came up. This man was good at covering his tracks, but I had a secret weapon for situations like this. There was one man I could call to take care of this, and his name was Lucky.
“Hey Lucky, it’s Sheila. I need a favor; can you meet up for lunch today?”
“Anything for you Ms. Quinn,” he responded.
“Hey Ryan, I’m gonna step out for lunch. I’ll be back in about an hour.” I locked up my office and headed to the diner on Oak Street.
Lucky was standing in front of the diner with his infamous black hooded sweat shirt with a white skull on the front. His black backpack was slung over his shoulder and a metal chain hung from his denim jeans.
“Hey Lucky,” I said stepping out of my car.
“Oh my god, Sheila, you look amazing,” he said giving me a hug.
“You don’t look too bad yourself. You filled in a lot.”
“Two years clean. I hit the gym now for my fix instead of drugs; I had to leave those alone.”
“God, if only Kieran was as smart as you.”
“How is he by the way?”
“Not good, but we’ll talk about him later.”
Lucky was an old friend of my brother’s. We’d hooked up once years ago after I saved his mom’s home from foreclosure. He couldn’t afford to pay me back so he promised to be my clean up man. He could get dirt on anyone or make them disappear if needed.
“Let me grab a gyro and we can get to work. Would you like one, Sheila?”
“Of course.”
We found a quiet spot at the dog park around the corner from the diner to talk. No one would bother us there.
Lucky had gotten pretty attractive over the years, but he had one flaw that he always pointed out: a scar across his eye, which I honestly thought made him look badass. It stretched from his forehead to the top of his cheek, the result of a freak incident during one of his drug binges.
His chocolate brown eyes cut over at me as he took a bite of his wrap. His face was clean-shaven and I could see the dark brown hair creeping from underneath his hood. “So what do you need to know, Lucky?”
“His name and where he works should be all the info I need,” he responded, placing his sandwich back down on the foil it had come in and pulling his laptop out of his bag.
I pulled out the copy of Keith’s license I’d taken from him the night in the hotel. “Is this good enough?”
“It’s perfect. Give me a few minutes and I can hack into any electronic thing that he owns. His phone, computer, GPS, anything!”
“Dig for anything and everything you can see,” I said, taking a bite out of my wrap.
After ferociously typing away at his laptop for what seemed like forever, he turned his laptop around to show me what he’d found. A bunch of coded nonsense that I couldn’t understand was on his screen. It literally looked like something straight out of the movie “The Matrix”.
“What does all of that mean?”
“It means I have enough dirt on this asshole to send him packing.”
“Excellent.”
Now that that was done, then came the hard part. How the hell was I going to get close enough to Keith to nail his ass to the coffin?
Keith was actually pretty eager to see me again, so eager it was almost fucking sickening. It almost seemed as if he had forgotten about the whole me abandoning him in the hotel incident.
I met up with him at another seafood restaurant named The Shack.
“Sheila, I accept your apology. I know that was just an honest mistake that you are willing to make up to me, right?” he said, touching the top of my hand.
We were seated fairly quickly and placed our orders with the waitress. “So Keith, why is there a lien on the property you gave me the permit for?”
“Well technically Sheila, you stole the permit information from me.”
“Well technically Keith, you’re an asshole.”
He smiled at me as he took a sip of his water. “You’re correct.”
I tried my best to ease into things as gradually as I possibly could, but he was making it very difficult.
After our meal
“Hey Lucky, it’s Sheila. I need a favor; can you meet up for lunch today?”
“Anything for you Ms. Quinn,” he responded.
“Hey Ryan, I’m gonna step out for lunch. I’ll be back in about an hour.” I locked up my office and headed to the diner on Oak Street.
Lucky was standing in front of the diner with his infamous black hooded sweat shirt with a white skull on the front. His black backpack was slung over his shoulder and a metal chain hung from his denim jeans.
“Hey Lucky,” I said stepping out of my car.
“Oh my god, Sheila, you look amazing,” he said giving me a hug.
“You don’t look too bad yourself. You filled in a lot.”
“Two years clean. I hit the gym now for my fix instead of drugs; I had to leave those alone.”
“God, if only Kieran was as smart as you.”
“How is he by the way?”
“Not good, but we’ll talk about him later.”
Lucky was an old friend of my brother’s. We’d hooked up once years ago after I saved his mom’s home from foreclosure. He couldn’t afford to pay me back so he promised to be my clean up man. He could get dirt on anyone or make them disappear if needed.
“Let me grab a gyro and we can get to work. Would you like one, Sheila?”
“Of course.”
We found a quiet spot at the dog park around the corner from the diner to talk. No one would bother us there.
Lucky had gotten pretty attractive over the years, but he had one flaw that he always pointed out: a scar across his eye, which I honestly thought made him look badass. It stretched from his forehead to the top of his cheek, the result of a freak incident during one of his drug binges.
His chocolate brown eyes cut over at me as he took a bite of his wrap. His face was clean-shaven and I could see the dark brown hair creeping from underneath his hood. “So what do you need to know, Lucky?”
“His name and where he works should be all the info I need,” he responded, placing his sandwich back down on the foil it had come in and pulling his laptop out of his bag.
I pulled out the copy of Keith’s license I’d taken from him the night in the hotel. “Is this good enough?”
“It’s perfect. Give me a few minutes and I can hack into any electronic thing that he owns. His phone, computer, GPS, anything!”
“Dig for anything and everything you can see,” I said, taking a bite out of my wrap.
After ferociously typing away at his laptop for what seemed like forever, he turned his laptop around to show me what he’d found. A bunch of coded nonsense that I couldn’t understand was on his screen. It literally looked like something straight out of the movie “The Matrix”.
“What does all of that mean?”
“It means I have enough dirt on this asshole to send him packing.”
“Excellent.”
Now that that was done, then came the hard part. How the hell was I going to get close enough to Keith to nail his ass to the coffin?
Keith was actually pretty eager to see me again, so eager it was almost fucking sickening. It almost seemed as if he had forgotten about the whole me abandoning him in the hotel incident.
I met up with him at another seafood restaurant named The Shack.
“Sheila, I accept your apology. I know that was just an honest mistake that you are willing to make up to me, right?” he said, touching the top of my hand.
We were seated fairly quickly and placed our orders with the waitress. “So Keith, why is there a lien on the property you gave me the permit for?”
“Well technically Sheila, you stole the permit information from me.”
“Well technically Keith, you’re an asshole.”
He smiled at me as he took a sip of his water. “You’re correct.”
I tried my best to ease into things as gradually as I possibly could, but he was making it very difficult.
After our meal
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