Read The Juan Doe Murders: A Smokey Brandon Thriller for Free Online Page A

looking over the bay when I came back. The inky bay was glossed with the cast light of local businesses along the coast. He stepped back in and sat at the counter and said, “C’mere,” tapping his leg.
    I did, and put my arms around his neck and whispered, “Thanks for Taz.”
    “Don’t mention it, lady.” He gave me a kiss, and just as it was getting interesting, he said, “You know, babe, I think I should call it a night.”
    “Already? You want a Tums or something?”
    “I think I’ll just go on home.”
    “Tomorrow night, then.”
    He paused, then said softly, “Hey, kid. You’re not neglecting your other friends for this old man, are you?”
    “In the first place,” I said, “I don’t know any old men. And in the second, no.” I got off his lap but stood close.
    His palm ran up and down my leg. “You know if you ever want to date someone else, it’s all right, don’t you?”
    I gave the leg of his stool a kick.
    He said, “Just making sure we covered that ground.”
    “We have. Before.”
    “Just so you know you’re a free agent.”
    “What about Boyd Russell?”
    “You want to date
him?
”
    “I’m
say
ing, you don’t like it that
he
sleeps around.”
    “He’s married. That’s the difference. I only want the best for you,” he said.
    “Then you’re wishing for what I already have.”
    He got up to go. “We have that wedding Saturday.”
    “Right,” I said. “Sunday I’m going on an Audubon cleanup. To help clear out invasive plants down along San Juan Creek. That’ll kill the morning, but you want to do something later?”
    “Boy, you sure plan far ahead.”
    “It’s because I haven’t had a weekend in so long it seems like a vacation.”
    At the door Joe said, “I’m supposed to go look at cars with David Sunday. He’s trading up. Old Dad here may have to be making the payments even though Dave says he got a raise at the bookstore. Did I tell you he’s working in the college bookstore? Stacking books.”
    “Right.”
    “I asked him if he was reading any. He says sure. Then he tells me a joke he read in one, which was not exactly what I had in mind.”
    “You going to keep it to yourself?”
    “Hm?”
    “The joke.”
    “It’s an Aggie joke. Texas Agricultural. Nerd-U,” he said. “So this Aggie was trying to light a match. The first one doesn’t work. He throws it away, tries another. That one doesn’t light either. Throws it away. Strikes a third. Poof! It fires. He blows it out, says, ‘That’s a good one. I gotta save it!’ ”
    “Oh moan.”
    “You asked.”
    I stood on the front balcony and watched him go to his car. A corner floodlight gave luster to his silver hair, and his brown leather jacket shone like rich mud as he walked and juggled his keys hand to hand.

FIVE

    I  had a training class the next morning at nine that had been set up six weeks before. There’d still be enough time to meet Ray Vega for a little pre-work plinking at a range that lets cops come in early. On the way, my cell phone rang.
    “Smokey, Ray,” he said.
    “How’d I know it would be you?”
    “I can’t make it this morning.”
    “You jerk,” I said.
    His voice gravelly, he said, “You never had a hard night?”
    “Plenty of ’em, but I don’t stand up my friends. You’re gettin’ old, Ray-boy.”
    “On that you may be right,” he said. “What the hell am I? Thirty-one, Jesus. I gotta snag some sleep. Hey, you ever get that gun you were going to?” I pictured him sitting on the side of his bed in his shorts, head in his hand, phone clamped to his ear.
    “Yeah, I bought it. Five-shot snubby. What’s it to ya? You can’t get your ass out of bed to come see.”
    He sighed or yawned again, and said, “That hurts.”
    “Cry me a river.”
    “I’m thinking of getting me a new backup,” he said. “What kind’d you say?”
    “I already told you.”
    “I mean, what
kind
.”
    “Smith Airweight. Spurless.”
    “Like it?”
    “Gun’s great.