by Phil Nova
The front page of the newspaper read, man accused of bribery drops dead in midtown. The article said that Bradley Bedford had just gotten out of jail and was on his way to a lunch meeting when he dropped dead of a blood pressure induced stroke on the sidewalk.
Joe now knew that it was Bradley who had sent him that email.
He wondered if they would try to come after him again. He didn’t think so, but he planned on beefing up the security at his house and at his mother’s house, just in case.
While sipping his second cup of coffee, Joe checked his email, then began to sort through the documents for Richie’s case.
Michelle came into the room, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat in the chair next to him. “We have to talk.”
Joe put his computer into sleep mode, then turned to Michelle and said, “About?”
“About your steroid use, first of all.”
Joe chuckled while putting his empty coffee cup into the sink. “You’ve been watching too many of those after school specials, and besides, I’m not a cop anymore. Doesn’t that make you feel better?” He sat back down next to her.
Michelle said, “And what about world war three out there in your living room? What if I’m here one night and they break in and kill us both?”
“They’re not coming back.”
“How do you know? I don’t think I can deal with this.” She stood. “I have to work tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
Joe didn’t say anything. The ball was in her court.
Michelle walked out of the kitchen.
He started up his computer and tried to concentrate on Richie’s case again.
