False Witness Read Online Free Page A

“Intruders break into my home, I slice ’em up in self-defense.”
    â€œI’m a deputy sheriff for Orange County, California,” Clark gasped. He tried to sound official, hoping that even Mortavius might think twice before killing a law enforcement officer. “In off hours, I repo vehicles.” He felt the point of the knife pressing against his gut, just below his navel, the perfect spot to start a vivisection.
    â€œBut you can keep yours,” Clark continued, talking fast. “I’m only authorized to repo if there’s no breach of the peace. Looks like this situation might not qualify.”
    Mortavius inched closer. He shifted his grip from Clark’s collar to his neck, pinning Clark against the wall. “You try to gank my ride at night, then show up the next morning to tow it?”
    â€œSomething like that,” Clark admitted. The words came out whispered for lack of air.
    â€œThat takes guts,” Mortavius responded. A look that might have passed for admiration flashed across the dark eyes. “But no brains.”
    â€œI’ve got a deal,” Clark whispered, frantic now for breath. His world was starting to cave in, stars and pyrotechnics clouding his vision.
    The doorbell rang.
    â€œLet’s hear it,” Mortavius said quietly, relaxing his stranglehold just enough so Clark could breathe.
    â€œThey’re paying me six Gs for the car,” Clark explained rapidly. He was thinking just clearly enough to fudge the numbers. “They know where you are now because I called them yesterday. Even if you kill me—” saying the words made Clark shudder a little, especially since Mortavius didn’t flinch—“they’re going to find the car. You let me tow it today and get it fixed. I’ll wire four thousand bucks into your bank account before I leave the Cadillac place. I make two thousand, and you’ve got four thousand for a down payment on your next set of wheels.”
    The doorbell rang again, and Mortavius furrowed his brow. “Five Gs,” he said, scowling.
    â€œForty-five hundred,” Clark countered, “I’ve got a wife and—”
    Ughh . . . Clark felt the wind flee his lungs as Mortavius slammed him against the wall. Pain shot from the back of his skull where it bounced off the drywall, probably leaving a dent.
    â€œFive,” Mortavius snarled.
    Clark nodded quickly.
    The big man released Clark, answered the door, and chased away the other tow truck driver, explaining that there had been a mistake. As Mortavius and Clark finished negotiating deal points, Clark had another brilliant idea.
    â€œHave you got any friends who aren’t making their payments?” he asked. “I could cut them in on the same type of deal. Say . . . fifty-fifty on the repo reward—they could use their cuts as down payments to trade up.”
    â€œGet out of here before I hurt you,” Mortavius said.

    Clark glanced at his watch as he left the parking lot. He had less than two hours to return the tow truck and make it to the plastic surgeon’s office. He speed-dialed Jessica.
    â€œHighway Auto Service,” she responded.
    â€œIt didn’t work,” Clark said. “I got busted.”
    â€œYou okay?”
    He loved hearing the concern in her voice. He hesitated a second, then, “Not a scratch on me.”
    â€œI told you it was a dumb idea,” Jessica said, though she sounded more relieved than upset. “You never listen. Clark Shealy knows it all.”
    And he wasn’t listening now. Instead, he was doing the math again in his head. Sixteen thousand, minus Mortavius’s cut and the repair bill, would leave about ten. He thought about the logistics of making the wire transfers into accounts that Jessica wouldn’t know about.
    Pulling a con on pimps like Mortavius was one thing. Getting one by Jessica was quite another.

2
    Two hours later, back in