Page 132 of Hard to Kill

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Page 132 of Hard to Kill

“The remote is sitting right there. And if you’re considering making what would be a huge mistake of your own, you probably know by now what a good shot I am with an air rifle, andfrom a much greater distance than this. Was it you or Morelli or both of you at the trail the other night, by the way?”

“Keep your mouth shut, Eric,” Morelli says.

Jacobson picks up the remote and hits a button and the music stops. Carefully puts it back on the table. We can all hear the ocean now.

Morelli suddenly tries to lean back in his chair and swipe at my gun at the same time, the dumb bastard. I move back just enough to swing the Glock and hit him with it on the side of his head above his ear.

Old habits.

Never let the other guy get the first swing.

“Tough is still the one with the gun, right, Eric?” I ask.

Morelli is bleeding over the ear as I step back from him.

“Where’s your buddy McKenzie?” I ask.

Jacobson starts to say something. Morelli looks at him and gives a quick shake to his head.

“Away,” Morelli says.

“Permanently, or just temporarily?”

“Away,” Morelli repeats.

“Who sent you two after me?”

Again Morelli gives a quick look to Jacobson and shakes his head. The alpha dog. Maybe like Uncle Bobby was.

I raise the Glock and point it at the tip of his nose. Like that’s the bullseye in the center of the target. It was my father who first taught me how to shoot in high school, not that I’d need to be much of a shot now if he tries anything else.

“If I tell you that, I’m as good as dead,” Morelli says. “We both are.”

“She’s going to find out eventually,” Jacobson says.

“I told you to shut up, Eric!”

The moon above us is as bright as it possibly could be, thesky full of stars. It really is quite beautiful back here, underneath the kind of sky that always seems to get bigger the closer you get to the water. I hear the waves, and the sound of night birds.

“I told you to back off, but you just don’t listen,” Morelli says.

“I’m actually a terrific listener once you get to know me.”

“I left your sister’s house assuming we had an understanding.”

“Actually, we do,” I tell him. “Iamgoing to back off, just like you asked. But before I do, I just needed to take this one last big step forward.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve just got a few questions before we all go our separate ways. Starting with this one: What did you mean about my father?”

He puts his hand to his ear and sees the blood on it when he pulls it away. “I need to put something on this.”

“When I’m gone. Now what did you mean about somebody owing my father a favor?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit you don’t know.”




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