Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 01 - Galveston by Kent Conwell Read Free Book Online

them.”
    “Come on, George. Let’s go on up to my room and take care of business.”
    George limped after me.
     
    I closed and locked the door behind my bodyguard, then turned on the light. I kept my hand in my pocket clutching the .38. “Okay, start at the beginning. What’s this all about?”
    He shook his head. “My name ain’t George. It’s Virgil.”
    I nodded. From his size and bulk, he didn’t looked like a Virgil. Maybe a Derrick or Rocky, but not a Virgil. “Okay, so it’s Virgil. What’s this all about?”
    He looked around the room uncomfortably. “All’s I know is that Ernie … I mean Ernest Blevins hired me and told me to stick by your side so nothing would happen to you.” He shrugged. “That’s it.”
    I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You didn’t do much of a job out there on the stairs.”
    He shrugged and gave me a sheepish grin. “I’m not really a full-time bodyguard. I’m a bodybuilder. Why, last month I competed in the IFBB’s Mr. Olympia contest. Third place,” he added with a broad grin.
    A bodybuilder! That I could believe, but a bodyguard? “How’d you get in this bodyguard stuff?”
    With the guileless innocence of a child, he explained. “Oh, Ernie lets me do it between competitions. I pick up some cash before I start training for the next competition. Besides, Ernie says it helps his tax return.” He shrugged. “I don’t understand how, but that’s what he says.”
    I rolled my eyes. Great. Now I had a part-time bodyguard, part-time bodybuilder at my side. Still, I liked him immediately. I don’t think he could have told a lie if he wanted to, but I had to be sure. I dialed Ernie.
     
    In a snake-oil smooth voice, Ernest Blevins said, “I don’t know all the details, Tony. All I know is that ‘Mustache Pete’ Abbandando sent word to put a shield on you. When I asked him why, he said that someone had shot out one of his windows.”
    “Yeah. I was there. So what?”
    “So,” Ernest replied. “That slug wasn’t meant for Pete. It was meant for you.”
    I remained silent, stunned by the news.
    “Tony? You still there?”
    “Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. How did Pete know that? I mean how did he know the bullet was meant for me?”
    “He didn’t say, but he has ways of finding that sort of thing. Now listen, Virgil is strong as an ox. He can run his head through a door. He’s got muscle. All you have to do is point him in the right direction. Cousin Marty says you’re a bright guy. You got the brains, Virgil’s got the brawn.”
    I thought about how easily I had taken Virgil out at the stairway. “Well, hey, thanks, Ernie. That makes me feel real good. You hear anything from the D.A. today?”
    “Naw. Takes them old boys awhile. Even if Briggs pushes the case against you, it’ll take him two or three weeks before he can take it to the Grand Jury. By then, Ben Howard will be awake.”
    “You hope.”
    “He will be. Trust me.”
    Trust me! That’s probably what Delilah said to Samson when she gave him the knockout drops. “Yeah. Right.” I replaced the receiver. Sorry, Ernie, I told myself. I don’t trust anyone except my mother’s son. I gave Virgil a crooked grin. “Ernie speaks highly of you.”
    Virgil grinned shyly. “Thanks.” He plopped in a chair and removed his shoe so he could massage his injured foot. “He’s my cousin.”
    With a rueful grin, I shook my head. Now, why hadn’t I guessed that? My boss, Marty, sends me to his lawyer cousin, Ernie, who in turn gives me his muscle-bound cousin for a bodyguard. A classic example of good old American nepotism, and with all the attendant tax breaks.
    With a sigh of resignation, I plopped on the bed, trying to figure out why someone would take a shot at me. A rank odor curled under my nose. I ignored it, concentrating on who might have tied to waste me-—if they indeed had. I needed to talk to Pete about both the alleged attempt on my life and my Significant Other’s cousin, Ted Morrison.