Random Victim by Michael A. Black Read Free Book Online

purse and sorted through it.
    “I don’t have any of my new cards yet,” she said. “But let me give you my home number.” She took out a gray-and-black business
     card with a pair of barbells on the front. As she leaned over the desk Leal noted that her handwriting was clear and neat,
     replete with all the typical feminine flourishes and loops. She wrote Olivia Hart along with a phone number.
    Leal flipped the card over after she handed it to him. The Body Center was printed above the barbell design, with the address. Along the lower edge: Rory H. Chalma, Proprietor .
    “That’s the place where I work out,” Hart said quickly. “If I’m not at home, you can usually catch me there.”
    I’ll bet, Leal thought, pocketing the card.
    “This looks like an Alsip exchange,” he said.
    “Right,” she said.
    “I live in Blue Island,” he said. “Maybe we can carpool sometime since we’ll be working together.”
    “Yeah, sure. And come by the gym to work out if you want,” she said. “I know Rory, ah, the owner, real good.”
    A boyfriend? Leal wondered. She was beginning to seem more feminine to him now, not that her sexuality really mattered as
     long as she knew what she was doing.
    “I thought you worked out here?” he asked. “You looked like you were pretty much at home in that gym when I saw you earlier.”
    “I do, well, at least I used to,” she said. “I’m…I was the aerobics instructor here, in charge of physical training.”
    Leal raised his eyebrows.
    Smith hung up the phone and stood.
    “Guess I need to run by supply and see about them filing cabinets,” he said, smiling as he brushed past them.
    “Wait,” Hart said. “I’ll go with you.” She turned to Leal, smiling up at him as she held the file to her chest like a schoolgirl.
     “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “Right,” Leal said. “Tomorrow.”
    He watched the two of them walking briskly down the hall toward supply as he locked the office, the muscles of Hart’s well-developed
     butt snaking powerfully under the brown fabric of her skirt.
    Here I am stuck on a high-profile task force to investigate an unsolved homicide that just may decide the election, he thought.
     And I got Brice in charge and an ex-aerobics instructor for my partner.
    Suddenly he wasn’t feeling all that lucky. Maybe that drink in Heaven would be just what the doctor ordered.

CHAPTER SIX
    Heaven’s Gate
    Ryan was already on his second drink when Leal arrived. The bar, Heaven’s Gate, was practically empty, except for the usual
     group of hardcore regulars who seemed to begin their drinking as soon as the place opened. Most were retired from the railroad
     or steel industries, but a good portion of them, Leal figured, were ex-coppers, too. Not a pretty thought, he considered as
     the smoky, boozy air enveloped him. A cigarette haze hung over the stool where Ryan was sitting. He raised two fingers at
     Leal.
    The bar itself was made of dark mahogany with a heavy polyurethane coating layered over the top. Suspended between the wood
     below and the top of the plastic was an asymmetrical arrangement of several thousand pennies. The result was not unlike one
     of those glass paperweights with suspended trinkets, bugs, or designs inside. Other than the “pennies from heaven” bar top,
     the rest of the tavern was pretty typical: a mirrored backdrop on the wall opposite the bar; rows of bottles, like old soldiers,
     lining the adjacent edge in solitary silence; some old-style pinball machines dinged away in a corner, accompanied by some
     video poker players; subdued conversations punctuated by an occasional hacking laugh, and the ubiquitous clouds of wispy smoke.
    Sliding onto the red vinyl stool next to Ryan, Leal ordered a beer. Ryan drained the bourbon and water in front of him and
     signaled the bartender, a heavyset guy named Al, to hit him again. Al’s hair looked a little too thick to be natural. And
     the shade didn’t quite match