Eye of the Burning Man: A Mick Callahan Novel (The Mick Callahan Series) Read Online Free Page A

in build with the same dark hair and eyes, but more Italian than Irish in appearance. He also had a long, straight nose that wasn't broken, unlike mine. He squatted down next to Leyna. "Someone tried to rob you? Then fired at you?"
    "I shot at him with his own gun."
    "What did he look like?"
    I suddenly felt sick, but hurling in front of Leyna was not an option. I put my head between my knees. "He was a big son of a bitch, bigger than you and me. I'd make him six three or four, and going about two fifty and change."
    "What was he wearing?"
    "Dressed in black, spray painted some kind of a generic Halloween mask to cover his face. Tattoo on the forearm, a little stick man in a ring of flames or something like that."
    "Was he after money?"
    "Maybe."
    "The BMW?"
    I raised my head, answered without thinking. "Maybe her."
    Leyna gasped and shuddered. She pulled away from me. The cop looked at her, puzzled. He eyed my lacerated forehead. "You need me to call an ambulance for that?"
    "No. Just a scalp wound. I don't have a concussion or anything. Don't sweat it." Another police car rolled up. The young cop waved them away and they drove off again. The San Fernando Valley gets pretty busy on a Saturday night.
    The cop asked for some ID and we gave up our driver's licenses. He began writing in a notebook, then paused and chuckled. "I thought I recognized you. You're Mick Callahan, that radio guy. You were a Navy Seal, right?"
    "Half-assed. I made it through BUDS and jump school." Damn, I get sick of that question. "I washed out while I was still on probation."
    "I wore the trident," the cop said, proudly. "Only did one hitch, though. I didn't much like getting shot at."
    "Yeah, me neither."
    "You used to be on television too, didn't you? You got fired for getting in a fist fight one time."
    Jesus, you're not doing me any favors, here. "Yeah, but that was all a few years ago."
    The cop shook my hand. "Officer Larry Donato," he said. He spoke in short, choppy authoritarian sentences that belied the wide-eyed, pleasant expression on his face. "I used to watch your show when I was a kid."
    When you were a kid, huh? "Gee. Thanks."
    The cop tore some paper out of his book. "Hey, can I get your autograph?"
    "As long as it's not on a ticket." I was hoping Leyna was impressed. I looked. She wasn't. I signed.
    Donato took the paper, folded it, and stuck it in his shirt pocket. "Thanks a lot."
    "You're welcome."
    Larry chuckled. "Funny story, Mick. My cousin says she busted you once, but let you go. Nice girl, tough as nails. Works Hollywood, mostly in prostitution. Name of Darlene Hernandez. You remember her?"
    "Yeah." I shrugged, genuinely embarrassed. "I did a lot of things when I was drinking. Getting arrested wasn't usually one of them. It stands out in my mind. Uh . . . tell her I said hello."
    Leyna Barton blinked. Her jaw dropped open. I struggled to save the situation. "It was a long time ago, Leyna. I had some serious problems. I don't drink any more, you know that."
    Larry Donato gave me his card. "I'm not kidding. I really was a fan. Take this and hold onto it. It has my cell number on the back."
    "Why?"
    "In case you need to reach me."
    "What for?"
    "A favor. Whatever. I'm a cop, remember? And I'm thinking you might need me."
    Leyna Barton said, "Why is that?" She was pale and seemed one pubic hair from emitting a shriek.
    Donato chuckled. "He pisses people off sometimes, Miss Barton. It's part of his act."
    I sighed. "Oh, give me a break. Couldn't it have been a simple armed robbery?"
    "Maybe."
    "But?"
    "Why a little twenty-two, except maybe to keep the noise down? This parking lot is pretty out of the way. Me, I'd say the perp knows you. Otherwise, why was he right here waiting?"
    I had one eye on Leyna Barton. I was losing ground rapidly. I felt like kicking Donato in the shin.
    "Hey, it seems to me somebody was out to do you for personal reasons."
    "Think so?" It was the partner. He had just tuned in. "Maybe they should come with