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

here a while, and he got business in LA. Been back and forth, but I don’t know anything about it, I don’t know nothing!’

‘Ok, ok, so how does he get hold of you?’

‘My cell, he calls my cell.’

‘And how do you get hold of him?’

‘I call him.’

Bortado stared upward, realisation dawning.

‘Look man, he’ll fucking kill me.’

‘Fuck that. You do not need to worry about that. You got way more pressing problems. Give me the number.’

‘It’s on my cell. The cops got it. Fuck.’

Reed looked at John.

‘Got any questions?’

‘Just one. Where in LA, it’s a big city. He got a place there?

Bortado wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, blood and tears dripping off his chin. It was over, he was broken.

‘I don’t think so. Maybe. I don’t know, I never asked. We ain’t buddies man, I’m serious.’

‘Ok.’

Reed pulled Bortado to his feet, who stood fearfully looking from one man to the other.

‘So, what now? I helped, right? I gave you everything! Please!’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

Reed snapped on the handcuffs and pushed him back up the slope toward the car, grabbing his t-shirt on the way. John picked up the shovel and the axe, then looped his arm through the back of the chair and followed them.

Reed drove back to the cruiser, the cops looked in the car as they approached but said nothing about the state of Bortado, just climbed in the cruiser and the two cars headed back to the police precinct. As they pulled up John turned around in his seat to Bortado, making him flinch.

‘You owe us. You get that, right? You’re still breathing. But here’s the clincher, if you say one word to anyone about what went down out there and who we asked you about I will hunt you down. It doesn’t matter to me where you are, whatever jail you end up in I’ll find you. I do not give up. And trust me, it will be painful. I will really hurt you.’

Bortado believed every word, staring back at him and moaning.

They climbed out the car and pulled Bortado from the back. One of the cops handed Reed some baby wipes who used a generous amount to clean the worst of Bortado’s face, then they went back into the custody area.

The sergeant at the desk looked up.

‘Oh Christ,’ he started, but was interrupted by the cop with the baby wipes.

‘He fell on the steps sarge, it’s not as bad as it looks.’

Nobody mentioned there were no steps and Bortado was led away, John and Reed waited for the captain

He came in with Judy following.

‘Well?’

‘He’s pretty much confirmed what we already guessed, but he has told us that Pinsky’s in LA. Judy, can you authorise a trace on his mobile number? Bortado’s got it stored in his phone,’ John led Judy over to the counter.

‘Yeah, I can do that, what’s the number?’

The captain ordered for Bortado’s phone to be brought out, he actually had three of them on him when he was arrested. They were in separate evidence bags, and all locked.

‘No problem,’ Reed said, and picked up the bags. The sergeant took him over to Bortado’s cell, and a couple of minutes later he reappeared holding up a mobile. There was a number under the contact name ‘Russ L’.

‘What do you think?’ Judy asked, writing the number down.

‘It’s all we got,’ John told her.

‘Shit. Please stop fucking saying that,’ Reed pleaded.

John looked at him and shrugged.

‘Well …’

Judy disappeared to make the arrangements, and John asked the captain to collect the minivan from the Mirage, and get it searched it for a tracker.

They needed to get back to LA. Fast.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sammy parked up just off the beach close to the pier and got out the car.

She breathed in the sea air and looked around.

So far, she liked Santa Monica. She had driven right through it, following Ocean Avenue from the south. There were a lot of hotels. Big and small, cheap and expensive. All the major brands plus many more and lots of motels too. This wasn’t going to be easy.

But if John Smith was here, she would find him, she was determined.

She walked over to a taco stand and bought lunch, then sat on a wall looking out over the sea while she ate. She found herself thinking about Jason, and wondered what he was doing right now. He was probably exhausted by the twenty-three-year-old stripper, although she suspected that would be over and done with. She never thought about him much, it was the proximity of the sea she decided. They had their honeymoon in Hawaii, and had holidays in Mexico and Bali.

He probably had moved on, maybe another stripper she thought, but who knew.

And who cared. She had work to do.

She finished the taco, dropped the paper plate in a bin and stood up.

An hour later she had discovered a major flaw in her reasoning. She had anticipated her usual fresh-faced appealing approach where a receptionist would be all too eager to help was the way forward, it rarely failed.

‘Sure, yes we got a Mr John Smith staying here, would you like me to call his room?’

At the start, this had worked in the smaller hotels and motels to a certain extent, some staff even recognised her, although there was no sign of Mr Smith. But for the big-name brands, nothing doing, and this had become even tougher as she made her way further into the Downtown area. Here, all she would get is a surly stare, or a smirk, wherever she went.

She would have to change tack.

She found a coffee shop where she could sit and look out at least a dozen hotels, and hoped for the best. Maybe he would even come in for a drink. She hadn’t spoken to Moran yet, and had hoped for something definitive before she had to. But she hadn’t known the area, had never been here before, which was a mistake for sure. She should have done all the research she could first, but