Read Online God of the Dead (Seasons of Blood #1): A dark paranormal crime thriller novel by Elias Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Elias Anderson
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stood.
“What is this?” Vito asked. “Fuckin’ health inspection?”
Finally, the other man spoke. “Can you answer a couple questions for me?”
“That depends on who the hell you are and what the hell you ask me.”
“I’m Detective Quidman. I just got transferred over to work this case. You know, what happened last night?”
Vito stared at him, running everything through his Bullshit-O-Meter, picking his teeth absently with the ever-present toothpick. This guy didn’t look like no cop to him. “You, uh, got a badge there, Detective?”
He pulled his coat to the side. Vito saw the unmistakable gold shield attached to his belt. Maybe the guy was vice.
“Whatcha want?”
“The kid that was attacked, how well do you know him?”
Vito shrugged. “All right I guess. Why? He in some kinda trouble?”
Quidman muttered something that sounded like I hope not .
“Excuse me?” Vito asked.
“I said no, no trouble.” Quidman shook his head.
“Anything else you want?”
“Yeah, what’s his last name?”
“Lancaster.” What the fuck is this? Vito asked himself. What kinda cop doesn’t know the name of the victim in a case he’s working?
At the mention of the name Lancaster, Quidman’s eyebrows hopped up a little.“His name isn’t Munroe?”
“What is this shit? I didn’t say ‘Munroe,’ did I? Jesus.”
“Do you have the tapes from those cameras up there? With what happened on them?”
“ Tapes ?” Vito asked, snorting. “Where you think we are? 1986?”
Quidman stared at him for a long moment, his head cocked to the side a little. Vito shifted from one foot to the other.
“DVDs, then?” Quidman asked.
“Yeah, I got ’em. Why?”
“Give them to me.”
“What for? I already gave ’em to the guy last night,” Vito said. “Officer whoever the fuck. Andrews?”
“We need another copy. The one you gave us was scratched.”
“And they sent a detective all the way back here for one? You must be really lighting up the force, to have them trust you with such an important job.”
“Get me the discs, sir , or I’ll run you in on obstruction charges,” Quidman said.
Vito held his hands up in acquiescence. “Oh, hey, no need for all that, friend. Never let it be said I was the cause of a wagon to be unhitched from so bright a shining star. I’m nothing if not a friend to my fellow working man. Please. Allow me a moment.”
Vito turned and then went into the office to get the discs. He’d already burned an extra for the cops that had been here the night of the attack and had made another besides, and why not? He would need one for the insurance company likely as not, and in the back of his mind he’d probably just known the pigs would manage to fuck it up. As he unlocked the cabinet in his office where the discs were kept Vito wondered again if the kid needed a lawyer. Left to the devices of these shit-heels, he’d probably end up getting the fuckin lethal injection of having the coglioni to defend himself.
Vito grabbed the DVD the stronzo pig was after and went back to the counter, handing it over. Quidman took it from him without a word and left.
“You’re welcome, Detective Fuckbag,” Vito mumbled as he watched the guy walk out the door.
* * * * *
The man who wasn’t Detective Quidman tucked the DVD in one of the many pockets inside his coat as he walked around the corner of the gas station and hopped on his Harley, riding back to his motel.
Lancaster? Could that be right? The kid had to be a Munroe. He’d never heard of the wrong person being attacked before, not even this early in.
Back at his seedy motel, he popped the disc into the player that had probably only been used for porn flicks up until now. He used the fast forward until he found what he was looking for. He only needed to watch the entire scene once but replayed it over and over. Though he recognized something the kid’s lineage in his face—something in the nose, perhaps--this was of small
“What is this?” Vito asked. “Fuckin’ health inspection?”
Finally, the other man spoke. “Can you answer a couple questions for me?”
“That depends on who the hell you are and what the hell you ask me.”
“I’m Detective Quidman. I just got transferred over to work this case. You know, what happened last night?”
Vito stared at him, running everything through his Bullshit-O-Meter, picking his teeth absently with the ever-present toothpick. This guy didn’t look like no cop to him. “You, uh, got a badge there, Detective?”
He pulled his coat to the side. Vito saw the unmistakable gold shield attached to his belt. Maybe the guy was vice.
“Whatcha want?”
“The kid that was attacked, how well do you know him?”
Vito shrugged. “All right I guess. Why? He in some kinda trouble?”
Quidman muttered something that sounded like I hope not .
“Excuse me?” Vito asked.
“I said no, no trouble.” Quidman shook his head.
“Anything else you want?”
“Yeah, what’s his last name?”
“Lancaster.” What the fuck is this? Vito asked himself. What kinda cop doesn’t know the name of the victim in a case he’s working?
At the mention of the name Lancaster, Quidman’s eyebrows hopped up a little.“His name isn’t Munroe?”
“What is this shit? I didn’t say ‘Munroe,’ did I? Jesus.”
“Do you have the tapes from those cameras up there? With what happened on them?”
“ Tapes ?” Vito asked, snorting. “Where you think we are? 1986?”
Quidman stared at him for a long moment, his head cocked to the side a little. Vito shifted from one foot to the other.
“DVDs, then?” Quidman asked.
“Yeah, I got ’em. Why?”
“Give them to me.”
“What for? I already gave ’em to the guy last night,” Vito said. “Officer whoever the fuck. Andrews?”
“We need another copy. The one you gave us was scratched.”
“And they sent a detective all the way back here for one? You must be really lighting up the force, to have them trust you with such an important job.”
“Get me the discs, sir , or I’ll run you in on obstruction charges,” Quidman said.
Vito held his hands up in acquiescence. “Oh, hey, no need for all that, friend. Never let it be said I was the cause of a wagon to be unhitched from so bright a shining star. I’m nothing if not a friend to my fellow working man. Please. Allow me a moment.”
Vito turned and then went into the office to get the discs. He’d already burned an extra for the cops that had been here the night of the attack and had made another besides, and why not? He would need one for the insurance company likely as not, and in the back of his mind he’d probably just known the pigs would manage to fuck it up. As he unlocked the cabinet in his office where the discs were kept Vito wondered again if the kid needed a lawyer. Left to the devices of these shit-heels, he’d probably end up getting the fuckin lethal injection of having the coglioni to defend himself.
Vito grabbed the DVD the stronzo pig was after and went back to the counter, handing it over. Quidman took it from him without a word and left.
“You’re welcome, Detective Fuckbag,” Vito mumbled as he watched the guy walk out the door.
* * * * *
The man who wasn’t Detective Quidman tucked the DVD in one of the many pockets inside his coat as he walked around the corner of the gas station and hopped on his Harley, riding back to his motel.
Lancaster? Could that be right? The kid had to be a Munroe. He’d never heard of the wrong person being attacked before, not even this early in.
Back at his seedy motel, he popped the disc into the player that had probably only been used for porn flicks up until now. He used the fast forward until he found what he was looking for. He only needed to watch the entire scene once but replayed it over and over. Though he recognized something the kid’s lineage in his face—something in the nose, perhaps--this was of small
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