GUNNER (ALTON RHODE MYSTERIES Book 5) by Lawrence de Maria Read Free Book Online Page B

cops and D.A.s running around in circles.”
    “What does all this have to do with me, Vernon?”
    For the first time, a look of animation came to his face.
    “I loved the Army, Skip. You knew that. Everybody treated me right. It damn near killed me when they mustered me out because of my wounds. Yeah, I know, they probably could have found me a desk job, given my record. But combat was out. Hell, I’m in better shape now than I ever was. Worked out like a bandit for years. Thought about trying to go back, but by then I had found this gig. Changed my name and some other things.” Maples held up his free hand to show me the tips of his fingers. “Did you know there’s a place in Mexico where they can erase your fingerprints? Anyway, when you’re making six figures a year, tax-free, taking care of other people’s problems, there’s no reason for nostalgia. Got no family anymore. I don’t even know where my disability payments are going. But that don’t mean I like some sonsabitches using me to kill a Medal of Honor winner. Never would have done it had I known.” He paused and leaned slightly forward. “I want you to find out who the cocksuckers who ordered the hit are, and see that they are punished.”
    I stared at Maples. Despite his hardness and disrespect for life, he had that “trooper” look on his face I remembered well from him and others of my men in Afghanistan. Whenever the shit hit the fan, all eyes, even those of the most grizzled veterans, shifted toward their commander, especially if he’d won their respect. The “Skipper” would figure things out. Just tell us what to do, and we’ll do it. And, by God, they did. Despite the obvious delicacy of my current situation, I couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased.
    “Why don’t you take care of this yourself?”
    “Reasons I gave you, Skip. I don’t know who is behind the hit. I’m a shooter, not a detective like you. Hell, this is the first time I ever even came back to the scene of the crime, as they call it. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
    “Why not go to the cops, even anonymously,” I said. “Tell them Panetta was a hit. They’ll start turning over rocks.”
    “Come on, Skip. I hate cops. For me, that would be like going to the Taliban back in the day. Besides, you know as well as I do that they’ll only clomp around in their muddy boots and fuck things up. It will get back to the people who ordered the hit and they’ll cover their tracks even more than they already have.”
    “What’s to prevent me from just going to the cops with this?”
    “Nothing. But I don’t think you will, for the same reasons I just gave you.”
    “Withholding evidence of a felony is a felony,” I pointed out. “I could lose my license.”
    That got a real laugh out of Maples.
    “Skip, you’re still a pisser. Withholding evidence is what you private eyes do. You could put it on your business card.”
    I’d almost forgotten that Maples probably knew more about the criminal justice system than I did.
    “Whatever I do, it’s bound to get back to the guys who hired you, the middlemen? And then get to you.”
    Maples shrugged.
    “I work off burner phones and numbered accounts that I change every week or so. To my contacts, I’m just a voice on a phone. Hell, like I said, I’m not even Vernon Maples anymore, in case you’re thinking of tracking me down. That name is dead and buried.”
    “Those contacts will know what you did.”
    “Not necessarily. But, hell, nothing is perfect. Even if they put it together, I may lose one source of income. I have several, none of whom know about the others. I’ve been thinking of cutting back, anyway. I got a couple of million in the bank. I could retire right now. Go to the cops if you want. It’s your call, but I think you’re too smart for that.”
    “What makes you think I want to get involved in this at all? I didn’t know Panetta.”
    “Like I say. It’s your call. But I did a little research