by R. A. McGee
“For?”
“The kid. The case. Everything.”
“Don’t mention it. Just know you owe me.”
“Big time,” Rivera said.
“I gotta go. Good luck with the crime-fighting, Christina Rivera. Tell Kevin I said hello.”
“Thanks for finally getting my name right. Asshole.”
Sixty-Five
Ten days had passed since Danisha Hill had walked into the police station. She’d become something of a minor celebrity. The news stations all reported on the missing girl who had miraculously turned up at a police station. The chief of police held a press conference to talk about the event—which was useless, as he knew nothing, but he couldn’t resist an opportunity for some good press for both him and his department. There weren’t any interviews with Danisha or Miss Leona. No news crew would go into the Acres for the story. They were all too scared.
Porter drove his Yukon up the main dividing line of the Acres and parked in the same spot he’d parked the first time he’d rolled into the neighborhood. He didn’t expect to have any trouble this time.
Jamal and Terrell were in their usual spot. Porter pulled a large box out of his trunk. It was from one of those online retailers, and it was heavy, even for him. He struggled to carry it over to the two men and set it down. They each gave Porter the kind of half-handshake, half-hug that tough guys do.
“Porter. What’s good?” Jamal said.
“I’m not a corny-ass bill collector anymore?”
“I already told your ass you weren’t no bill collector, we know that for a fact. But you still dress kinda corny.” Jamal smiled at Porter.
“Things been quiet, I assume?”
“Yeah, ever since we… had a meeting with the other guys,” Jamal said, looking around conspiratorially, “things have been quiet. Everybody’s fallen in line. No beef.”
“Good. And our friends?”
“I don’t know what friends you mean. All I know is there were some gators down in Alligator Alley who ate real good a while back. Real good, you feel me?”
“I figured you guys had a way. I need to see Miss Leona. And Danny. Any issues with me going back?”
“Nah. You know the way,” Jamal said. “Damn glad little Danny’s back.”
“Me too,” Porter said, volunteering nothing. He heaved the large box into his arms again and walked the well-trod path, through the graffitied walls and clotheslines, back to Miss Leona’s house. Hands full, he gently kicked at the door. Porter felt bad, but what else could he do? There was no chance he’d be able to pick the box up again once he put it down.
After a few moments, Miss Leona answered. When she opened the door, her face lit up. She hugged Porter as best she could around the box.
“Miss Leona. Think I could put this down and then we finish this hug?”
“Sure, baby, sure. Come on in.” She held the door open while trying to stand as far out of the way as she could.
Porter took a few steps into the small apartment’s sitting room, not stopping until he’d passed the kitchen and made it to the living room. He set the box down, careful to avoid breaking the coffee table. Once it was safely out of his hands, Miss Leona attacked him. She was surprisingly strong for an old woman. The hug lasted nearly a minute; longer than a hug should have been, but Porter didn’t mind. She pulled away and motioned to the box. “What’s this?”
“Is Danny here?” Porter said.
“Yes, she’s in her room. I kept her out of school again. She hasn’t wanted to go back on the bus, even though it’s a new bus driver. I don’t blame her.”
“I understand. Mind if she comes out here?”
Miss Leona called her granddaughter, and she came bounding around the corner. “Yes, Granny…” She stopped when she saw Porter.
Being with her grandmother had done her well. Her clothes were clean and contemporary, and her hair was shiny and pulled back into an intricate pattern of braids.
“Hi, Danny,” Porter said.
“Sir,” she said.
“If your grandmother doesn’t mind, I have something for you,” Porter said. He looked at Miss Leona, who nodded. Danny walked over to the coffee table and sat on top of it, nearest to the box. Porter pulled the box flaps open to reveal a treasure trove of DVDs. “I got you everything I could find with a princess or cartoon animal. I know you told my friend you liked them.”
Danny’s eyes lit up, and she started digging through the box’s contents. Underneath the DVDs were a small television, a PlayStation, and boxes of Barbies, toy ponies, and princesses. The tiny girl bounced up and down, clutching a plush doll.
Porter looked at Miss Leona. “Take no offense to this, please?”
“Offense to what, baby?”
“I noticed your television is old. Older than old. It’s ancient, really,” Porter said.
Miss Leona laughed. “That it is, baby, but it usually gets the job done.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’m having another one delivered. You gonna be around this afternoon?”
“Shoot, if I wasn’t, I am now,” she said.
Porter turned to Danny. “What are you going to watch first?”
“What are we going to watch, you mean.”
“You want me to watch a movie with you?” Porter said.
“Don’t you like princesses?”
Porter picked up a DVD box and turned it over. “I think maybe I can learn.”
“Good. Plus, I don’t know how to put any of this stuff together,” Danny said waving at the television and PlayStation.
Porter smiled and began unboxing items. He could think of few better ways to spend an afternoon.
Epilogue
Porter, exhausted from an afternoon of princesses and castles and Spongebob, was recovering in his backyard with Ross. Danny’s appetite for movies had far outpaced his own, and eventually he’d begged off, but not before buying pizza for the household.
