Dark Luck (A Suspense Thriller) Read Online Free Page B

Nora
who killed him? They couldn’t get this information from him, because he
couldn’t be his own source. You see, Nick wouldn’t have known that Nora was the
killer if the cops hadn’t cracked the case first.
    Apparently, Nora somehow slipped up. She wasn’t a
professional assassin, after all. The question was: what was her mistake?
    Too bad Nick hadn’t told him how she was going to kill
him. If he knew Nora’s plan, it would be easier for him to figure out how she
got caught.
    Or maybe she never got caught. Maybe she made a
deathbed confession to her grandkids to unburden her conscience.
    Whatever. Who the hell cared?
    The murder weapon—what would it be? A gun? A knife? A
sledgehammer? Sodium cyanide? Or a hairdryer in the tub?
    Ted got up and began pacing the room.
    For some reason, he had no doubt now that Nora was not
acting alone.
    How about a private investigator? People often hire PIs
to sniff out their spouses’ secrets.
    No, he’d rather not involve a private eye in this
matter. What if Nora ended up dead sometime down the road? The fact that he had
hired an investigator would indicate to the police that he suspected his wife
of adultery, which would lead them to believe that he’d had a motive to murder
her.
    If you want something done, do it yourself, isn’t that
what they say?
    Two days later, Ted managed to install a spy
application on Nora’s cellphone, which allowed him to track the cell’s
location, see the call history, and read every text message his wife sent and
received. He was on the right track, but he didn’t know that yet.
     
    14.
    There was a breakthrough in Ted’s investigation on
October 21st,eight days before Nora was predicted to strike. The
breakthrough happened by accident, around midnight, when Ted came home from a
poker game at his buddy’s place. As he crossed the semi-dark living room, he
saw Pete sitting in an armchair with the whiskey decanter in his hand. Ted
didn’t have to smell Pete’s breath to figure out that his son was drunk like a
skunk.
    Ted was slightly annoyed that Pete was pouring from his
personal decanter. You do not touch Ted’s alcohol, that was the rule. Why
hadn’t the kid bought his own damn whiskey?   
    “What’s the occasion?” Ted eased into the chair on the
other side of the table.
    At least he wasn’t getting shitfaced at some sketchy
bar or a drug den in Pacoima, Ted thought.
    “No occasion. Want some?” Pete raised the decanter and
gave Ted an inquiring look. His speech was slurred.
    Ted shook his head. Under different circumstances, he
would not mind having a glass of whiskey, but right now he was too preoccupied
with trying to figure out Nora’s plan as well as processing her betrayal. Besides,
he didn’t want to cloud his judgment; he needed a clear head more than ever
before.
    “Is it about some chick?” Ted asked.
    This had to be about a girl. At twenty two, at least half
of your problems were pussy related (if you were a regular straight guy, of
course). As the Beatles said, you can’t buy love.  
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “No.”
    “Okay.”  
    After a short pause, Pete asked, “Dad, why did you ask Mike
if Mom was cheating on you?”  
    Ted studied his son’s face for a few seconds, wondering
if Pete suspected anything, and then replied, “I was just having a bad day,
that’s all.”
    There was no distrust or contempt in Pete’s eyes.
Perhaps he was genuinely curious.
    “Are you getting a divorce?”
    Ted smiled. “No, of course not.”
    Pete nodded, then leaned back and closed his eyes. When
Ted looked at him again, he seemed to have fallen asleep.
    After staring at the walls in complete silence for several
minutes, Ted stood up to turn off the lights. As soon as he took his first step
towards the lamp, he froze. There was something wrong with his exquisite Rolex
Submariner Date wristwatch, which had set him back thirty grand. It had become
significantly lighter;