Determinant Read Online Free Page A

already been there. Ray finished his drink and waved the bartender over. “Let me get one more.”
    The bartender tilted the bottle of whiskey into Ray’s glass. “Three fifty. Are you here waiting on someone or something?”
    Ray slid a five from his change sitting on the bar over to him. “Yeah. Or something.” He picked up the whiskey and took a sip. The front door opened and two men walked in. They took a seat at the other end of the bar. They sat and focused on Ray.
    The bartender grabbed a couple bottles of beer and took them to the two men. He whispered something to them.
    Headlights shined through the front window of the bar. A minute later the door opened and Ray’s contact walked in. He took the seat to his right. “You him?”
    Ray nodded. “What do you know?”
    “Cash first.”
    Ray reached into his inside pocket. He pulled his jacket open far enough to allow the guy to see his shoulder holstered Desert Eagle. He took out an envelope and handed to him. “Now, what do you know?”
    “We have a skiptracer that works downtown. He has something for you. The guy’s name is Scott. He’s expecting your call.” The contact handed him a number on a scrap of paper, stood and walked from the bar.
    Ray slipped the piece of paper into his pocket. He lifted his glass of whiskey from the bar and took a drink. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the men at the end of the bar stare at him.
    This is going to be fun , Ray thought.
    At almost three hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle, Ray was an imposing figure without weapons. Tonight he had a number of them. He finished his whiskey and took the two twenties from the bar. He stuffed them back into his wallet. Ray jammed his billfold back into his inside jacket pocket and undid the button securing his pistol. He stood and walked for the door. The two men stood. Ray walked about five feet outside of the front door and pulled the Desert Eagle from the holster. He turned, faced the door and waited.
    The front door of the bar opened and the two men walked out. The door closed behind them. Ray watched the look of surprise cross the men’s faces. The man leading the way held a switchblade. The one in the back grabbed his friend by the shoulder.
    Ray stood pointing the gun at them. The barrel of the pistol was just a few feet from their heads. “You guys planning on doing something?” Ray asked.
    The guy with the switchblade tried hiding it behind his leg. “No. We were just trying to leave.”
    “You always walk out of the bar after people with a switchblade?” Ray motioned with the barrel of the gun back toward the bar. “You sure the bartender didn’t call you guys up to come and try to roll me in the parking lot?”
    The one in the back spoke up. “No one called us. I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t want any trouble. We were just leaving.” He grabbed his friend’s shirt and tried to pull him to the side. “Come on man.”
    “Just wait a second there guys. Toss the blade on the ground.”
    The man tossed the switchblade at Ray’s feet. Ray kicked it across the parking lot. “Now, pull out your wallets and pass them over.”
    “Hey man, what is this? You’re going to rob us?”
    Ray stepped toward them. “Wallets.”
    They handed them over. He opened the first and found the I.D. “Which one of you is Jeff Kearn?”
    The shorter of the two pointed to himself.
    He opened the next wallet. The I.D. said: Thomas Reynolds—the guy with the switchblade.
    Ray pulled the cash, driver’s licenses and credit cards from both wallets and stuck them in his pants pocket. He tossed the empty billfolds behind him in the parking lot.
    “Now I’m going to teach you guys a little lesson. How about you first, Tom?”
    Ray holstered his gun and jammed his hands into the front pockets of his suit jacket. The two men looked at each other confused. His hands came from his pockets. The dim street light that lit the parking lot shined off of the brass