Dying For LA by Ian Jones (top fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

had been told to get close and so it wouldn’t make that much difference.

He swallowed. The target had a room on the twelfth floor. No suite for this guy. He made his way over to the elevators, there was one waiting on the ground floor; doors open.

He casually walked in and pressed the twelve button.

Nothing happened.

He pressed it again.

Still nothing.

Then he saw the slot in the panel and the sign advising a room key was required, so just as casually he sauntered out back into the casino. What to do?

He could get a room.

Now that might be nice.

No that was stupid. Mentally he slapped himself on the head. He could hardly hang around here, he needed to get away from the hotel, and fast. He turned back and watched people coming and going from the elevators.

You are an asshole, he told himself.

He wandered across, and let a couple walk into an elevator in front of him then got in just after. He made a show of going into his pocket but the guy had already put his card in, and pressed the button for twenty-one. With a smile, Gallagher hit the twelve. The light came on, and the lift started to ascend.

No going back now.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The following morning after checking out, John and Reed walked up to Caesars, then queued at the buffet for breakfast. They were a bit early, it had been agreed to meet for eight, so they found a table at the back of the room and sat down to eat, comfortably anonymous, John talking about his daughter.

Eight-thirty came and went, no sign of Kyle Warner or Judy.

Nine o’clock, and still not there.

‘We definitely said here right?’ Reed asked, there were so many possibilities along the strip that if they had misheard it could be a very long day. John didn’t have his mobile, Reed had his but he hadn’t thought to give out the number.

‘Yeah, definitely. Buffet at Caesars, eight o’clock,’ John replied, also puzzled.

They got a coffee top up and continued to wait.

The buffet was quite big, but from their seats they could see the whole place so it wasn’t possible to have missed the other two. John couldn’t think how to play this, they had no idea where the others had stayed last night for a start, Kyle had gone to The Mirage but they didn’t know if he had actually been given a room there. It was possible that maybe they had found something out last night and gone this morning to check it out. He decided that was the most likely and told Reed, who agreed.

But it was nearly ten o’clock and there was still no sign, and they were considering going back to the Paradise police HQ when Kirsty Casiano appeared, looking out of breath and harassed. She spotted them then rushed over and leaned on the table.

‘Something’s happened. Something bad. Come on, we got to go.’

John and Reed stood up, concerned.

‘What’s happened?’ asked John.

‘I’ll fill you in on the way, let’s go.’

She rushed out of the buffet and the two men followed her, wondering what was going on.

Her cruiser was right outside the main doors, roof lights flashing.

They climbed in; Reed in the front and John in the back and Kirsty floored it, wheels screeching as she shot out onto the strip and headed north, siren blaring, working her way steadily through the traffic. She looked at Reed and glanced at John in the mirror.

‘Ok, no easy way to say this. Kyle is dead. Shot last night right outside his room at the Mirage.’

‘Oh fuck!’ Reed proclaimed.

‘What the hell happened?’ asked John.

‘Right, PD have already caught the guy. He just walked up and knocked on Kyle’s door. No chance at all. City are dealing with this. Perp is a local man known to us, one Ryan Gallagher, I’ve never had the pleasure. But nothing like this before they say, just low level street shit in his past.’

‘What about Judy?’ Reed asked looking at her.

‘Judy is ok. She’s safe. She stayed at the Wynn, Gallagher was arrested right outside. He is some kind of asshole, the whole thing was caught on camera, City PD went all out, made the connection and picked him up less than an hour later. He was walking to the front entrance.’

‘So, who is he?’ John asked.

‘I never heard of him but City know him, he works mostly Downtown but does hit the strip. Petty theft, begging, usual shit, no violence on his record.’

‘Have the police got anything on why?’

Kirsty braked hard to avoid a truck changing lane and then swerved around it, accelerating away and blasting the horn, then cutting across sharply to turn right.

‘Oh yeah. He coughed alright, won’t stop talking. He was put up for it by another local hood, and this one is a real piece of work, one Tyrone Bortado, known dealer, money-lender and pimp. Bad news. PD have been chasing him around for years, nothing ever sticks. Another one I don’t know but these guys do; they know him real well. He can’t hide, they have gone for him now. Here we are.’

She pulled up in front of another tan coloured office block, with an identical Las Vegas Police Headquarters sign across the front. She jumped out and opened the door for John and they walked in. They had to sign in, but the desk officer seemed to know what was going on. Kirsty led them through a big open plan office and then up some stairs. Judy was sitting just outside an office, her eyes red from crying. She jumped up and Reed held her tight.

She seemed lost, unable to say anything.

‘It’s ok,’ Reed told her. ‘You’re safe.’

‘He was coming for me,’ she sobbed.

Reed rubbed her back.

‘Yeah, we heard, but they got him. You’re safe now.’

There was some activity from the office, and then a young lieutenant rushed out. He looked at them in surprise and paused, then half-smiled at Kirsty.

‘He’s downstairs,’ he told her.

They followed him back down through