Dirty Deeds Read Free

themselves. That James was caught with a huge load of dope in a jet black Suburban didn't make sense if he was truly the top man.
    But it didn't change the facts. He was charged with some very sobering offenses, and the one hundred thousand dollar bond was a clear sign the feds were dead serious about this guy. Harry, of course, took it seriously as well. He didn't respond well to being parted from his cash or being forced to collect on collateral. Most of the time, he posted the bond and the defendant showed up. Everybody was happy, so to speak. Every once in awhile, though, a James McDonald situation popped up. Not good for anyone involved, except Louie. It's how she made a living.
    She fired up her computer and logged in to do a little background work on James and his family. An hour later, her pad full of notes, Louie leaned back in her chair. Interesting. Very, very interesting.
    Her chair squeaked as she stood. She opened the top drawer of her desk, took out her gun and tucked it into her shoulder holster. The dark blue jacket she slipped into was excellent for hiding the gun. In blue jeans and leather boots, her hair cut in a short, sporty style, she blended in well with the general population. She liked Spokane with its big city size and small town friendliness. Luxury cars and pickup trucks moved together through the streets of the city without drawing a second glance. A person could fish in the afternoon and attend the symphony the same night. It was a blue-jeans-to-velvet kind of town that suited her extremely well. She was born to be in this place.
    Bottom line: Louie liked it here and she liked her job. The profession had been thrown at her rather than one made from conscious choice, but sometimes things worked out very well in spite of everything. This was one of those instances. Five years ago, she would never have believed she'd end up a bail enforcement agent, let alone one of the top agents in the region. These days, she was offered more jobs than she could handle. Harry's always came first. Their relationship was much more than professional, and she for one was not about to forget it. Loyalty weighed heavy in her book.
    Dropping her small spiral notebook and pen into her pocket, she waved to Harry and headed out to the parking lot, off on the hunt for James McDonald. She figured twenty days was a cakewalk with this guy, and the extra five percent Harry promised was icing on the cake.
    Halfway to her car Louie heard a familiar rattle. She did an about-face and jogged over to where eighty-seven—year-old Meg English pushed a tired silver cart with a single paper sack in the bottom. Dressed in her familiar peach track suit, Meg could easily pass for a woman at least a decade or two younger. Today she wore a snappy pair of sunglasses, her always tidy hair in a single braid down her back.
    "Let me," Louie said as she eased the rickety cart from Meg's firm grasp.
    "Well, Miss Louise, thank you." Meg stepped aside and let Louie take control. She patted her hair with thin, slightly shaky hands and then straightened her zippered jacket. Her smile revealed even, white teeth.
    "I told you I'd take you for groceries, and you promised not to walk all the way to Rosauers again," Louie said, pushing the cart across the asphalt parking lot with Meg beside her
    "Now, Louise, that was indeed a fine offer, but if I let you take me in the car, how would I get my exercise? I don't want my bottom to get as big as a balloon. I've seen what women my age look like when they get too soft."
    Fat chance. Louie laughed and shook her head. "Like that's really going to happen to you."
    Meg pursed her lips, her face serious even though her deep brown eyes twinkled. "It will if I get lazy." She lifted her chin.
    Not only was Meg the most energetic octogenarian Louie ever met, she was as thin as a rail with a bottom that would never in a million years be mistaken for a balloon. At a whopping five foot three, if she stood very tall, Meg