Today’s excerpt is from Pool
Of Blood, the third book of the Becker Trilogy. Crooked attorney’s fate being sealed as Jim,
Bob, and Holy discuss the situation. Enjoy
and have a great day.
m.j.
Holly was still
well behind Dooley when he reached his house.
By the time he had pulled into his garage and was opening his front
door, Holly was still half a block away, but those in the car could see as he
entered his home. Holly drove by, went
down to the second cross street, and made a U-turn. Jim told her where to stop on the opposite
side of the street, and the three in the car went into waiting mode.
Meanwhile, when
he heard the garage door closing, Newton decided Dooley had enough time to
disarm his alarm system, so he slipped in the back door. Dooley hadn’t done anything to his
alarm—because he didn’t have one. He had
only lived in the house for a few days past six months, and just hadn’t gotten
around to ordering an alarm system. When
he came in, he placed his bag of money on a living room coffee table, and was
taking off his now slightly wet suit jacket when Newton walked into the room.
Dooley’s mouth
fell open as Newton motioned toward the floor.
“Face down. Don’t say a damned
word, or I’ll blow your head off.”
Dooley, his
mouth still hanging open, did as told after only a slight pause. Newton quickly knelt down next to him,
secured his hands with a plastic restraint, then raised Dooley’s head and
slipped a black bag over it.
While Dooley
continued to lie on the floor thus restrained, Newton saw the paper bag, looked
inside, and smiled. Since Hoyer hadn’t
told him about the twenty thousand dollars, he got Dooley to his feet and,
carrying the bag, hustled Dooley to and through the back door. Had he waited a few moments longer before
entering the living room, Newton would have walked out with the other twenty
thousand dollars, because it had been Dooley’s intent to open the safe hidden
behind a picture on his living room wall to add the money from the bag inside
with his earlier deposit to what he thought of as the First National Bank of
Dooley.
Dooley was not
thinking about his “bank” as he was led across his backyard and through the
mud, to the rear door of the unfinished house.
He was wondering why he was being “kidnapped” when the man with the gun
surely had found his money…he had heard the sound of the bag being opened.
By the time
Newton had Dooley in the trunk of his car and had secured his feet together
with another plastic restraining strip, Jim stretched and sighed. “I wish Newton would come along, if he’s
going to.”
Bob nodded in
the backseat. “Yeah—me, too. How long do you think we should wait, Jim?”
“I guess we
should give it an hour or so. He doesn’t
come by then, it might be a good idea to go in and introduce ourselves to Dooley,
and see if we can get some cooperation from him. I’ve got an idea he’ll give it up without too
much trouble if we offer him protection—which I’m sure your cop pal will be
happy to supply.”
“Or,” Holly
muttered, “we can just leave him to his own devices, like you suggested in the
first place, Jim.”
“Yeah, we could
do that…but the more I thought about it, the more I felt he might expedite
Michelle’s chance to get a new trial for Bernard. What say you, Bob?”
“I like your
first idea better. Just let Newton have
his ass. We can deal with Hoyer and
Newton any old time. We get Dooley
talking, it’ll lead to the arrest of Hoyer and Newton before we get a chance to
talk to them in private.”
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