La Brava (1983) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Elmore Leonard
her arm, gently. LaBrava went out to the hall to make his adjustments. When he came back in and stood over the woman on the mattress, framing her in the viewfinder, dark hair against pale skin, Maurice said, "What'd you set it at?"
"Sixtieth at eight."
"I don't know..."
LaBrava didn't wait. The flash went off as he triggered the camera tight to his right eye, cocked it with his thumb, shot the second time, cocked and shot again.
"Set it lower and get another one."
"That's enough," LaBrava said.
"I want to be sure we got something."
"We got it," LaBrava said. "Take her out the front and I'll bring the car around."
There was another girl in the office now who seemed only a few years older than Pam but more grown up, in charge. Coming into the room again LaBrava heard her tell Nobles she was the supervisor and wanted to see some identification or there would be nothing to discuss. Right away LaBrava liked her confidence. He liked her slim build in jeans standing with long legs apart, arms folded, brown hair waved to her shoulders. A good-looking girl who knew what she was doing.
Nobles dug a wallet out of his back pocket, turning sideways and brushing his silver jacket open so they would see the checkered walnut grip of a revolver stuck in the waist of his jeans. Saying, "Boca police brought this lady here happens to be a friend of mine. See, I checked with them and they said it would be okay to release her to my custody. They said fine, go ahead." He flipped open the wallet to show a gold shield on one side, an I.D. card bearing his photograph on the other. "See what it says there? Palm Beach County."
The slim girl took a half step, extending her hand and he flipped the wallet closed. She said, "Palm Beach County what? If the Boca Police said it was okay, they'd have called to let us know. That's how it works."
Nobles shook his head, weary. "Look, I'm doing you a favor. Lemme have the lady and we'll say nighty-night, let you all go on back play with your nuts."
"No one leaves without authorization," the slim girl said, standing right up to him.
"I'm giving you authorization. Jesus Christ, I just now showed it to you."
LaBrava said, "Excuse me. Would somebody like to open the front door?"
Nobles gave him a look, cold, with no expression, and the slim girl said, "Show me identification or get out. That's the way it is. Okay?"
LaBrava watched Nobles sigh, shake his head--not so drunk that he couldn't put on an act--and flip open the wallet again. "What's that say? Right there? Palm Beach County authorization." Giving her a flash of official wording and flipped the wallet closed.
He's not a cop.
LaBrava would bet on it. He heard the girl say, "That's not PBSO or any badge I've ever seen before."
Nobles shook his head again. "Some reason you got your ass up in the air. Did I say I was with the Palm Beach sheriff's office? You don't listen good, do you? See, long as I got credentials as to who I am and Boca PD says it's fine with them, then tell me what your problem is, puss, cause I sure as hell don't see it."
Sounding drunk, but with a swagger that was part the guy's brute nature and would not be contained for long; his size, his eighteen-inch neck giving him permission to do as he pleased. LaBrava had known a few Richard Nobles.
The guy was no cop.
He might've been at one time; he had a service revolver and the official off-duty look of a small-town cop taken with himself, but he wasn't one now.
The slim girl had already assumed as much. She was looking at Pam, telling her, "Get Delray Police, 276-4141."
Nobles said, "Hey, come on," watching Pam dial. "Look, this lady you got happens to be a friend of mine. Officer at Boca name of Glenn Hicks says they brought her in here. See, I was even with her earlier tonight, having some drinks." He watched the slim girl step to the side of the desk and take the phone from Pam. "Ask her. Go on..."
The slim girl said into the phone, "This is South County on Fourth
"Sixtieth at eight."
"I don't know..."
LaBrava didn't wait. The flash went off as he triggered the camera tight to his right eye, cocked it with his thumb, shot the second time, cocked and shot again.
"Set it lower and get another one."
"That's enough," LaBrava said.
"I want to be sure we got something."
"We got it," LaBrava said. "Take her out the front and I'll bring the car around."
There was another girl in the office now who seemed only a few years older than Pam but more grown up, in charge. Coming into the room again LaBrava heard her tell Nobles she was the supervisor and wanted to see some identification or there would be nothing to discuss. Right away LaBrava liked her confidence. He liked her slim build in jeans standing with long legs apart, arms folded, brown hair waved to her shoulders. A good-looking girl who knew what she was doing.
Nobles dug a wallet out of his back pocket, turning sideways and brushing his silver jacket open so they would see the checkered walnut grip of a revolver stuck in the waist of his jeans. Saying, "Boca police brought this lady here happens to be a friend of mine. See, I checked with them and they said it would be okay to release her to my custody. They said fine, go ahead." He flipped open the wallet to show a gold shield on one side, an I.D. card bearing his photograph on the other. "See what it says there? Palm Beach County."
The slim girl took a half step, extending her hand and he flipped the wallet closed. She said, "Palm Beach County what? If the Boca Police said it was okay, they'd have called to let us know. That's how it works."
Nobles shook his head, weary. "Look, I'm doing you a favor. Lemme have the lady and we'll say nighty-night, let you all go on back play with your nuts."
"No one leaves without authorization," the slim girl said, standing right up to him.
"I'm giving you authorization. Jesus Christ, I just now showed it to you."
LaBrava said, "Excuse me. Would somebody like to open the front door?"
Nobles gave him a look, cold, with no expression, and the slim girl said, "Show me identification or get out. That's the way it is. Okay?"
LaBrava watched Nobles sigh, shake his head--not so drunk that he couldn't put on an act--and flip open the wallet again. "What's that say? Right there? Palm Beach County authorization." Giving her a flash of official wording and flipped the wallet closed.
He's not a cop.
LaBrava would bet on it. He heard the girl say, "That's not PBSO or any badge I've ever seen before."
Nobles shook his head again. "Some reason you got your ass up in the air. Did I say I was with the Palm Beach sheriff's office? You don't listen good, do you? See, long as I got credentials as to who I am and Boca PD says it's fine with them, then tell me what your problem is, puss, cause I sure as hell don't see it."
Sounding drunk, but with a swagger that was part the guy's brute nature and would not be contained for long; his size, his eighteen-inch neck giving him permission to do as he pleased. LaBrava had known a few Richard Nobles.
The guy was no cop.
He might've been at one time; he had a service revolver and the official off-duty look of a small-town cop taken with himself, but he wasn't one now.
The slim girl had already assumed as much. She was looking at Pam, telling her, "Get Delray Police, 276-4141."
Nobles said, "Hey, come on," watching Pam dial. "Look, this lady you got happens to be a friend of mine. Officer at Boca name of Glenn Hicks says they brought her in here. See, I was even with her earlier tonight, having some drinks." He watched the slim girl step to the side of the desk and take the phone from Pam. "Ask her. Go on..."
The slim girl said into the phone, "This is South County on Fourth
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