Free The Body Market: A Leine Basso Thriller by D.V. Berkom Page A

captive was overweight with virtually no muscle tone, Leine relaxed slightly, allowing the adrenaline in her body to ebb. He probably wasn’t somebody’s enforcer. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer mixed with sweat and body odor wafted between them. Not a pleasant combination.
    “Why are you following me?” she asked as her gaze cut to the alley entrance and back again.
    “Let me go and I’ll tell you,” he said, panting. He inched away from the knife, attempting to become one with the wall. “I have information.”
    “How about you tell me, and if I like your answer you live,” she replied. “And stop moving. This knife is hella sharp.”
    He stopped moving.
    Leine sighed and glanced at her watch. I haven’t got time for this. “Let’s try something simple. What’s your name?”
    “Willy. Willy Flint. You may have heard of my blog—Flint’s Stones?”
    “Doesn’t ring a bell.” She pushed his arm a few inches higher, eliciting a grunt of pain. “Why are you following me, Willy Flint?” she repeated, watching the entrance.
    He turned his head so his cheek rested flat against the wall. “I heard you asking the bartender in the Manatee about those two kids.”
    “You were the one drinking a beer at the bar.”
    ow
    Willy nodded, his breath coming out in a wheeze. Leine let up on the pressure slightly.
    “How long have you been following me?” she asked. How did she not notice him?
    “Jorge told me he sent you to the Gypsy.”
    “Why would Jorge tell you anything?”
    Willy hesitated. Leine gave his arm a twist.
    “I told him I wanted to ask you for a date.”
    Is this guy for real?
    “Why not tell him you had information?” she asked.
    “I can’t just tell everybody what I know. It’s very sensitive.”
    “Such as?”
    “Let me go and I’ll tell you.”
    She gave his arm another push. Willy gasped in pain.
    “Okay, okay. I have a friend,” he said, between breaths. “In the police department. He told me everything.”
    “And?”
    “I know about the cell phone and the blood.” Willy closed his eyes and tried to swallow.
    Leine backed off a little more, releasing some of the pressure. “And you want to help me, why exactly?”
    “Why else?” he replied. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Money. I saw you slip some to the guy in the Gypsy and figured there was more where that came from.”
    “I take it Flint’s Stones isn’t cutting it on the affiliate links.”
    “Ha ha. Very funny.”
    “What makes you think I gave him money?”
    “What else would you slide across the counter that would give somebody a shit-eating grin?”
    “He’s an old friend.”
    “Right. An old friend who just happens to be a bartender who works Saturdays at the Blue Manatee.”
    Leine released her hold. He started to turn but she stopped him. “Stay where you are and put your hands on your head.”
    Willy slowly raised his hands. Holding the knife in her right hand Leine frisked him with her left. When she didn’t find any weapons, she stepped back.
    “You can turn around,” she said.
    Willy faced her and leaned against the wall, his gaze riveted on the knife as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.
    “What’re you going to do with that?” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.
    Leine glanced at the knife and back at him.
    “That depends on you,” she answered.
    He visibly swallowed. “I suppose you want me to tell you what information I was referring to earlier?”
    Leine blinked. How drunk is this guy? “You’re wasting my time.”
    He hesitated.
    What the hell is he waiting for?
    Money. This idiot still thinks I’m going to pay him. Wow. She shook her head.
    “Listen, Willy. You made the mistake of following me ,” she said, making sure she enunciated the words slowly. “Now, I know you aren’t familiar with the way I work, but that isn’t how I do things. You’ll be lucky to walk away from this encounter with your appendages intact, so