Read The Debt Collector (Book 1 of a Jack Winchester Organized Crime Action Thriller) (Jack Winchester Vigilante Justice Thriller Series) for Free Online Page B

of the many things she loved about the town. She’d grown up in the area, and with so few people living there, everyone knew each other on a first name basis. People were warm, friendly, and would walk over coals to help you. The past few years had proven that. Tourists from the city visiting her motel would tell her they’d never come across a place like it. Where they came from, everyone owed everyone. Here, they took care of their own. Maybe that’s why she’d stuck around so long; that, and the fact that for families it was a great place to raise kids. Even if it had been a long time since she’d felt any sense of family.
    Stepping outside, she was greeted by a familiar voice.
    “Dana.”
    “Sheriff,” she replied.

    * * *
    I nside , Jack cleared each of the rooms on the ground level before making his way to the staircase. The first step creaked and he froze. Worn oak floors. Might as well have been an alarm bell ringing. He readied his gun and ascended. After several intense minutes of peering into each of the rooms, he tucked his weapon into the small of his back, satisfied that the house was empty. In the main bedroom, he picked up a photo frame. Inside it was Matt, the woman, and the kid standing in front of a newer motel sign. Their arms were wrapped around each other, painting a portrait of better days. The walls of the rooms looked freshly painted, and the neon sign fully worked. He checked the closet. Male clothes still hung inside.
    Entering the kid’s room, he put a hand to his nose. Its appearance resembled the typical teen room, as well as the odor. There was no masking the stench of old pizza laying on the bedside table. Still, it was a far cry from the cesspool he grew up in. Jack ran his fingers over the strings on a guitar and began routing through drawers. Under the bed he found a bong. He sniffed. It had been used recently.
    Where would you hide, a quarter of a million dollars? There is no way they would have banked that; it would have raised too many eyebrows. He himself would have kept it close. Somewhere where he could grab it and make a run for it, if push came to shove. Opening closet doors, rummaging through bags, running the tips of his fingers along ledges, he coughed as dust fell. He searched suitcases, boxes, bags, and the basement. Nothing. Where the fuck was it?
    Back on the landing, he pulled at a cord to the attic. Steel stairs clattered as they slid down. Climbing up into the darkness, the only light came from a large window at the far end, which illuminated the dust, covered boxes, and years of junk.
    Great, this was going to take forever.
    It smelled musty and historic, like an old vintage typewriter.
    At the sound of tires on gravel, he moved to the window.
    Shit, she’s back , he thought.
    He’d hoped it was going to be easy. In and out without anyone getting injured.

    * * *
    “ H ello ?”
    Strange. Dana could see a car, but there was no one around. She got closer to the car. As she did, she fell back on her ass, startled by a large dog barking at her. She trembled. She didn’t like this one bit.
    “Apollo.”
    A rough and gravelly voice came from the direction of the house. Cupping a hand to shield her eyes, she saw the silhouette of a large man coming down the steps.
    “Sorry about the dog; he’s actually harmless.”
    “Could have fooled me.”
    As he came into view, she stopped squinting. He was tall, broad, and had a sharp jawline with the perfect amount of stubble. His eyes were nearly as blue as his dog’s. She noted that for his age, he had a full head of hair: deep brown, thick enough to run fingers through. Holding his hand out, she took a hold, feeling his firm grip. He hauled her up as if she was a feather. She didn’t want to stare, but she found herself transfixed. Trying not to gawk, she brushed off the grit.
    “What were you doing up there?” she asked, almost forgetting her manners.
    “Oh, I wanted a room.”
    Her eyebrow arched with a good dose