In Cold Blonde Read Online Free Page B

had no idea how cute he was. 
    And Ryan loved his work.  He practically oozed enthusiasm.  His
hazel eyes looked almost incandescent as he asked questions, made notes.  He
was one of the few truly happy people she’d ever met. 
    “Okay,” Ryan said joining Syd in the doorway of Havoc.  “The victim
met a beautiful blonde somewhere around one-thirty.  The bartender knew Colin
Wood, knew his face at least, not so much his name.  He’d come in every so
often looking for a hook-up.  He’d never seen the woman before.  He’d
remember, he said.”
    “Did the blonde and the victim know each other?” Syd asked.
    “The bartender wasn’t sure.  When she came in, everyone noticed
her.  Even the ladies; she was that hot.  The bartender saw her look
around for a beat then head in Mr. Wood’s direction.  But she was alone
and he was the only guy without a girl at that point.”
    “So she might have been looking for any single guy or him specifically.”
    “Exactly,” Ryan said.
    “Did she have a drink, any chance for a fingerprint?”
    Ryan shook his head.  “She didn’t order anything.  How about
you, any luck at the 7-Eleven?”
    A mischievous smile tugged her lips.  “No security camera aimed in
this direction.  But as for luck…” Syd handed him the piece of
paper.  “Call this number.”
     
    “Forty-seven million dollars!” Ryan said into the cell phone after
reciting the serial number on the Lotto ticket.
    “That’s right, sir,” the Lotto operator told him.  “But you chose
cash value, so after taxes you’ll only net about thirty-four million.”
    “Only…” Ryan laughed.  A few cops still working the crime scene began
to gather as word spread.   “So how do I get the money?”
    “Just come down to the office, answer a few questions to verify it’s your
ticket, and we’ll issue a check.”
    Warning bells went off in Ryan’s head.  “What do you mean verify
it’s mine?”
    “Just answer a couple of questions.  Where you bought the ticket,
was it a quick pick or did you choose the numbers?  We often check the
store’s video tape to see you buying it, but with a ticket this old, I doubt
there would be a tape.”
    “Probably not,” Ryan said, praying there wouldn’t be.
    “And like I told your friend, you need to hurry.  This ticket
expires on Thursday.  It’s only good for one hundred and eighty days after
the drawing so you’ve only got two days left.  After close of business
Thursday, that’s 6:00 p.m., it’ll be worthless.”
    “Thursday, got it,” Ryan said. 
    In point of fact, Ryan hadn’t bought the ticket at all.  Someone
else did, a guy wearing grease-stained coveralls.  He was in front of Ryan
at the 7-Eleven; bought a six-pack of Bud light, a beef jerky and a pack of
Marlboros.  When he got his change, he had a buck left so he bought a Lotto
ticket.  He asked for a quick pick, cash value ticket, got it and
left. 
    Ryan remembered because he was late for a court hearing but desperately
needed some Rolaids for an excruciating attack of heartburn.  The
counterman and the guy in the coveralls took forever, talking about the Lakers,
the Dodgers and even the fucking Angels while a volcano burbled in Ryan’s
stomach.   
    Finally, after the guy left, Ryan bought the antacids and headed out the
door.  He saw the guy in overalls climb into a tow truck.  Ryan also
noticed a Lotto ticket fluttering on the ground.  He picked it up as the
guy started his tow truck.  Ryan thought about calling out to him, telling
him he dropped his Lotto ticket, but Ryan was so annoyed that the jerk had
taken so long at the counter that he just let him drive off. 
    Ryan had no idea who he was, didn’t bother looking at the license plate,
so had no way of tracking him down.  And why would he bother?  What
were the odds a lottery ticket was actually worth anything?  A hundred
million to one odds, more?  Fuck it, Ryan thought as he climbed into his