Silver Lining - A Carpelli Adventure: Sequel To The Bestselling Thriller Fatal Mistake Read Free

gave me sarcasms. Maybe I wasn’t going to like this guy after all.
    “It is what it is. So what did your associate do for you?” I queried trying to change the subject.
    “If I told you, I’ve have to kill you,” he quipped trying to be a smart ass.
    “You could try,” I stated just loud enough for him to hear as I finished my drink. I waited a moment for his retort, but he didn’t make any snappy comeback.
    “Well, got to go.” I said and slid off the bar stool. “Oh hey, here’s a flyer for my company. You might want to give me a try, if something comes up where you could use an investigator who doesn’t follow the rules and gets results.” I handed him the napkin I’d been doodling on, which was essentially just my name and phone number with the words, ‘Quiet Investigations and other problem resolutions’.
    As I started to walk away the guy cleared his throat and said, “Hey, hold on a moment.” He then tossed back the remainder of his second Manhattan, slipped off his stool and walked off towards the door. As he crossed the bar to the front door he was checking out the room for anyone watching him or me. “Let’s take a walk shall we?” He stated as he reached the door and glanced back one more time.
    We turned left and walked south towards Union Ave. He was silent until we reached Union. Then, just as I was about to ask what’s up, he held up his hand, cutting off conversation and we kept on walking. It wasn’t until we had crossed the street and turned left towards Gay Street, that he started talking.
    “Okay, I like you, plus I’m in a bit of a fix. Here’s my card. I’m Edward Holston, Attorney at Law and like your former employer, I work for some colorful people. I have a job I need done a.s.a.p. Are you interested?” he asked, as we continued to walk towards Gay Street.
    “You haven’t told me what the job is yet,” I responded, “but I’m interested.”
    “Good, now what’s your real name?” He pretty much demanded.
    “John Carpelli. Like the flyer says.” The guy pulled the crumpled napkin from his pocket and opened it, then stuffed it back in his pocket. “The attorney I worked for was a guy named Jackson Bender. I worked for him almost exclusively, for twelve years. I draw the line at whacking people, especially if the person to be whacked is me or a close friend. I don’t, sort of as a rule, ask what anyone has done to warrant my attention, but I do need as much information as you have on the person, if I’m to solve the issue. I’ll expect to be provided things like their name, address, cell phone, make and model of car, who their close friends are, if they have a job. If they belong to anything, like clubs, bowling leagues, golf clubs, or the Shriners, if there are children living with them, exactly what information I’m expected to deliver or get, whether the message needs to be delivered in such a way as to leave a mark or leaves them guessing as to how your client came across it. I also need to know what the time frame is for the completion of the task.” I took a breath and continued.
    “I’ll need to know the name of their employer and if they are made. If a body needs to be disposed of, it’s twenty-five grand. If you really need the body to disappear while it’s still breathing, it’s a hundred grand as a basic fee and I may or may not take the assignment, once I hear who the target is. I’m not into suicide packs or performing for an audience. If it happens a target ends up dead, by accident, well there’s no charge and no comment. And last but not least, I decide how best to solve the issue, unless the client specifically spells out the solution ahead of time. And last but not least, I work alone. Each and every one of these items is a deal breaker.” Holston walked on silently for a few moments then started talking again. I guess he agreed to my terms.
    “The associate, who was shot in the bar, was my investigator. He was supposed to have