Both of them went down, and Jack scooped the ball up and slammed it into Sutton’s face as he looked up at him. The basketball hit him square on the nose, busting it wide open and causing it to gush red.
Back and forth they went, punishing each other, each time trying to one-up the other.
Punching the ribs, kicking the face and pushing team members into each other.
While this was occurring, Jack’s team was winning.
Eventually someone blew a whistle, and told them to head on in.
Out of breath, Jack placed his hands on his knees. He glanced up in time to see someone slip a shank into someone else’s hand, who then passed it to Sutton. He tossed the ball with one hand to distract the others and then surged forward towards Jack.
Jack sidestepped, spun and drove his foot into his gut before Sutton could get close enough to lash out. Unfortunately, Sutton was faster and grabbed his leg and sliced his calf. He dropped in agony and gripped his leg just as Sutton came at him again. All the while the rest of the crowd were oblivious except for Rocket Man.
Out of the blue he came barreling over and tackled Sutton from the side, sending him away from Jack. They landed hard and rolled. The shank slid across the ground and before anyone could scoop it up, Porter rushed in.
“What do we have here? This yours, Winchester?”
“No.”
“Oh I think it is. Get up!”
Jack glanced at Rocket Man who shouted. “It’s mine,” he said taking the fall.
“Bullshit. Get inside.”
Jack stumbled towards the door only to have Porter place a hand on his chest “Not you. You wait here.”
Sutton scoffed and walked on shoving Rocket Man out of the way and telling him he would pay later. Jack could only imagine what that meant.
“But my leg—”
They ignored him. He remained outside until everyone was in before Porter strong-armed him in. “You just don’t learn, do you, Winchester?”
“It’s not mine.”
“No. Like that baton wasn’t yours.” Porter laughed as he escorted him to the seclusion room, pulling his card so the alarms rang out and security showed up. He made up some bogus claim that the shank was his, a piece of filed-down door hinge. It was his word against Jack’s.
Tossed into seclusion, and forced to take another dose of Haldol, he could see where this was going. Angelo wanted him to go through a cycle of suffering. Pain, humiliation, seclusion. Anything that could give them reason to keep him longer. Two strikes against him. He thought back to what Cowboy said. The only way he was getting out of here was in a body bag.
12
“He went home early,” the secretary for Douglas Sanders said. Dalton shot Kelly a glance and she turned to the young, short-haired woman with oversize fingernails. Something made her look as if she’d just taken the job. Too much makeup. A little ditsy for an attorneys’ office. Unless of course one of them was sleeping with her.
“Did he say why?” Kelly asked.
The secretary leaned forward giving Dalton and Zach an eyeful. “He wasn’t feeling well.”
“He wouldn’t have received a phone call this morning, would he?” Dalton asked.
“Yes, he did, it was…” She paused and frowned. “Who did you say you were?”
“A friend of his uncle. Pat. He recently passed away, God rest his soul,” Kelly said. “I tried to get in contact with Doug but with him changing address and all, I figured I could reach him here.” She shortened his name to give her a sense that they were pals, old friends.
“I’m afraid you just missed him. But if you check back tomorrow, I’m sure—”
Kelly grimaced. “Unfortunately the funeral is tomorrow.” She let out a heavy sigh and gave her best performance, pulling out some tissues and dabbing the corners of her eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to have his address, would you?”
“Mr. Sanders would be pretty mad if I gave that out.”
“It’s for his uncle.”
“Sorry. I can’t help. Privacy and such.”
She nodded. “Pity, they were so close. I know his family would have been pleased to see him.” Kelly tapped the front desk. “Thank you for your time.”
Kelly gestured to the other two to head towards the exit. She’d only taken a few steps when the woman spoke up. “Look. Wait. Um.” A few seconds longer than she thought it would take but it worked. “I can’t give out his address but…” She pulled up a piece of paper and scribbled down a phone number. “If you’re having difficulties getting through to his cell phone, you can try the home number.” She tore off the sticky note and handed it to Kelly.
“Bless your heart, darlin’. Dougy should consider himself very fortunate to have someone like you working for him.”
“You think?” she asked, too young and naïve to be sure of her worth.
“Oh, positive.” Kelly held the number in the air and smiled before leaving the upscale office located on the east side of town. Outside, she pulled out her phone.
“Even if he answers he won’t give us the time of day,” Dalton said shaking his head.
Zach knew better. “Looks like I underestimated you, grasshopper. You took a page right out of my book.” He turned to Dalton. “She’s not going to call the number but perform a reverse address lookup.”
His brow raised.
She nodded as she thumbed her phone and leaned against the SUV.
It took her less than two minutes. Dalton watched over her shoulder as she brought up a website and tapped in the number. One click later and there it was, Sanders’ home address, even the latitude and longitude with directions to get there.
“That sob story you gave. You reporters really are something else.”
“Gal’s got to make a living,” she said with a wink.
They hopped into the vehicle and made their way over to the west side. Sanders lived on River Street West in a gorgeous nineteenth century home that overlooked the Susquehanna River. A sharp black Audi was parked in the driveway with
