Green Monster by Rick Shefchik Read Free Book Online Page A

ever been in a fight, or been in a car chase, or had a gun pointed at her?”
    â€œAre you expecting that kind of trouble?” Kenwood asked.
    â€œThat’s just it—I have no idea what to expect. I have to be prepared for anything, and I can’t worry about the safety of some desk jockey.”
    â€œDesk jockey?” Heather said, her eyes flashing. “Listen, I was on the ECAC women’s crew champions, I’ve run the Boston Marathon three times, I’m a skeet shooter…”
    â€œYeah, and you ride English-style equestrian, and you studied fencing in Europe,” Sam cut in. “Great, but none of that is going to help me find Babe Ruth, or keep somebody from putting a bullet through both of us.”
    Sam worked alone now, and liked it that way. It allowed him to be in complete control of his movements and his responses. He doubted that Heather was equipped to do anything to help him, but she was definitely equipped to distract him.
    â€œSorry, Sam, but this is the way it’s got to be,” Kenwood said. “It’s too much money and too much scandal to risk if I let you go out on your own. I’m too old to follow you around—much as I’d like to—but Heather can handle anything that comes up.”
    I’ll bet, Sam nearly said out loud. He was tempted to walk away from the job. A case like this was the ultimate dark alley, and he couldn’t begin to guess what he’d find at the other end. But he’d liked being the cop who brought down the bad guy at Augusta; it made him feel alive and valuable, in a way only aggressive investigative work could. He couldn’t face the idea of returning to Minneapolis and tailing Beth Cheslak from motel to motel. Working for the Red Sox was almost like being called up to the majors again. Sam wanted this client.
    â€œAll right, we’ll do it your way.”
    Heather picked up Sam’s glass from the coffee table and stood up to return it to the hutch. Her sidelong glance at Sam contained a hint of triumph.
    â€œI’m going over to my hotel to make some calls,” Sam said. “If I turn up anything, I’ll call you.”
    Heather took a business card out of the inside breast pocket of her blazer and handed it to Sam.
    â€œAnytime, day or night,” she said. This time, Sam thought he caught just the slightest upturn at the corner of Heather’s mouth. Was she thawing out a bit?
    Kenwood picked up the phone on the table and summoned Paul to give Sam a ride back to the hotel.
    â€œYou know what I dread more than anything?” Kenwood said as Sam headed for the door. “If this gets out, seeing some goddamn Yankee fan holding up one of those ‘1918’ signs again, and underneath it ‘2004’ with a line through it.”

Chapter Five
    When he got back to his room, Sam placed a call to Marcus Hargrove.
    â€œHey, Sam,” Marcus said. “What’s up?”
    â€œJust checking to see how you are. They catch that punk who shot at you?”
    â€œNot yet. It was a stolen car.”
    â€œFigures.”
    â€œWe’ll get him.”
    â€œSay, Marcus, I need a phone number for Jimmy the Rabbit.”
    Marcus had joined Investigations a few years after Sam became a detective. He worked out of the organized crime unit, and though his specialty was gangs, he’d come to know most of the serious gamblers in the Twin Cities.
    â€œWhat do you want with Jimmy?” Marcus asked. “You betting on Vikings games, now that you’re a private citizen?”
    â€œI haven’t bet football since they made us drop the office pool.”
    â€œYeah, same here,” Marcus said. “I don’t even watch much anymore. So why Jimmy?”
    â€œCan’t say right now, Marcus,” Sam said. “I’m out of town, working on something kind of sensitive.”
    Marcus asked Sam to wait while he called up Jimmy’s number on his