One Last Bullet: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 3) by James P. Sumner Read Free Book Online

shower stall on the left as you walk in could fit three people in it, and it has showerheads on the sides and above; I think they’re for some fancy muscle massage thing I vaguely remember reading about once.
    I walk back out and lie on the bed, my arms behind my head. I clench my jaw muscles and I take some deep breaths to calm down.
    “Jesus,” I say quietly. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
     
    18:50
    I grabbed a quick shower and changed into a fresh pair of black jeans and a thin, matching sweater. I re-attached my back holster and both my Berettas and set off for the lobby, to wait for Josh.
    I’m sitting opposite the entrance on the left in a comfortable, light-brown leather chair. Across from me is the front desk, which is an L-shaped counter with four people permanently bustling around behind it. Away to the left, beyond that is a restaurant and bar area, which doesn’t look particularly busy. The decor all around is subtle and expensive. The floor is gray marble tiling, and there are beige marble pillars dotted here and there for effect.
    I glance out through the entrance to the city outside. The street’s busy, full of people rushing back and forth. It’s gone dark now and looks cold, though the rain has held off for the time being.
    After five minutes, the elevator dings, and Josh comes out, striding purposefully toward me. I feel bad about before, and while I’m not normally one to actively apologize, I figure I should make a bit of an effort.
    “Hey,” I say as he approaches. “About before—listen, I—”
    “Water under the bridge, Boss,” he says, waving his hand dismissively and cutting me off. He hands me a scrap of paper with an address hastily scribbled on it. “More important things...”
    “What’s this?” I ask, looking at it.
    “It’s the address of one Billy McCoy. He’s a local scumbag and known coke addict, and he currently resides in the Shadyside district of the city.”
    “He sounds like a charmer… And I should care about him because…”
    “Because his dealer is a guy named Jonas Pike, who I’ve found out works for the recently deceased Tommy Blunt.”
    “You’re making these names up, aren’t you? Make your point, Josh.”
    “Tommy Blunt was thrown off the fourteenth floor balcony of his apartment block yesterday. Word is by Trent himself. Apparently he was skimming from the money his operation brought in or something. If we can get McCoy to tell us where he meets Pike for his fix, we can use Pike to learn more about Trent’s business.”
    My eyes light up, like a kid on Christmas morning when they see all their presents under the tree.
    “Sounds like a good a place as any to start,” I say. “You know how to get there?”
    “Yeah, it’s not far. I figure we can set off early in the morning, try to catch—”
    “We’re going now, Josh.”
    “Oh, right...” He’s taken aback, probably not expecting me to be so eager. “I just thought that maybe you’d wanna... y’know, get a feel for the place again or something?”
    “It’s fine. We’re going now.”
    I turn and head for the door, hearing Josh follow a few steps behind. A rush of excitement comes over me, eradicating all previous doubts and fears.
    The game has begun.
     
    19:13
    Shadyside is a mostly residential district close by to the city center. The three-mile journey took a little over twenty minutes in the traffic, and we quickly found Billy McCoy’s street. We park the Winnebago across from his house. There are no streetlights on nearby, and a low, menacing cloud is obscuring the faint half-moon of dusk, so everywhere is in almost complete darkness.
    “How you wanna do this?” asks Josh.
    I look over at the house. A light is on downstairs.
    “Well, somebody’s home,” I say, gesturing to McCoy’s house. “You go around the back and I’ll knock on the front door.”
    “Am I not better taking the front? I mean, you’re not exactly well known for your people skills,