Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (read out loud books txt) 📖

to tell you. If you are convicted for the murder of Kathleen Olvera, that will be in New York. You’ll get life. But if you are convicted of kidnapping and killing a police officer, in the performance of his duty, that’ll be here in Colorado, and you know as well as I do that the DA will be looking for the death penalty. Now it’s up to you to make a smart choice, knowing that right now my partner is on her way back to New York with information about what we just found in your barn.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, pal, it was dark, you did not identify yourself, and you shot and murdered one of my tenants. You don’t stand a chance.”

He raised his gun and pointed it at my head. “Get back in there. I want to talk to you before I kill you.”

“How can I refuse?”

I went back into the barn where El Coyote was sitting, tying one of his boot laces around his thigh. He was shaking and looked real pale. Scott was still unconscious and the other Angel was curled in the fetal position, whimpering. The thought crossed my mind that she had probably castrated him. Greg looked at the scene of carnage and shook his head. He laughed and I like to think there was a touch of admiration in his voice.

“Boy, you two are somethin’, huh? These hombres think they’re hard, but you just whipped their asses.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, Greg, and get real. We are police officers. We’re here at the invitation of the local sheriff, conducting a murder investigation. So far you haven’t broken the law. The best thing you can do is cooperate before this gets any more out of hand.”

He put his revolver into his waistband behind his back, studied my face for a moment, and nodded. Then he smashed his fist into my jaw and the lights went out.

Sixteen

When I came around, the world was a deeply unsatisfactory place. Everything hurt.               Within the generalized pain that was existence right then, there were sharper, meaner pains. There was the pain in my back that was making it hard to breathe. There was the pain that was biting into my wrists, the pain that was making my legs shake, and, above all, the blunt axe that somebody had left wedged into my skull. There were other pains too, but they were just the background.

It slowly filtered into my mind that I was tied to one of the wooden pillars that held up the roof of the barn. Putting my weight on my feet eased the pain in my back and shoulders, and I was able to peer around me. Gradually, they came into focus. They’d brought chairs and they were sitting, watching me.

There was Greg, up close, with no particular expression on his face. A bit farther back was El Coyote. He looked feverish and pasty. He was sweating, and another Mexican-looking guy was dressing the wound in his leg. The Angel was over on the right, not far from where he’d fallen. He was still in the fetal position, but he’d gone quiet. He looked like he might be unconscious. Scott was lying next to him. The body of the guy she’d shot had disappeared, but there were two more live ones in his place, standing, looking at me with hatred in their eyes. Sitting in front of them, next to Greg, was Sly. It was not a promising scene to wake up to.

Greg reached down by his feet and picked up what at first looked like a coil of rope.

“You know what this is, Stone? This is a bull whip. It will take the skin clean off a man’s back. I can kill a man with this whip. I know that ’cause I’ve done it. An’ believe me, it is not a nice way to go. You don’t wanna go that way if you can avoid it. This here will make a strong man weep like a baby and beg for his mommy.”

I sighed. “Have you any idea, Greg, how much trouble you’re in?”

Sly leaned back and shrieked with laughter. Greg just smiled and shook his head. “I gotta say, Stone. I don’t respect many men, but have a grudging respect for you.” He turned to look at Sly, who was still braying like a donkey, and started to laugh. “Can you believe the balls on this guy? He’s tied to a post, hand and foot, he’s on his own, unarmed in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, surrounded by a gang of desperados who hate his guts. And he goes right ahead and says, ‘Do you know how much trouble you’re in?’”

Sly became helpless, Greg’s shoulders were shaking and the Angels had started to laugh, too. He had a point. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Do you know how long it’s going to be before the Feds are crawling all over you like flies on shit, Greg?”

He was still chuckling. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“What you have tied up here, Greg, is a man, John Stone. You have not got Federal Law Enforcement tied up here. What is this, some anti world-government militia shit? You think because you’re in the wilderness you can buck the Federal system? Believe me, Greg, they don’t like it when redneck anarchists start killing law enforcement agents. It upsets them a lot.”

“We ain’t gonna kill nobody, city boy. I have no idea who is gonna kill you. I guess you’re gonna go out there and upset one of them wild old mountain boys, and he’s gonna shoot you dead. And good old Sheriff Watson, and my uncle the judge, will explain that good ol’ Greg Carson is a pillar of the community, and he would never hurt nobody, least of all an officer