Read Post Pattern (Burnside Mystery 1) Online

Authors: David Chill

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Hard-Boiled, #Private Investigators

Post Pattern (Burnside Mystery 1) (19 page)

BOOK: Post Pattern (Burnside Mystery 1)
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"Well looky here," I said, shaking his
outstretched hand. "How are you?"

"Never better. On the top of my game." He
smiled a rich, toothy smile. "Been clean for four weeks now. I'm there,
baby, I'm there!"

"Great, Eddy. How's the job hunt coming?"

"Good, real good. I got a couple of definite
possibilities," he said, licking his lips. "You helped me a
lot."

"Pick up some tips on resume building?"

"I learned me two things at this place," he
declared. "I learned what a resume is, and I learned..." He moved
closer and lowered his voice. "I learned you have some hot babes walking
around here. Mmm-mmm."

I chuckled a little. "Any one in particular catch
your eye?"

"That blonde in the orange miniskirt looked mighty
good, " he said, his eyes sparkling. "I'd do her any time."

"I'm sure she'd be pleased to know that."

"But I think Raff got his eye on her."

My eyebrows shot up. Raff wasn't exactly a carefree
playboy. "Where is old Raff? I saw him in here earlier tonight."

Eddy shrugged. "He might still be upstairs
finishing up. But he said he had to leave early. I learn not to ask too many
questions. Raff kind of a secretive guy."

"You know anything about
him?"

Eddy shrugged. "I think Raff let on he was a
student last year. Lost his funding or something like that, and had some
problems paying rent. He a bright guy when he gets going. He speak real
intelligent-like. Know what I mean?"

"Sure, Eddy. When you stop and think about it,
nobody's that far from the streets." I gulped and thought about my own
dwindling savings account. "It doesn't matter how smart you are or how
many degrees you've got. Most people don't have enough savings to last them
forever. Once the money runs out, you hit up family, friends, whatever."

"Whatever is right," he agreed. "And when
that whatever runs out, you hit the streets."

With that, Eddy stuffed a couple of sandwiches into his
jacket pocket and said he'd see me later. Eddy had his share of problems and I
wondered if he'd make it. Pulling things together was mostly up to the
individual. The ones who controlled their vices seemed better able to escape
the streets. The ones who couldn't usually had their fate sealed.

I finished the rest of my sandwich and wandered around
the room. Half of the attendees had already left, and it appeared the evening
was winding down. In a few seconds I would discover just how wrong that
observation would be.

It came without warning as these things are prone to do.
There were no shouts, no screams, no tables overturned. Instead there was just
a short pop, not unlike a truck backfiring. The noise was muffled by the sound
of plates and glasses clinking and I tried to focus my hearing. A few seconds
later I heard another pop, clearer and more distinct. Some people around the
room looked up, but most went on eating and talking. I was out the door in an
instant however, and raced up the steps. Based on my conversation a few minutes
earlier, I had a sick feeling about what I was going to find.

I ran up to the second floor of the building and looked
around wildly. To the left of the stairwell was a door that was slightly ajar.
To the right were half a dozen cubicles separated by partitions, and an open
door which led into a back stairwell facing an alley. I pulled my .38 from its
holster and walked carefully along the perimeter of the room.

As I reached the corner office, the smell of cordite
wafted into my nostrils. I peeked inside and saw a figure sitting behind a
desk. Wheeling around, I leaped into a crouched position and pointed my weapon
at them, my left hand steadying the hand with the gun. There was no need; the
solitary figure was unable to see me.

In the chair was Wayne Fairborn. His shirt pocket oozed
with blood and in his lap sat a business card featuring the logo of a magazine
called "Tomorrow's Woman." The title on it read "Assistant
Editor." The name on it read "Nina Lovejoy."

 

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BOOK: Post Pattern (Burnside Mystery 1)
4.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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