Dead Money Run by J. Frank James Read Free Book Online Page B

to prison and now, at thirty-three, I felt like forty.
    If nothing else, prison taught me how to survive. Some inmates couldn’t live on the outside. They needed minders to tell them where to eat and when to sleep. Others made prison a business. They organized themselves like corporations with CFO’s and Vice Presidents with Project Managers. They were not leaving until they had complete control of things and could carry that with them when they left. Then, there were the loners. I was one of those. I had learned not to depend on anyone except myself. Yet, here I was, like a man on a merry-go-round, doing the very thing I said I would never do, putting trust in someone.
    “Where to now,” said Hilary.
    I shrugged and said, “Jacksonville Beach. I have to start pulling on strings and see what happens.”
    “What do you think will happen?”
    “The way I got it figured, Lockman is going to tell me everything he knows or else.”
    “Why kill him?” said Hilary.
    “Who said anything about killing him? There are a lot of reasons why people talk to you. They might start missing some body parts. That usually gets things rolling.”
    While we were on I-95 heading to Jacksonville, I asked Hilary what she knew about Lockman.
    “Not much. He was never around when Susan and I talked. What I know is just what she had told me whenever we got t ogether over coffee at her place. My job was to get details on you, not him. However, Susan couldn’t stand him. Said she had to use him as a front for what she had to do. I got the impression she was in Jacksonville to get information and when she got what she needed, she was going to hit the road.”
    “ Did Susan ever tell you who she was working for?” I said.
    “No. Then again,” said Hilary, “I got the impression she really wasn’t sure.”
     

Chapter 16
    Jacksonvill e Beach, Florida was once just a bunch of tents with people sleeping on the beach. Today the town reminded me of Daytona Beach without the motorcycles and the putt-putt golf outlets. All that was in the town were condos, hotels and seafood places. I never understood why my sister moved here from Atlanta until I drove over the Intracoastal Waterway and saw the reason why.
    Squeezed in between A1A and the Atlantic Ocean was one of the largest resorts I had ever seen. It looked like someone had taken fifteen football fields and stacked them on top of each other like a multilayer cake. A statue of an Indian the size of a ten story building was in the front standing in the middle of a collection of multilevel fountains and pools of water. In some of the pools there were swans swimming around dipping their heads every now and then into the water in front of the big Indian. Next to the Indian was a large sign welcoming people to the Timucua Castle and Casino Resort. Just before driving onto A1A, I saw a small office supply store in a strip mall on our right and drive into the small parking area parking in front of the store.
    “I need to stop here for something ,” I said.
    “Don’t tell me you’re going to buy cards?” said Hilary.
    “No. I’ll be right back.”
    When I returned to the car, Hilary looked over at me and said, “We need office supplies?” she asked.
    “Interested in doing a little gambling,” I said.
    “I thought we were doing that already.”
    While starting the car, I showed her what I had purchased. I also had the clerk exchange a ten dollar bill for a roll of quarters.
    “ I give up. What are the quarters for?”
    “Balance,” I said.
    “And the quit claim deed. Are we going into the real estate business?”
    “We aren’t buying anything. I thought it might be a good idea to bring one of these along when I met with Jake. He might want to part with his interest in my sister’s condo and I wanted to be ready for him.”
    “What are the latex gloves for? I might want to watch this in case there is a test later.”
    “Finger prints,” I said.
    “You think he will sign