Hair of the Dog by Gordon Carroll (classic novels to read .txt) 📕

laughter, mumbled words meant only for himself, the flitting of his eyelids and the flaring of his thin nostrils.

The Alpha seemed either unaware or uncaring of the danger that Jerome posed, sitting there so close to him. And the fence between Max and them would not allow Max to aid him if the man attacked. So he lay where he was, unmoving, seemingly asleep, but fully awake, waiting and watching.

Halfway through Kansas, I got a call from Jared. I’d phoned him after leaving Sarah’s and told him about the attack at my place and asked him to have Jeffco (The Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office) go clean up the bodies. I didn’t call them myself because I knew they’d want me to come answer a slew of questions and maybe even arrest me until they figured out what was really going on. I didn’t think little Keisha had that kind of time.

“Hey, Jared.”

“You playing games, Gil?”

“Games?”

“Jeffco rolled onto your mountain with just about everything they had available. You know what they found?”

“A bunch of dead guys, a fried SUV and another one shot to pieces?”

“Nothing,” said Jared.

“What do you mean nothing?”

“I mean absolutely nothing. No dead soldiers, no burned up cars, no blood, nothing.”

“That’s not possible,” I said.

“It is what it is,” said Jared. “Two of my buddies from the old days were with the guys that checked it out. If they say there was nothing, then you can trust there was nothing.”

That worried me. Mercenaries were bad enough; not the kind usually associated with gangs like the Bloods, but maybe… maybe they might hire out for an important enough cause. But getting a cleanup on as big of a mess as I’d left… in that quick of a time period… was way too big for any street gang. No way. This had government written all over it, and not just a flunky either. Meaning Senator Marsh himself was involved, and that was a scary thought indeed. What would make a sitting US Senator — a possible candidate for President — get involved in something as deadly as this? And why did he want Keisha?

Scary.

On the bright side, at least Jeffco wouldn’t be sending out a BOLO for my arrest.

“So what is going on, Gil?”

“I’m not sure, Jared, I’m really not, but it’s probably best if you stay out of it from here on until I get more info. No use in both of us getting into trouble.”

And then Clyde’s giant frame and bald head flashed to mind. The senator’s personal bodyguard. Maybe more than a flunky? Him I could see doing this. But would he have the clout? And why? I called Sarah again and asked her to check out Clyde. After a few minutes of teasing, which I was grateful neither Ziggy nor Jerome, who were both sleeping, could hear, we clicked off and I was alone with my thoughts and the flat Kansas landscape.

Once the sun rose, I pulled out my cellphone and made a final call.

31

About six hundred miles outside of Illinois, my cell buzzed. It was Senator Marsh. Despite the fatigue, I smiled as I answered. I’d been expecting his call.

“I thought we had an agreement,” said the Senator. He sounded perturbed, like Morgan Freeman as crazy Joe Clark in Lean on Me, minus the baseball bat.

“Agreement? What agreement?” I asked all innocent like.

“You leaked the story to the press.”

“Did I?”

I could hear him take in a long slow breath and let it out.

“What kind of a game are you playing at, Mr. Mason?” and just like that, he transformed to Luscious Fox from Batman; the calm voice of reason.

“What kind of game are you playing at, Senator?”

“Explain.”

“Did you send men to kill me at my house?”

“What?”

“Mercenaries,” I said. “Two cars full; lots of toys. Very professional. Not the sort of boys to play with gang members. Not Bloods or Crips or even MS13. More like hired thugs from say…a government agency.”

“Mr. Mason, I don’t know what you are talking about, but I assure you I had nothing to do with sending anyone to do anything to you. I came to you to help save a little girl, which you did and for which I will be eternally grateful. Somewhere along the line, you have been turned against me. I don’t know how or why, but if you seriously believe that I would actually try and have you killed, then you know nothing about me. I abhor violence. I grew up surrounded by it. My own brother was gunned down in front of my eyes when I was thirteen years old by a boy barely in his teens. Where I grew up, the streets ran red with the blood of children. I vowed that one day I would put a stop to that violence and I have lived by that vow my entire adult life. It is my guiding principle. So whatever you may think about my politics, or even me myself, the one thing you can be certain of is that I would never condone any act of aggression against an innocent.”

Wow. This guy was good. Either he was being truthful or he deserved an Oscar. Like it or not, I believed him.

“Okay,” I said, “then someone close to you.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“No,” he said, “not possible. Maybe a former client of yours. Someone who held a grudge?”

Possible, of course. I’d made plenty of enemies; some even mercenaries.

“No,” I said, “the timing doesn’t work. I don’t believe in coincidence; at least not this coordinated. What about someone on your staff?”

I could almost hear him shake his head. “But why, Mr. Mason? You did exactly as I asked.”

“What about me finding out about you making a bid for the presidency? What if one of your loyal men thought I might spill the beans and hurt your chances?”

That pause again, but this time I could tell he was considering. He said, “Now don’t think I’m buying into