Racked (A Lt. Jack Daniels / Nicholas Colt mystery) Read Free Page B

whoever’s in charge outside, and I’ll let them know I’m a cop. You can take me with you instead of Molly. I know you don’t want to kill anyone. Nobody has seen your face, so it should be a clean getaway.”
    He looked at the back of Molly’s head some more. Thought about it some more. While he was doing that, I reached down and gently eased my revolver from the waistband of my jeans, the move hidden by the cases of beer.
    “All right,” he said. “I’m going to cut her loose.”
    He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, whipped it open with his thumb. The blade locked into place with an audible click. He started sawing through the inch or so of wadded- up tape between the shotgun barrel and Molly’s neck. As soon as the tie was severed, Molly collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll.
    And then the lights went out.



THE BAD GUY
    2:37 P.M.
    A n instant after Molly and I were separated, I lunged for the light switch on the wall by the doorway. I knew the bitch cop wasn’t going to let me go. I’d seen her reach her hand down. She was going for her gun.
    A sliver of light bled in from the barroom, enough for me to navigate by but not enough for Lieutenant Daniels of the Chicago Police Department to risk taking a shot. Not in such close quarters. If I’d been a mass murderer or something, she might have thought about it. But I wasn’t. I was just an armed robber wearing a Bugs Bunny mask. Small potatoes.
    I bolted into the barroom, killed some more lights, tripped over the guy lying on the floor as I rounded the corner and headed for the staircase. It took me a moment to get back up, and another moment to search for the loot bag I dropped. Then I sprinted as hard as I could.
    I didn’t think the cops could have gotten to Kelly’s that fast. I wanted to see for myself. I wanted to see without having to open the front door and peek out and maybe get riddled by a million or so bullets.
    I ran up the stairs, scampered into the billiards room, slammed the door shut and locked it. The street and the parking lot were clearly visible from the second floor window. No cops yet. Daniels had lied to me. Now I needed to get outside.
    The car I’d stolen for the job was parked on the side of the building. I could see it, directly below me, right behind another one. I’d left the engine running, so all I needed to do was get down there and climb in and speed away. Nobody had seen my face, and there was no way to connect me with the vehicle. The only thing between me and freedom was some old glass and a fifteen foot jump.
    It looked like this might work out after all.



THE PRIVATE EYE
    2:38 P.M.
    I duck-walked to the doorway, reached up and switched the light back on.
    “Take care of Molly,” Jack said. “I’m going after him.”
    “Wait. I know the layout of the place better than you do. Give me the gun, and I’ll go after him.”
    “Not going to happen. Anyway, he’s upstairs in the billiards room. I heard his footsteps, and then I heard the door slam.”
    “There’s a bunch of blind spots between here and there,” I said. “It would make more sense for me to—”
    “I’ll manage,” Jack said.
    She walked to the door, both hands on her gun, elbows straight and angled downward. She backed up against the jamb, turned and raised the revolver level with her eyes, swept the area outside the doorway and then proceeded into the barroom.
    “I’m okay,” Molly said. “Go help your friend.”
    She rose, took a couple of wobbly steps, and then sat down on a case of wine.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. I just need some fresh air. And a cigarette.”
    “I don’t think it would be very smart to walk outside right now.”
    “Whatever. My car’s parked in back, in the alcove outside the service door. He won’t go to that side of the building. It would be stupid. There’s nowhere to go. He’d be trapped.”
    “Just stay inside,” I said.
    “No offense, but I’m really tired of people telling me what