Savage code, p.30
Savage Code, page 30
part #4 of The Porter Series
“I don’t know… I mean, what do I say…”
“Don’t say anything,” Porter said. He stood from the chair and set his card in her lap, along with the envelope of money. “Just in case you don’t have my number anymore. I’m good for the money. Call me when you get home.”
He turned to leave the room.
“Wait. You forgot your picture.”
Porter turned back and reached his hand out, taking the picture from the girl.
“Look at it outside. I can’t watch people look at my stuff.”
Porter nodded and left the room, not looking back at Daisy. He walked a few feet down the hallway, then looked left and right, making sure no one was around, and turned the piece of paper over.
It was a picture of him, a portrait of his face. His beard was detailed down to the last strand of hair; his cheeks and nose were perfect. The most amazing part was his eyes. They were dangerous and friendly all at once, and Porter stared at himself for several minutes.
He looked away from the portrait long enough to push the button on the elevator and get into the cab. Porter was looking at the picture again as the door closed.
“It’s not my damn fault. I got shot in the guts, remember?”
“I’m only saying, the number of times that you have to pee is crazy. We stopped six times on the way here,” Porter said.
“Come on… it wasn’t that bad, was it?”
Porter looked down at Rivera seated on the heavy chair next to him and smiled. “Nah. You’re good. I figure if anybody’s earned the right to an extra bathroom break, it’s you.”
She stood up, gingerly pushing back the rubber chair. “Good. Don’t forget, you owe me. I paid for the hotel room, and the amount you and Big Harsh charged for room service was enough to bankrupt a normal person.” Rivera walked away from the table, across the rock-hard floor and toward the rear wall where the bathrooms were.
“Don’t blame me; put that on Harsh. The guy can eat like a machine.”
“He’s your friend,” she said over her shoulder. “You’re responsible.”
“What else is new?” Porter muttered to himself. He watched her as she disappeared into the room. For all his harassment, he could understand. That she was able to function, and nearly at full capacity, so soon was amazing to him.
A few extra pee breaks were worth it to still have her around.
Porter looked around, trying not to get hives from the prison. He hadn’t been there long, but it was already long enough. He wanted out.
Before he could grow any more frustrated with the thick doors and bulletproof glass all around him, a door at the far end of the room hissed and slid open.
No guard accompanied Clive Michelson. He walked over, looking as thin and dangerous as ever. He pulled a chair back from the round table, and helped himself to it.
“Mr. Smith. It is very nice to see you.”
“I’m not gonna pretend I feel the same way.”
“Fair enough. Where is the lovely detective? I was told she was here as well.”
“First off, you’d better never let her hear you call her lovely. Second, she had to see a man about a horse.”
“I’m sorry?” Michaelson said, an upturned lilt in his voice.
“See a man about a horse? You never heard that before?”
“I’m afraid not. That must be a uniquely American turn of phrase.”
“I’m not explaining, look it up later.”
Michelson nodded to Porter’s hand, wrapped in an extra thick cast. “Have you had an accident?”
“Smashed my fourth and fifth metacarpals. Got a couple of plates in there now, holding everything together. Doc says it’ll heal, but I have to stop using it for a while.”
Michelson nodded. “I suppose I should say thank you. My brother is safe and the threat has dissipated. Although I had rather expected things to return to normal, rather than ending with Royce in a foster home. He is stuck there until he is eighteen.”
“Just the cost of business. At least Nico Spirelli didn’t cut his balls off and mail them to you.”
“I think the same as well. While it is not the best-case scenario, you did keep your end of the bargain. I’m ready to talk about so, so many people. Who they are. Where they operate. The volume at which they traffic. I know everything, Mr. Smith. I hope you have a pen.”
“Detective Rivera has a recorder. Don’t worry, we won’t miss a thing. Let’s wait until she gets back.”
Michelson nodded.
“Until then,” Porter said as he leaned across the table, “you can open that smarmy trap of yours and tell me what I want to know.”
“Reno?”
“Yep. I’m sure all the info you have for Rivera will be a gold mine—hell, it better be. But I want to know about Reno—his people, his organization, all of it. You feel me?”
“He was my biggest competitor. I have nothing but contempt for him and all his people. There is no reason for me to hold anything back. Still, he isn’t alive anymore.”
Porter gritted his teeth. “Oh yeah? How do you know that?”
“I have many people I can call and ask things, Mr. Smith. It was a very small matter to find out that Reno and some of his best men were killed several weeks ago. I assume you had nothing to do with that, correct?”
“Not a thing. Just like I don’t have anything to do with taking this here cast and bashing your head off this stainless steel table if you don’t start talking. Sometimes things just happen.”
“No need for threats, Mr. Smith. I will tell you everything about the men you are after. I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it.”
Porter looked back toward the door. It was shut and there was nobody else around. “Good. Tell me everything you know. Don’t leave anything out.”
Want More Porter? Cold Comfort Is Waiting…
A missing girl. A small town. Is Porter tough enough to crack the ice?
Porter always finds his target, no matter the cost. Fresh off a job, he thinks he’s ready to chill, but an encounter with a ghost from his past leaves him shaken. Now, he must decide if he’s ready to head for warmer weather, or get back to work, and help a new friend find her missing daughter…
In the heartland, there is no love. As the weather closes in around him, Porter follows leads while dodging bizarre cultists, lazy cops, and a bloodthirsty ex-con with a particular set of skills. The harder they try to keep him from the truth, the harder he pushes. But will he go too far, risking his life, and the life of a girl he’s determined to save…
Cold Comfort is the gritty fifth book in the series of standalone crime thrillers. If you like unstoppable heroes, no-win decisions, and insurmountable odds, you’ll love R.A. McGee’s action-packed tale.
Buy Cold Comfort to get more of the chilling, non-stop thrill ride today!
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Sign up to my mailing list and you’ll always be the first to know about my upcoming novels, as well as great deals on other books I find out about. As a bonus, you’ll receive the Porter novella- Subtle Deceit- absolutely free. Interested? Check out the description below…
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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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.
info@ramcgee.com
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R A McGee, Savage Code