“What’d she say when you told her?”
“I thought the old lady was going to have a heart attack,” Porter said.
“Good.”
“Good that she almost had a heart attack?”
“No, dick, good that you did it. I wasn’t so sure,” Ross said.
“You thought I’d keep Schmidt’s money? And you call yourself my best friend.”
“I know how much you like money,” Ross said.
Porter shrugged.
They were quiet for a few moments as they sipped their drinks. Porter had decided on a screwdriver. He wanted to take no chances with a hangover.
“You sure the accounts are set up? Non-traceable?” Porter said.
“Clean as a whistle. Listen, man, this is what I do. You worry about setting buildings on fire, I’ll worry about the accounting. What’d you tell Miss Leona?”
“I told her there were a bunch of donations that had poured in after people heard Danny’s story. That you were managing the money in a trust, but that for all intents and purposes, it was hers and Danny’s. Then I strongly advised her to move and put Danny in a private school.”
“Did she listen?” Ross said.
“I think so. She got out the phone book and started looking at apartments while I was there, but I think you may need to call her and point her in the right direction. Hire a moving company to help her. They don’t have much, but the TV that showed up is a team-lift kind of situation.”
Ross laughed and drank deeply from his glass.
“You sure that money’ll last?”
“It’ll last. With interest and if she’s judicious with it, it’ll probably get Danny through a couple years of college before it runs out,” Ross said.
“Good. Miss Leona is frugal. She won’t blow it.”
“I know she won’t. She’s an honest person. You know what I didn’t tell you?”
Porter looked at him and sipped his drink.
“Before you went over there to see them, during those ten days?”
“Yeah?
” Porter said.
“Miss Leona called me several times. She wanted your phone number. She wanted to get a hold of you.”
“I’m sure she wanted to say thank you. She hugged me pretty tight,” Porter said.
“No. She wanted to give you the seven hundred and fifty dollar reward money. All of it. She said ‘a deal’s a deal,’ and she’s a woman of her word.”
“She tried to give it to me when I was at her apartment today. It was all I could do to convince her I wouldn’t take it,” Porter said.
“You could have taken it, just to save a little face. Slip it to me and I’d put it in their trust fund. Sometimes old people get insulted if you don’t take their money. They may not have a lot, but it’s important to them.”
“Nah. I can’t take money from that old woman. Money isn’t everything, Ross.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Never is a long time.”
The End
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Tracking down a missing person takes a brilliant mind and bloody knuckles…
Porter has no match when it comes to tracking down a target. The former federal agent has built a business gathering leads from missing persons posters… if the reward is enough to line his pockets…
When Porter finds a potentially profitable case in the disappearance of a free-spirited co-ed, he never expects the father to offer a double reward if the girl is found in 24 hours. In a race against time, the former agent follows a twisted trail of frat boys, ex-lovers, and a vengeful crime boss. Porter vows to get to the truth before the day is through, no matter how much pain he needs to cause to get the job done…
Subtle Deceit is a gripping crime thriller novella that packs a psychological punch. If you like brutal action, a diverse cast of characters, and edge-of-your-seat suspense, then you’ll love RA McGee’s compelling tale.
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Moving Target
Maybe you have already read Subtle Deceit and you need more. You’ve come to the right place! The next in the Porter series is right here. Check out Moving Target :
A clan of drug pushers. A high-profile hostage. To track down his target, he’ll cover the mountains in blood.
As a former federal agent, Porter does his best work outside the law. So when his friend from the FBI calls in a favor with a hefty reward, Porter heads straight for the heart of the Appalachians. Since by-the-books tactics failed to bring home an agent’s abducted daughter, Porter gets free reign to crack skulls and take names while the agency looks the other way.
Deep in the heart of the mountains, Porter matches wits and muscle with rowdy bikers, money-hungry dealers, and a vicious Mexican cartel. As the chase for the kidnappers kicks into high gear, he’ll need to strike fast to secure his payday… and save the hostage’s life.
Moving Target is the second novel in an exhilarating series of crime thrillers. If you like unflinching action, gritty heroes, and white-knuckle suspense, then you’ll love RA McGee’s vicious rescue mission.
Buy Moving Target to follow the trail of broken bones to a brutal, psychological thriller today!
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About the Author
I’m a lifelong fan of stories and reading. Because of this, I decided to channel that passion into storytelling. In the simplest terms, this is what motivated me to become a writer. I strive to write books that I think are fun to read, with action and violence and memorable characters.
I live with my patient wife, who happily reads the first draft of everything I come up with, and waits supportively when I bang my head against the wall hoping ideas fall out. Together, we corral our small tribe of children, who threaten to overrun us at any point and start a Lord of The Flies type society.
I love to talk with readers. Feel free to reach out if you’d like to chat about my books, someone else’s books, comic books, Denzel Washington’s movie The Book of Eli, Booker T. Washington, a book you wanted to write in fourth grade but never got around to, booking a flight, problems with your bookie, or any other book related topic. Except book reports. Screw book reports.
Best,
R.A.
ramcgee.com
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