Breacher (Tom Keeler Book 2) by Jack Lively (reading well TXT) 📕

I said, “And you know this how?”

He rotated his head against the high-backed leather chair. “When you’re running security on a boat, you know what goes on. This is like a floating luxury hotel, okay? There are entertainment suites and facilities that those people use when the boat’s docked here in Port Morris. The actor’s probably at the casino right now. Spends half his life gambling, the other half doing even dumber shit.”

I said, “Usually an actor gets hired for stuff and then goes back to wherever he’s living. What is this guy, like a resident clown for the company?”

Deckart laughed bitterly. He had no way to wipe the blood from his lip, so he was forced to lick at it. His tongue returned into his mouth. “I don’t really know, man, but yeah they keep him around. Like he’s the face of the company or something. I guess it’s why everyone around here thinks Mister Lawrence is a person. Maybe that’s why they do it. I never had the opportunity to ask.”

“And this Mister Lawrence company hired you to intimidate Jane Abrams and her friends. How did they even know about her?”

“The lady in the black Suburban, she started blabbing around, soon as she got up here from the outside. Like she was suicidal or something. The job was to encourage them to leave. That’s it.”

I said, “You aren’t giving me enough detail, Deckart. I want you to concentrate deeply on organizing the information in your head, getting it to your mouth, and then into my head.”

He said something unrepeatable, followed by, “I’ve already told you enough.”

I grinned and pulled Deckart’s shirt apart, like the pages of a book. I placed the tip of my knife to the left of his solar plexus, and about three inches below. He was gazing down past his nose, stunned and horrified. I said, “What you have there is your kidney, lying just in front of the small intestine.” I shifted the knife blade up slightly. “There, now it’s only the small intestine.” I placed my palm over the knife handle butt and tapped on it lightly. He flinched. I said, “I’m going to put this between your ribs here and puncture your small intestine. It won’t kill you. You’ll leak your own shit into your own body for a while before you start to feel bad. I were you, I’d go get medical advice as soon as you can, after I leave. But don’t forget to erase that video, wouldn’t be very good for your security business if folks saw you in such an insecure position.”

I pressed the knife to Deckart’s skin. Deckart was looking down. Sweat was beading up on his brow. I tapped the knife handle. Blood began to well up beneath the blade.

He said, “You’re fucking crazy. I’ll tell you anything you want. I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“Start with how they approached you.”

He licked his lip. “Everything’s through the internet.”

“Like what, you got an email?”

“Yeah, email. They knew about me working security on the boat. Knew about my freelance work.”

“You keep all the emails?”

“There was only one, only the first step. After that, I had to sign up to a dating site for married people who want to have affairs. Smart shit. Now I’ve got a profile up there and everything is through the encrypted chat. That’s part of the deal with that site, guaranteed chat encryption. Like the people that run the website can’t even read the chats.”

“How did they tell you about Jane Abrams?”

He licked more blood, tongue reaching up to his thin mustache. “Okay, so it isn’t like I’m just doing the Abrams job. I’ve been working for these people on and off for a couple of years. With Abrams, they posted a photo of her on the site with a different name. That’s how they do it, if I’m supposed to follow someone or something. They make a fake dating profile for the target so I get the picture and the details that way. Then the chat tells me where to meet them.”

I said, “As if you’re arranging a date.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, smart.”

“How do you know that you’re working for Mister Lawrence?”

Deckart coughed. “I mean, I just know.”

“Tell me how.”

“The way I get paid. They pay me with gift cards.” I pressed the knife in harder. Deckart grunted. “Cruise ships have gift cards, all of them do it. Customers can use them to buy stuff on the boat, like spa treatments, excursions, the casino, restaurant stuff, whatever.”

“And you can cash them out. How do you do that?”

“Casino’s the best place to cash out.”

“The same casino where the bald guy actor likes to hang out.”

Deckart said, “Exactly. And guess how that guy pays his bills.”

“Gift cards. No credit card, no bank trace.”

“You’re a genius.”

I switched it up. “What did they ask for specifically with Abrams?”

“They told me about her, where she was staying. Told me to make life hard for her and her friends. They wrote it in the message, like it was coming from her. Like she was a perv interested in getting hurt but within limits, like not hurt too bad. Know what I mean?”

I pictured Deckart getting orders through an extra-marital dating site. Cruising through the images of desperate housewives and robot scammers. I said, “You enjoyed the work.”

He shook his head, trying to sound sincere. “No. We strong-armed the guy she was with, but only when he stepped to us first.”

“Only the guy she was with. What about the girl, the blonde?”

He shook his head. “No. Nothing. I didn’t do anything to her.”

“Not you maybe, but your guys.”

Deckart was adamant. “No. Not true. You can’t pin that on me.”

I said, “Tell me about George Abrams.”

Deckart said, “Who’s that?”

I pushed the knife in. It penetrated a millimeter and Deckart grunted. Blood ran freely. He was already sweating, but his face was now pale and his body rigid with fear. I said, “George Abrams.