The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(54)

Mule squinted upward. “You,” he said, not believing his eyes.

“Me,” the man said. “Hard to stop when your brakes give out, huh, Mule?”

“Fuck you, you mother...”

Mule saw the boot coming, but there was nothing he could do. His nose exploded in blood and pain. Mule tried to move forward, but now the man was stepping on his hand.

“Before you die, Mule, I want you to know that I spared your daughter and ex-wife. They were both so damn ugly, I wouldn’t have f*cked either with your dick. I am going to have to kill Doolittle, though. And his wife–” the man whistled “–now that is one nice piece of ass.”

Mule struggled, but he couldn’t move. Doo...Then he saw the boot coming again, and he closed his eyes.



JimBone Wheeler took a few steps back and lit a cigarette, admiring his handiwork. Too easy, he thought. Tailing Drake and the girl had turned another profit. Last night, it was Faith Bulyard, whom the boss said he’d handle himself.

Tonight, Mule Morris was the spoils. And he’s all mine, JimBone thought, knowing that, given what JimBone had seen and heard in the bar, there was only one way to handle this problem.

This is just too much fun, he thought. He wasn’t really going to kill Mule’s cousin, and he didn’t even know whether Doolittle Morris had a wife nor not. “Just f*cking with you, Mule,” he said, laughing out loud.

After enjoying as much of the cigarette as he wanted, he went over to the patch of gasoline he’d seen on the ground, and let the cigarette drop from his fingers, seeing the small flame ignite and slither like a snake towards the truck. Then he walked away.

About halfway up the embankment, he heard the explosion, but he didn’t turn around. JimBone just smiled, remembering something the boss had once told him.

Sometimes the only way you can put out a fire is by starting one.





41


Rick and Dawn dropped Powell off at his apartment.

“You sure you’re OK to walk up those stairs?” Rick asked, laughing.

“Drinking and walking is not against the law, sir,” Powell pointed at Rick. “As a district attorney, I know these things.”

Powell took Dawn’s hand and planted a kiss on it. “Ms Dawn, I have a new appreciation for Tanya Tucker after meeting you.” He opened the door and stumbled forward, singing the words to “Delta Dawn” as he walked, holding his trophy up high.

“He kills my soul,” Dawn said, smiling as she watched Powell walk away.

As they drove to the office, Rick caught himself glancing at Dawn every few seconds. At Powell’s urging, Dawn had done a few more “cannonballs” from the Crawfish Cup, but she didn’t appear drunk. Just relaxed. And beautiful, Rick thought.

“Do you mind if I come in and get some coffee?” Dawn asked, when Rick parked in front of the office. “I doubt I should be driving.”

“Not at all,” Rick thought. Not at all.

When they got upstairs, Rick made a pot of coffee and they stood in the reception area. Stop staring at her, Rick told himself.

“What?” Dawn asked, punching him on the shoulder.

Rick shook his head. “Nothing. Just... I can’t believe this is happening. With Mule saying what he said, we can add Ultron as a defendant. We can tell the jury that Ruth Ann’s family died because of a conspiracy between two huge companies to make more money by encouraging speeding and DOT violations. Newton was speeding at the time of the accident, and complained about his schedule at the time of pickup. You heard what he told Mule. ‘Guess I’ll either make it or I’ll get a ticket.’”

“‘Same shit, different day,’” Dawn added.

Rick slapped his hands together. “Mule told the plant manager–”

“Buck Bulyard,” Dawn interrupted.

“–about what was happening, and–”

“Bulyard told Mule not to worry about it.”

“Right,” Rick said, again slapping his hands together. “So we have evidence that a higher-up at Ultron knew about the situation and let it go.”

“Time to sue the bastards,” Dawn said, laughing and causing Rick to laugh.

“Sue the bastards,” Rick repeated, making a mock toast with his drinkless hand. “Think Willistone and Ultron will want to settle?” Dawn asked.

Rick wrinkled up his face. “Are you kidding? They’ll be begging for a settlement. I can just see Tyler now...”

“That arrogant SOB,” Dawn cut in. “So how did it go with Ms Batson? We were so busy with Mule, I never got a chance to ask you about that. Was Tyler his normal * self?”

Rick felt his stomach tighten as the conversation with Tyler came back to him. Tyler’s hiring of an accident reconstructionist. The allegations against Dawn. The photographs...

“It was a good day,” Rick said. “Let’s not ruin it.” He took a step closer and glanced down at her breasts, their outline barely visible underneath her conservative black blouse. He saw the wet T-shirt in his mind, the hard nipples poking against the damp fabric.

“OK,” Dawn said, creasing her eyebrows slightly. “I... I had fun after the festival. Powell really is a trip.”

Rick took another step towards Dawn. “He is.”