Danger Close by James Sumner (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

connected to that world as you say, it’s not a stretch to think whoever took that contract out is making sure no one decides to start flapping their gums about it after seeing it on the news.”

“Aye. Either that, or it was the shooter himself.” He shrugged. “She was at her desk in her office. Someone got that close to her without raising an alarm. He was either really good, or Mama knew him well enough to not be surprised when he walked in.”

“Good point.”

“So, what are ya thinking, Jules? You wanna try this place in Des Moines?”

She sighed. “This is clearly a bust. I don’t see what other option we have. I say we head to the hotel. I’ll let Jericho know we might have found out where his shooter went after Uruguay. Then we should get some sleep before heading back to Santa Clarita in the morning. Been a long-ass day, and I doubt the days ahead will be any easier.”

Collins nodded. “Okay. I might hit a couple of bars around town and see what I can dig up.”

Julie raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Haven’t you had enough entertainment for one day?”

He smiled. “Can never have enough, Jules. Life’s way too short. But no, it’ll be strictly business, I swear to ya. There’s a couple of dive bars close by. The locals are just the type of folks who might know what happened here.”

“Contractors, you mean?”

“Aye, some of them. Others are just scumbags, but they all move in the same circles. Might be nothing, but I may as well while we’re here. In this world, Mama put Brooklyn on the map. She may as well have been a celebrity. Somebody might know something.”

Julie thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, go do your thing. But give me your gun. Not having you wandering around town with that. GlobaTech has enough PR problems.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He handed it to her. “Here.”

She tucked it behind her and nodded to him. “You know where the hotel is. Call if you get a lead.”

“I will.”

They stepped out onto the sidewalk and headed back toward the front of the bakery. At the entrance to the subway station, they stopped, each intending to go in the opposite direction.

Julie looked at him. “Ray, watch your six, okay? And stay out of trouble.”

He grinned. “Ya know me, Jules. I’m a goddamn boy scout.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ray. I do know you, which is exactly why I said to stay out of trouble.”

He laughed as he walked backward away from her, waving. Then he turned and was gone.

Julie sighed. “This is a bad idea.”

17

Collins navigated his way through Brooklyn mostly on instinct. It had been a long time since he was in this part of New York City. While some things looked distantly familiar, he still felt like a tourist.

Eventually, he turned left at 42nd and 10th, walking underneath New Utrecht Avenue, held high above the streets by sturdy but aged pillars made of iron and concrete. Cars lined the dimly lit sidewalks on both sides. There was little foot traffic at this time of night, but that just confirmed to Collins that he was in the right part of town.

He looked ahead on the other side of the street. There was a low building in between two tall ones, with a metal shutter pulled down over the entrance. Beside it, looking about as conspicuous as possible, was a man leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his hand. His muscular frame showed through his jacket, even from this distance.

“Bingo…” muttered Collins.

He crossed over, heading toward the guy. His hands were dug into the pockets of his own jacket. He kept his gaze low, admiring the sidewalk. He noticed his jeans had a small bloodstain on the right thigh.

“Ah, shite,” he hissed to himself. He licked the tip of this thumb and tried to remove it.

He slowed as he neared the building and saw the guy look up at him. Collins nodded a gentle, courteous nod. The guy pushed himself off the wall, standing straight and flicking the cigarette away. He returned the gesture.

“This still a good place to get a drink?” asked Collins.

The doorman looked him up and down. “You sure you’re not lost?” His voice was deep and gravelly, which suited his frame and physique.

Collins smiled. “I’ve been lost for the last half-hour. I think I finally found the place I’m looking for, though.”

“Uh-huh. New in town?”

“Not new, but it’s been a while. Just passing through.”

The guy looked him up and down again. “You packing?”

Collins shook his head.

The guy smiled humorlessly. “You’re definitely new in town.”

He stepped aside and pushed the metal shutters, which turned out to be a door that had been cleverly painted to trick the eyes.

Collins pointed to it as he headed inside. “Huh… nice. Have a good evening, buddy.”

“Whatever,” the guy replied, pulling the door closed again.

Inside was a wide corridor. All around was bare concrete, with patches of damp and small puddles underfoot. Up ahead, Collins saw two counters, one on either side, built into the walls. He walked toward them. The opening to his left had a sign above it that said, Check your coat. The one on the right said, Check your weapons.

He smiled to himself. Both holes in the wall had a man inside. He greeted them both with the same polite nod.

“Anything you wanna check in?” said the guy on his left.

“Nah, I’m good,” said Collins. He pointed to the double doors that lay ahead. “Are the drinks through there?”

“They are.”

“Peachy!”

Collins pushed open the doors and walked inside. He was greeted immediately by smoky, stale air that lingered near the ceiling in a gray haze. The bar to his right was busy without being crowded. Most seats in the large room were taken. The pool table at the back was occupied. He didn’t recognize the music playing.

No one paid him any attention.

Collins approached the bar, twisting his body to squeeze into a gap at the