Death's Last Run by Robin Spano Read Free Book Online Page A

That, and there was no way Amanda would let her. Because Jana was right about one thing: an undercover cop would not drop acid on assignment.
    â€œCome on. How else will I know if you’re Sacha?”
    â€œWhat?”
    Jana pulled the sundae bowl toward her. “I brought two spoons. You want some now, right? I always want ice cream when I smoke pot.”
    Clare took a spoon and dug in. The chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream tasted amazing — cold and rich and soft against all sides of her mouth. She felt like she was biting into Wonderland. Except Alice was dead.
    Clare had definitely inhaled.



EIGHT

    WADE
    Wade pushed the sealed white envelope marked with an N across his cheap metal desk. They were in Wade’s cramped office at Avalanche — because where else would Wade be? He’d done nothing but work in the three and a half years since he’d opened this damn bar.
    He had trouble releasing his hands when the envelope got to the other side. There was enough cash inside to put a big dent in Wade’s problems.
    These were his best friends in the world. Why couldn’t he tell them the truth?
    Stu Norris took the envelope. Wade watched him quiver as he slipped it into his inner jacket pocket. He wondered how Stu reconciled these envelopes with his position as police inspector — which in Whistler made him head cop in town. Was he torn between his friends and his job?
    â€œHow much is in here?” Norris asked.
    â€œEleven grand.”
    Beside Norris, Chopper leaned back on two legs of his chair, twirling his blond dreads like he didn’t have a care in the world. Wade watched them, side by side, such different men — they always had been — Norris small and nervous, Chopper big and bold. And Wade somewhere in the middle, on both counts.
    â€œIt’s been a good week,” Chopper said. “These dudes in Seattle have been moving Mountain Snow like crazy. Keeping me up nights in my lab, but that’s cool. I dig the midnight oil.”
    â€œShame,” Norris said, “that production has to stop.”
    Wade frowned. He met Chopper’s gaze, and Chopper looked confused, too. “What are you talking about?” they said virtually in tandem. Neither of them laughed, like they normally would, at the synchronicity.
    â€œRichie didn’t tell you?” Norris shook his little head back and forth. “He was supposed to tell you both. Piece of shit drug dealer.”
    Chopper tumbled his chair forward so it was back on all four legs. “Relax, man. Richie’s cool. Whatever this problem is, it can’t be the end of the world.”
    â€œYou vouch for that?” Norris said.
    â€œAre we back to that?” Chopper held his palms face-up in the air. “I brought Richie in over a year ago. He’s been nothing but lucrative for us all.”
    Norris wrinkled his mouth. “I don’t like his attitude. Stomps into my office, tells me how to do my job. And I don’t like how he looks at Zoe in her photographs.”
    â€œPlease. Richie’s not a pedophile.”
    â€œNot like that,” Norris said. “He eyes her up like . . . collateral.”
    â€œYou think he’d hurt her?” Wade asked. “I mean, if things got bad?”
    â€œNo!” Chopper shook his head vigorously, blond braids whipping back and forth. “Richie’s good shit. And yes, I vouch for him. His bling is only skin deep.”
    â€œYou have an extra cigarette?” Norris asked Wade.
    Wade pulled two cigarettes from his pack and passed one to Norris. His ashtray was overflowing, but he didn’t feel like crossing the room to the garbage bin. “Shit, Stu. This must be bad. I haven’t seen you smoke in years.”
    Norris’ small limbs trembled like he’d just had a quintuple espresso. He clutched at the cigarette and flicked Wade’s lighter a few times before he got it. He took a deep draw in and