Killer Swell

I turned around. “What?”

His mouth curled into a disgusted frown, most likely due to the fact that I knew he would never turn down great seats.

“I said,” Minton replied, spi

13

Minton’s statement about a “couple of other things” rang in my ears as I walked back to my car. I tried to remember what else I’d seen when I’d opened the trunk of the car, but the only thing I could recall with any clarity was Kate’s face. I knew there would be no shaking that.

I was pondering that thought when I saw a guy sitting on the hood of my Jeep. He was twirling my radio ante

The guy with the ante

“No,” I said. “Me Tarzan.”

He dropped the ante

His partner rotated his head in my direction, squinting into the morning sunlight. “Very.”

The guy on the Jeep slid off the hood and tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck. He was about my height, with a square head and more fat than muscle. His face was dotted by acne scars, heavier around the chin. His black hair was slicked back off his forehead, so tight it looked like it hurt. He wore a white tank top, black cotton sweats, and construction boots.

He looked again at his partner. “So. We go

Ramon was shorter and dressed a hell of a lot better. He wore a gray silk shirt and black linen slacks, expensive leather huaraches on his feet. His black hair was cut short, long sideburns creeping down his cheeks. A gold hoop dangled fashionably from his left ear. His eyes were flat and cold, like steel.

He held out a hand to his partner. “Easy, Ma

“Yeah, Ma

Ma

Ramon looked at me. “Can I ask why you are here, Mr. Braddock? Visiting the medical examiner?” He spoke softly with a heavy Hispanic accent.

“You can ask. Sure.”

Ramon eyed me for a moment, then a small smile crept onto his lips. “But you won’t answer?”

I shook my head and wrinkled my nose. “Don’t really feel compelled.” I looked at Ma

Ma

“Guys,” I said, preparing for the confrontation. “Sorry, but I can’t hang out with you anymore. Things to do, places to be, you know the deal.”

Ma

I returned the smile. “In about ten seconds, Ma

Ramon shrugged, then nodded at Ma

I stepped back and looked at Ramon. “You next?”

He didn’t look impressed, which concerned me. He cocked his head to the side. “Mr. Braddock. Do you know the name Alejandro Costilla?”

I watched Ma

I looked back at Ramon, trying not to show him anything. “No.”

Ramon let the same small smile I’d seen earlier crawl back on his lips. “You are a liar, Mr. Braddock.”

I picked up my ante

Ramon nodded, shoved his hands in the pockets of his expensive pants, and leaned in the window, so his eyes were at the same level as mine. “Yes, I think you are a liar, Mr. Braddock. But that is your choice.” He turned to Ma

I drove off before he could really scare the crap out of me.

14

“Did you use your Jew Kung Fu?”

Carter was stretched out on one of the deck chairs on my patio, a pair of sunglasses and blue board shorts the only things on his body impeding the rays of the sun. I sat in the chair next to him, recounting my morning, as we watched the sunbathers and tourists stroll by on the boardwalk.

“It’s called Krav Maga, moron,” I replied, irritated by his political incorrectness.

A half-eaten apple rested in his right hand. He waved it in my direction. “Whatever. Did you use it?”

I’d learned Krav Maga from a guy in college in exchange for a six pack and help with a lit paper. I asked him to teach me because I thought it was cool. I didn’t know that it would end up being a highlight on my resume.

“Yeah, I used it. The one guy wasn’t there to fight and the other dude wasn’t a problem,” I told him. “That said, there actually is a big problem.”

Carter sat up in his chair, lifted his sunglasses above his eyes, and let loose an earsplitting whistle that brought the pedestrian traffic on the walk to a halt. He pointed at a woman in a red bikini on rollerblades. “You are hot.”

When her look of alarm disappeared, she gave him a shy grin and continued on her way.

Carter turned to me, dropping the glasses back into place. “Big problem?”

I shaded my eyes against the sunlight. “Alejandro Costilla.”

Carter stopped in mid-bite and lowered the piece of fruit. “Come again?”

“The guys that were waiting on me,” I explained. “Costilla sent them.”

He stared at me for a moment, looked at the apple like it contained poison, then back at me. “Tell me you’re screwing with me, Noah.”