[10 of 11] Lucy’s Rambler was not at Idlewild’s international arrivals. Hammer wanted his Studebaker back like a rodeo bull wants out of a pen. He threw himself into a cab. His ankle still throbbed. She had done him no favors. The driver had a tattoo on his neck. The cab careened on to the Long Island Motor Parkway. Hammer pulled out the envelope from his coat & gingerly slid the stiletto blade to pry open the flap. The driver eyed him in the rearview mirror.
[#11 of ? ] The black iron gates in the Hamptons were tall; the driveway was long before it became a tight circle like a noose. The door was open. The body behind the living room sofa would be easier to explain to the D.A. than the empty envelope to Johnny Rio. Hammer poured a cognac at the bar. Rio’s boys would be there soon. The cab was gone; Melinda, too. They were two stiffs with nowhere to go. The surf pounded the rocks to sand. There would be some swimming. And no pie.
~ Fin
~ series by Jere Fletcher, (c) 2011
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