Free J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 02 - No Time to Die by J.D. Trafford

boys, well, he’s a really bad boy.”
    “ Who?” Jane asked.
    “ Muchacho named Dylan.” Kermit’s narrowed his eyes and touched his nose. “We got to find out more about him.”

Jane picked up her beer.
    “Sounds like a plan,” she said, taking a sip, “assuming I don’t get shut down first.”
    And I don’t get arrested , Michael thought.
     

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    Michael sat at the cheap desk in his motel room. It was late. He was tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to pass out. So he sat and stared at the photograph of his namesake, the Irish revolutionary Michael John Collins.
    As a boy, his mother had three pictures hanging on the wall of their old apartment. The first two were pictures of Pope John Paul II and President John F. Kennedy. The third photograph was of Michael John Collins. After his mother died, Michael took it with him. Then he kept it when he left everything else behind for Mexico. It was one of the few things that he had kept from his former life.
    There was something about the photo that gave him strength.
    The Michael John Collins in the photograph spent most of his life on the run, fighting the British and trying to unify Ireland. After he negotiated the peace deal that split the country in two, allowing the British to keep control of Northern Ireland, he was killed by one of his own.
    Michael stared at the photograph and wondered how long he was going to last.
    Michael wasn’t a fan of Jesser, but felt himself getting sucked in. He wanted to help, but what could he really do? He wasn’t going to anonymously give money to Jane’s little non-profit. He had done that already donations almost cost him Father Stiles and Father Stiles had still almost lost his parish. His secret bailout of the Sunset had cost him Andie. He couldn’t go down that path again, not with the feds getting so close.
    It’d just turn all bad. Bad luck followed him.
    Michael looked up from the photograph. He opened the window shade a crack.
    Across the street sat the dark blue Ford Taurus with two people inside. It was the same car he had seen the first night he and Kermit checked into the motel. It was the same one he had seen down the street from Jane’s office.
    He had to get out of Jesser. He had to go home.
    Michael looked at the photograph on the desk. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
    I’ll leave , he thought, just not yet . A few more days.
     

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    The view was lovely. The lawyer was late.
    Brian and Dylan McNaughten sat on the deck of the Everglade Boat and Yacht Club, overlooking Naples Bay.
    It was breakfast time at the club, which was Dylan’s favorite, but he was still in a bad mood. He ordered another Bloody Mary and headed to the omelet station where a young Hispanic woman was waiting to serve. She had 15 different ingredients to choose from. Each one – from green peppers to ham to broccoli florets – were meticulously displayed on the table in front of her.
    He looked them over, never a smile. Dylan barked an order, and then he returned to his seat.
    “ I’m hung-over.” Dylan looked around. “And where’s my bloody?”
    “ It’s coming.” Brian exhibited patience that only came from experience. “So I take it from the way that you’re dressed and your current condition that you are not coming in to work today.”
    “ Is that a statement or question?”
    “ A statement, hoping for a response.”
    But Dylan didn’t respond, and so Brian continued.
    “You know,” Brian said, “the way to avoid being hung-over is simply not to drink heavily the night before.”
    Dylan rolled his eyes.
    “Whatever.” He waved his brother off. “I do my thing and you do yours.” Dylan saw a waiter with his drink. He held out his hand, and the waiter dutifully handed the glass of vodka and tomato juice to Dylan and disappeared.
    Dylan took out the decorative stick of fruit and drank. Now satisfied with the day’s first taste of