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

delivered a message last night, to an underling of one of my clients. You heard he was killed, so I don’t know if the message was delivered or not. Witnesses are saying he got involved with some woman and her significant other didn’t like it much. Words were exchanged and he got popped. The woman and her significant other have disappeared off the face of the earth today. What I’d like you to do is find out if the shooting is legit, where the couple disappeared to and if the message was delivered. You figure that out and maybe, I‘ll have some more work for you. I need it a.s.a.p.” He stated as he wrote down his associates name, home address, his girlfriend’s address, the make and model of his car, who he was supposed to have seen last night, a Michael Nolan and all of that guys information, plus description and finally what the message was that was to be delivered. It turned out the message was not a friendly message. In fact, it was downright hostile.
    “So where did this shooting take place?” I asked, as we turned right onto Gay Street and headed south towards the river.
    “At a honky tonk out in Strawberry Plains, on Kitts Rd, it’s a real dive, a biker’s hangout. It’s called, The Wild Rose. If they don’t like your look, they claim it’s a private club and kick you out.” He informed me.
    “Has the autopsy been performed on your friend yet?”
    “The body is still awaiting autopsy at the morgue, but I believe the preliminary should be done. Anything else you need to get this done?” he stated as he handed me the information he had written down.
    “What’s it pay?”
    “Two grand, anything else?” Holston asked.
    “Nope. I’ll be in touch,” I stated as I turned around to walk back to my car. As I walked I checked my watch. It was going on three, still early, I told myself. It occurred to me as I walked back the car that something was out of place. The job I had been asked to perform was typically a five hundred dollar deal, yet Holston had offered to pay two grand. Holston seemed nervous, always looking around. What was I missing? Was he afraid the killer from last night might be looking for him now? Was it because this probably involved bikers? I’ve been to a few biker clubs up north and I guess it didn’t matter to me. I’m usually not welcome in most of the places I investigate. For two grand and with a little luck, I’d have this cleared up by dinner. First stop the morgue.
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
    The morgue turned out to be attached the University of Tennessee Medical School. It took me over an hour to find the right building, nothing is marked. That was after spending almost an hour on line trying to get directions to it. All that was listed on the internet was a vague, general statement that the Medical Examiner’s office was at the University of Tennessee. In the process of finding the ME’s office, I discovered the Medical Examiner’s office in the past had been the subject of numerous and continuing investigations by state and federal officials in regards to, poor administrative and medical practices, and procedures; everything from drugs to bizarre sex parties.
    I wasn’t looking for any person in particular, just someone who could direct me to the clerk who might be able to tell me what the preliminary findings were. As with any medical examiner’s office this large, it serves not only Knox County and the city of Knoxville, but four or five counties surrounding it as well. So they wouldn’t be conducting the autopsy on Holston’s dead associate, for at least a week maybe two.
    In my quest to locate the office of the Medical Examiner, I found myself in the basement of some medical school building, wandering the halls. I’d stopped everyone I’d come across to ask directions and received at least dozen conflicting directions to the intake desk for the County Medical Examiner. Out of desperation, I walked into a room with a sign on the door stating it was, Autopsy