Free The Debt Collector (Book 1 of a Jack Winchester Organized Crime Action Thriller) (Jack Winchester Vigilante Justice Thriller Series) by Jon Mills Page B

finished, he asked for the money.
    “Test the rest,” Jack said.
    “What?”
    “Gafino wants it all tested.”
    Jack noticed his hesitancy as he reached over and grabbed a couple of packages.
    “All of it.”
    “That’s not the deal. I’ve shown you it’s legit.”
    “Do we have a problem?” Jack answered.
    Matt and the thug by the door exchanged a nervous glance. Jack’s eyes darted between them. Matt’s motion to grab another package was slow, but it wasn’t a package he was going for. Buried beneath the first layer of packages was a handgun. Out the corner of his eye, Jack spotted the thug reach for his own gun. In that instant, firearms unloaded and a hail of bullets shattered the room around them. As the thug dropped, Jack turned back and noticed that Matt had already vanished out of the half open window. The noise of feet clattering up against the steps of the steel ladder made Jack dash to the window. He fell back as a snap of bullets barely missed him. Reluctantly stepping outside, he grimaced, looking ten stories down. With little thought to his own safety he ascended the steps two at a time until he reached the top. He was fully aware that Matt had the advantage, and within a matter of minutes the place would be crawling with cops, but he couldn’t let him get away. He fired a few rounds over the edge of the building and clambered quickly over onto the roof’s surface. Rolling behind an air vent, he caught sight of Matt double-timing it toward the far side.
    He was going to jump.
    This guy was as crazy as hell. Hauling himself up, he darted in Matt’s direction, raising his gun in hopes he could get a bullet in him before he took the leap. Zeroing in on Matt, he fired once, then again. The first missed and by the time the second one hit him, he was already in a midair vault between buildings. When he landed, Jack heard the sounds of sirens. He watched as Matt limped away, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the opposite stairwell.
    It was the look of fear in the man’s eyes that Jack would never forget.
    The next thing he knew, two cops were shouting at him to drop the gun and get on the ground. Jack turned, releasing his grip on the weapon and getting into a spread eagle. He spat gravel as they cuffed him.
    All things considered, he got off lightly; the thug hadn’t died from the gunshot wound and there was only a little amount of real cocaine on scene. Jack got the minimum sentence with the assistance of a dubious lawyer on Gafino’s payroll.

    * * *
    A t The Thistle Inn , he’d spent the first half an hour at the bar observing the comings and goings of locals. The establishment appeared to draw in all types of people, young and old. Some ate, others danced, and a few gathered at the bar. Dimly-lit antique lights illuminated small leather booths filled with families and couples. At the far end of the room there were two pool tables, a cluster of slot machines, and a door that led out to a set of washrooms. In the corner, a colorful retro jukebox played everything from old sixties hits to the modern day noise they called music.
    Any number of people might have seen Matt Grant that night. He’d known that if anyone would remember Grant coming in, it would have been the bartender, a fat guy with salt and pepper hair. As conversation flowed, he soon learned his name was Alan Nock, the owner and only bartender at the Inn besides the one that came in on the weekends. At first it was all casual small talk about the area, passing comments as Alan refilled patrons’ glasses and wiped down the mahogany bar. Eventually Jack dropped Matt’s name. While Alan didn’t appear to register what he had said, a middle-aged man wearing a Yankees baseball cap at the far end of the bar had.
    The man went from being captivated by the ball game playing on the overhead television to curiously glancing over. After that, Alan began questioning him. Had Jack known him? Jack replied that