Murder in Lieu of Flowers by Jeff and Carole Chandler (Huston Grant Thrillers Book 2)
English | 2020| Mystery/Thriller| ePUB | 2.9 MB
In Denver, Colorado, two low level thieves abscond with a bag of cash from a drug deal. One thief leaves his partner for dead, and heads east. He is unaware that his partner is tailing him, desperate for revenge-and the bag of money.
At the same time, in the town of Oak Hill, Tennessee, Frank Davis inherits the family funeral home. Shortly after he moves to town, accidental deaths skyrocket, business booms, and suspicions arise. The local chief of police asks a childhood friend, Nashville private investigator Huston Grant, to nose around and see what he can turn up. What he discovers is a web of adultery, greed and murder that strikes very close to home.
I sit motionless another five minutes, trying to control my shaking body and make sure there is no movement below. Deciding it’s safe, I stand and walk over to the carnage. First approaching the man who ran right, I kneel and check for a pulse. No need. Then I walk over to the man to my left. This poor fella’s eyes are still open, and a slight whisper escapes his mouth. One shot to the forehead takes care of whatever he was trying to say. Then, gun out in front of me, ready for an encounter, I ease around the vehicle to check on the guy who was holding the bag. Holding the bag. That’s a good one. I bend down and feel the man’s carotid artery. Nothing. At least my screw up partner is a good shot. I take the bag of money from the lifeless hand of the dealer and approach my fallen partner.
It takes a few seconds to locate him in the darkness. Barry is laying in front of the Suburban, flat on his back and clutching his leg, trying to stanch the blood pouring from the wound.
“Nice shot Barry,” I say as I sit beside him on the asphalt. “You almost fucked up the whole deal, but at least we got all of them…and the money. No one left to report anything to anybody.”
Barry closes his eyes, then slowly opens them. “Nick, I don’t feel so good. I think I need to get to a doctor.” His eyes close again and he swallows hard, his throat making a clicking sound.
“A doctor? You know I can’t do that buddy. I’ve got to get out of here and take care of this money,” I say, holding the bag where Barry can see it. “Not sure how much is in here, but it’s heavy my man, and heavy is good! Besides, doctors ask questions, especially about gunshot wounds. We’re not answering any questions. Can you stand?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” Barry tries to sit up, falling back to his prone position with a WHOOMPH escaping his lungs. “No man, no way. You’ll have to help me.”
I stand, clutching the bag of money in one hand and my pistol in the other. “We both knew the odds of this thing going into it. I’m afraid our partnership will have to end here, tonight.” With that, I raise the pistol and fire one shot into Barry’s chest.
Turning and running up the hill to the Denali, slipping on the wet grass, I climb into the truck and turn the ignition. Then I sit back and take a cigarette out of my coat pocket. Punching the lighter again, I shake my head. I hated to do that, but what choice did I have? Besides, I didn’t off him, the drug dealer did. I just made his exit a little quicker, that’s all.
The lighter clicks, and I fire up the Marlboro. I really do need to quit smoking these things. That vape things seems dangerous though. At least cigarettes take years to kill you. The bag with the money sits on the seat beside me, and I gently place the pistol on top of it. Then I shift into drive and get out of there as quickly as possible.