guard, get these two out of here,” said Ronnie. Then he turned to me and said, “I’ll get my own lawyer.”
    “Suits me,” said Ames rising.
    I got up, too. The guard was alert now.
    We got to the door. Then Ronnie Gerall said, “Wait.”
    I turned as the guard moved toward the prisoner.
    “I think the person in the doorway was a woman.”
    “Horvecki’s daughter?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    “Whoever it was might have seen the person who went through the window kill Horvecki,” I said.
    “Or might have been the person who killed Horvecki,” said Ames.
    “I’ve got no money, but I don’t want a public defender,” Ronnie said. It sounded like a challenge.
    “I’ll see what I can do,” I said.
    Ames and I went past the guard and into the corridor.
    “He’s scared,” Ames said.
    “He’s scared,” I agreed as we walked toward the thick metal door.
    “Full of hate,” Ames said.
    “Full of hate,” I