Bulldog (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 9) Read Online Free Page B

waist leaning against the Camaro with his hands on his knees. Blood from his nose and mouth was dripping down into a puddle on the asphalt parking lot. Blood from his ear had soaked a good portion of his shoulder and the front of his shirt. He stared at the ground and didn’t look up at me when he spoke.
    “Yeah, Bulldog. He didn’t tell me why, honest he didn’t. He just said he wanted to get into the house, that the folks were moving and he was thinking of buying it back. Wanted to see what they’d done before he came up with a number.”
    “Buy it back?”
    “Yeah, that’s what he said, honest,” Freddy gasped.
    “Why didn’t he just call? That doesn’t make any sense,” I half said to myself, but Freddy heard me.
    “I don’t know, man. It’s Bulldog, it’s not supposed to make sense. He just told me to go there and find a way in. He said no one was living there. If I knew your friend was there I wouldn’t have tried the window, really, I wouldn’t lie to you. I promise I wouldn’t,” Freddy said then coughed and spit more blood a couple of times onto the asphalt.
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    I was lying awake on the couch at Casey’s wondering why Bulldog wanted to get into this place. It’s not like there was anything to really steal, maybe the flat screen, but a jerk like Bulldog would have access to an entire truckload just by making a phone call. Dermot’s laptop was three or four years old and besides, I didn’t think Bulldog knew the alphabet. Then there was the bit that he, Bulldog was a previous owner. Knowing Dermot and Casey, they would have run the other way rather than deal with someone like him. I double checked to make sure the .38 was on the coffee table then promised myself I’d call Casey in the morning and drifted off to sleep.
    “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Casey called and set down a couple of bags and a tray holding four coffees.
    I sort of groaned then rolled over and sat up. My shoulders, neck and back made audible cracking sounds as I twisted left and right, then I burped.
    “Charming. God, you slob, how could you trash this place all by yourself in just one night?” she asked then placed my ice cream dish in the bowl full of chicken wing bones. She stacked the empty dip container on top and picked it all up along with the cracker box. “I’ll come back and get all the beer bottles and I better bring the vacuum, you’ve got crumbs all over. There are toothbrushes in the top drawer to the right of the bathroom sink. Might be a good idea, then come on back, if I remember correctly you like caramel rolls for breakfast.”
    “I like anything I don’t have to cook,” I said. Then picked up the .38 as discreetly as possible and slipped it into my pocket.
    We were sitting in the den. Two plumbers were banging pipes out in the front room doing something to the radiator. I was almost finished with my second coffee and eyeing the third. Casey was about halfway through her first and still nibbling at the same caramel roll she’d started on twenty minutes earlier. She was doing the female thing; taking the smallest of bites, barely a morsel, eating that and then waiting. I’d already inhaled both my caramel rolls and was picking up errant crumbs from off the coffee table. I eyed the rest of her’s and decided to play rough.
    “God, I guess I should have gotten more,” she said watching me lick my finger tips.
    “Nah, this was great. Really hits the spot. I have to say, Casey, you look really great, have you lost a little weight?”
    “Probably just the stress.”
    “Well, you look like you’ve been working out, you look fantastic.”
    “Thanks, Dev, that’s sweet,” she said then pushed her plate to the center of the coffee table. “Go ahead and finish that if you want, I’m really not that hungry.”
    “Nah, I couldn’t. You sure, I mean you barely touched it?”
    “Please, take it otherwise it will just go to waste.”
    “Okay, I guess if you really