Nickel City Storm Warning (Gideon Rimes Book 3) by Gary Ross (i can read books TXT) 📕

“Ma’am,” Drea said.

“Okay…Ma’am. You here to pull my pud like Rimes or you got something to say?”

“I wanted to meet the man who hired somebody to kill my friend.”

“Look, Ma’am, or whoever the hell you are, I didn’t hire nobody to kill this fool. That’s a story he likes to tell to get sympathy. He needs to get a new act.” He began to rise.

“I’d sit if I were you,” Drea said, still smiling.

Halfway to his feet, Hellman froze, as if something in her voice had arrested his motion. “Why should I sit for you?”

“Because I’ll tell my son you were rude to me, in addition to trying to kill my friend. He won’t like hearing you were rude to his mother.”

Hellman sank back into his seat. “Who the fuck is your son?”

“Language, inmate,” the nearby CO said.

“Who the bleep is your son?” Hellman snapped in a half-whisper.

“He’s in here, doing life for murder. Life without parole, actually, for more than one.”

“Like me,” Hellman said.

“Yes. I’m here to visit him.” Drea sighed but her smile never weakened. “He gets so upset when I give him bad news. But I had good news today. I ran into my old friend here, Mr. Rimes. If anything happened to him or his loved ones, I would be so upset I’d have to tell my son. Then he would be so upset about me, there’s no telling what he would do.”

Quiet for a moment, Hellman looked uneasy. “What’s his name? Do I know him?”

“No,” Drea said, standing. “But he knows you.” Then she started toward the door.

Hellman sat there, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

“Hang in there, Bag Man,” I said. “See you around.”

Drea and I both held our laughter till we were back in the car and on the road.

“Thank you,” I said.

“The least I could do.”

The ride was mostly quiet as she checked her phone and stared at passing farmland. It was quarter past four when we turned onto Genesee Street, which would pass the airport on its way from the country through the suburbs and into downtown. With an hour to spare, we stopped for coffee at a Greek diner a few miles out and talked—about her daughter, about what she would do with Sam when he visited her, about books and movies and Smithsonians I ought to see, about anything but Wally Ray Tucker and the events of the past week.

Curbside at the terminal, she threw her arms around me before I could pull her three lavender roller bags off the back seat. She hugged me for a long time. “Grant would’ve liked you,” she said, kissing my cheek before stepping back. “If we’d had a son…” She let the thought hang there as I pulled out her luggage. I slid her carry-on atop the mid-sized roller’s handle. Then she thanked me, adjusted her purse strap, and pulled her bags into the terminal.

The airport ring road emptied onto the Kensington Expressway, which I could take all the way downtown to the loft. I voice-dialed Phoenix. Her “Hi there!” filled my speakers.

“Drea’s your co-conspirator now,” I said. “You greased a wheel to cut the wait.”

“Her text said everything went well.” She paused. “I know Tripp said he had it locked down, Gideon, but you like to be sure.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better, mister. I love you too.” A heartbeat. “I will do anything to protect you.”

“I know.”

She was quiet a moment. “I called Bobby. He and Kayla are feeling okay today and binging on Netflix. Eddie Colon promised them a pizza so you can come straight here…”

“On my way,” I said.

“Good,” Phoenix replied. “Dinner’s in the oven, the wine is breathing, and the Scrabble board is already out.”

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to Suzette Hollins for suggesting the name Drea; to Mayda Pozantides for the Italian lesson; to Jackie and Anne Henry of Middle Sister Sandwiches; to my old university colleague Michelle who now leads Explore and More, the Ralph C. Wilson, Jr. Children’s Museum; to Dr. Tamara Alsace, the best partner and first reader anyone could want; and to various other locations and businesses that are fictionalized here but actually exist in Buffalo under non-fictional management: PAUSA Art House, Talking Leaves Books, Dog Ears Books, Zawadi Books, the Buffalo and Erie County Public Library and Readers Park, Eastern Hills Mall, the Cheesy Chick, and the Bean Bastard. Torrance Towers is not real but it would be cool if such a place were part of Buffalo’s Cobblestone District.

About the Author

Retired University at Buffalo professor Gary Earl Ross is an award-winning playwright and novelist. His plays include The Mark of Cain, The Guns of Christmas, The Trial of Trayvon Martin, The Scavenger’s Daughter, and the Edgar Award-winning Matter of Intent. The Scavenger’s Daughter and Matter of Intent were filmed by CITTOC Productions of Mumbai, India, as Scavenger’s Daughter and State vs, Malte Mhaske. Ross’s books include The Wheel of Desire, Shimmerville, Beneath the Ice, Blackbird Rising, and the previous Gideon Rimes novels Nickel City Blues and Nickel City Crossfire. For more information, visit him at www.garyearlross.net.

Gideon Rimes Series

Nickel City Blues

Nickel City Crossfire

Nickel City Storm Warning

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