The Beasts of Juarez R.B. Schow (reading the story of the .TXT) 📖

the trigger from behind the thick walls of his ivory tower, none of his team would respect him. So now he was going to get his hands dirty. He was going to be one of them just to see how it felt, to see if he could do it. First things first, he had to make good on his word. Picking up the phone, he dialed Scotty Chase, the detective he had on retainer.

“Leopold,” Scotty said after picking up. He sounded tired. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“It’s time,” Leopold said.

“We’re back on with Alabama Hargrove?” he asked with a yawn.

“I told you before that you’re working as long as Atlas is working, but that’s changed. This guy is a wrecking ball aimed in the right direction. He gets results. He wants you to get results, too. I need you to unleash your inner beast and find this girl.”

“I’ve never half-assed it before,” Scotty said, waking up but still sounding…off. “You can’t rush stakeouts or just beat information out of people. It’s delicate, Leopold. And patience is the order of the day.”

“The beauty about me is that I don’t have to care about that. The other beauty is I’m paying you, which makes me a client, your best one. I won’t tell you to work harder, or find her faster, not without compensation. So here it is, if you find her before Atlas is done doing what he needs to do, then I will send you an additional one hundred thousand dollars.”

“Jesus, Leopold,” Scotty said a little miffed. It sounded like he was getting out of bed. In his defense, it was early. “Why don’t you make it a million?”

“How about I make it fifty grand?” Leopold grumbled.

“It won’t matter,” Scotty said yawning again then accidentally burping. “I already said you can’t rush these things. But I will tell you this. I’ll work with the idea that I’m going to get that bonus.”

“You need money, Scotty,” Leopold said. “I have other people, folks who keep tabs on my team. You’re part of the team.”

“I would’ve told you that if you would have asked, Leopold.”

“What’s going on with you?”

“COVID put sugar in my gas tank, so to speak,” he said, attempting to sound awake. “And the one job I got to keep me afloat? Well, that went belly up and so now it’s just you and me.”

“What about your wife’s job?” he asked. Scotty laughed. Leopold offered him a single warning. “I had one hell of a night, Scotty.”

“I did as well, but that’s another story for another time. When do I get started? Because if I don’t get started now, I’m going to pass back out in my own stink.”

Leopold shook his head, completely disappointed. Keeping a grip on his temper, he asked, “Do you have enough money left over from the monthly retainer to bring your investigator back into the fold?”

“I’ll need some help on that.”

“I’m going to deposit another twenty-five grand into your account,” he said with a sigh. “I want him on the job. I’m not letting Atlas down this time.”

“Thanks, Leopold. I’ll get right on that.”

“Scotty?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“This shitty, tired-sounding version of you is giving me a giant softie. Whatever your problems are, they’ll be there for you when you return. For now, I wasn’t kidding when I said I want the best version of you.”

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve never given you less than one hundred percent.”

“As soon as the banks open, I’ll transfer the money.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

He hung up and shook his head in disgust. What the hell else could go wrong? He really did run a team of amateurs. He turned and looked at Kiera, studying her. Her bald head was shaved clean, her posture was perfect, and she wasn’t even moving. If not for the pulsing of her carotid artery, he just might mistake her for a freaking statue.

His phone beeped, breaking his trance. He opened a text message from Richie, then looked down and saw a photo of the Audi performance sedan, a photo of the license plate number, and the parking spot number where the car was parked at El Paso International Airport. The rest of the text read: KEY IN WHEEL WELL UNDER DRIVER’S SIDE WHEEL. A second text came in. This one was of an alien head emoji. Leopold let out a much-needed chuckle.

He texted Richie a quick reply of thanks, then he checked his watch and realized he had enough time to take a power nap. Closing his eyes, he let the worries drift out of his mind, seeing only black space, hearing only silence.

Before he knew it, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

SCOTTY CHASE

Earlier that morning… Scotty Chase walked into the Rum Runner bar in Phoenix half drunk and fully pissed off. After dealing with an insufferable client who refused to pay for a job he spent the last three months slaving over, he was up to his eyes in debt with no chance of repayment. So now he was laying low and trying to take the edge off of what had turned out to be a very long, very painful losing streak.

He sat down at the bar, set a crisp twenty out in front of him, and gave a subtle wave to the bartender—a woman he vaguely recognized. She frowned when she saw him, which reminded him that he’d definitely been there recently. With the way he’d taken up drinking, almost like it was an Olympic sport, he couldn’t be sure where he’d been or whom he’d met.

“I will serve you again,” she said as she walked over, “but you can’t be doing coke