Читать книгу Suburban Secrets - Donna Birdsell - Страница 8

Friday, 11:45 a.m.

Wild Card

Pete Slade popped another Tums and stared out the window of the Melrose Diner in South Philly. He had a bad feeling.

Hell, he’d had a bad feeling since this whole mess began. And the fact that he now had to rely on a sharp-looking kid with a hundred-dollar haircut and a different girl for every night of the week didn’t help matters.

Nick Balboa wasn’t what you’d call reliable. Not even a little bit. He was a low-level thug with big plans.

A wild card.

And he was gonna screw everything up.

Pete chugged his coffee and threw a couple bucks down on the table for the waitress.

Out on the street, he flipped open his cell phone and called Lou.

“Hey. I got a funny feeling.”

“Yeah?” said Lou.

“Yeah. I’m gonna swing by the airport, maybe watch Balboa’s car.”

He imagined Lou rolling his eyes. But Pete had been doing this long enough to know when to follow his gut. Even when it was rebelling against him.

“Anything you want me to do?” Lou asked.

“Just sit tight. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Pete disconnected the call and popped another Tums.

Jesus, he couldn’t wait for this to be over.