Shooting Star
Bradley Wright
Contents
Newsletter
Title
Also by Bradley Wright
Shooting Star
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Sample
Sample: WHISKEY & ROSES
Sample
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For information on upcoming releases, contests, freebies, and deals on future novels, head over to-
www.bradleywrightauthor.com
-and join the reader team. I don’t write often, and I will never spam you or share your information. Thanks for being a part of the team. Talk to you soon!
Also by Bradley Wright
XANDER KING
Whiskey & Roses
(sample at back of book)
Vanquish
King’s Ransom
King’s Reign
Scourge
Vendetta (prequel novella)
LAWSON RAINES
When the Man Comes Around
Copyright © 2019 by Bradley Wright
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Bradley Wright/King’s Ransom Books
www.bradleywrightauthor.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead,
or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Cover Design by DDD, Deranged Doctor Designs
Shooting Star/Bradley Wright. -- 1st ed.
ISBN - 978-0-9973926-6-1
For Frank and Norma Wright
For Earl and Carol Holcomb
Thank you for the most wonderful parents a man could ask for. And so much more.
Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t.
Mark Twain
Monsters will always exist. There's one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other.
Jacqueline Novogratz
1
“Who was he?”
It was not an easy question to answer. If it sounded as though his men were completely blindsided by one man, Clint would look weak in the eyes of his new employer. Not an option. If he acted as if it wasn’t a big deal at all and it would be easy to handle, Marty Sloan might not trust him, might see through Clint’s thin veil. Dangerous. Clint Hues had been doing this a long time, making people bend to his employer’s will, but he had never been embarrassed on the job like he had been in that bar. The man who had interrupted his important conversation with an extraordinary amount of violence a day ago seemed like a ghost.
“Was he really just there having a drink and then he intervened?” Sloan asked, filling Clint’s silence.
“I’m not sure. But I will find out.”
Clint didn’t usually tread so carefully, but Marty Sloan wasn’t just the head of one of the fastest-growing movie production companies here in Los Angeles; he was the head of a crime family boasting decades of power in the city.
Sloan stroked his salt-and-pepper beard. He wasn’t a large man, but his posture suggested power. So too did the mansion they were sitting in. “I brought you in because of your reputation, Hues. You’re known for results, and for your ability to get things done quietly. Have I made a mistake?”
“No, Mr. Sloan. I will make Victoria Marshall understand that the movie she’s producing will be made by your studio. And whoever this man was who interrupted the meeting will not be a problem again.”
“Look, Hues, I don’t really care about the man who kicked your ass. I saw the bar’s surveillance tape, your face is just as visible as his.” Sloan stood from his chair behind his desk. His tone became more serious. “I care about the cops and the FBI that are most certainly looking at that same video right now, trying to figure out who he is but also, more disturbing to me, who the hell you are. I care about the person who hired the man who kept you from making Victoria hand the project over to me. And I care about all of it blowing back on me. Do you understand?”
Clint did understand. And he had already thought through all of these things. He’d been through pressure situations like this before. Right now all he could do was own up to the fact that he had jeopardized everything for Sloan. And assure him, through his actions, that it was all going to get cleaned up. It’s what he did. He had danced around the police and the FBI on many occasions. They didn’t worry him at all. He was far more worried about the man in the bar. He’d never seen someone fight like that. And the way in which he showed no mercy meant he was capable of a lot worse. Besides, if someone had hired him, finding out who the man at the bar was and making him talk would be the quickest way to that information. No one embarrassed Clint like that and got away with it. This business with Marty Sloan was important to him. But making sure everyone knew how hard Clint hit back when he got embarrassed meant even more for the longevity of his career.
“I understand, Mr. Sloan. And I assure you, none of this will blow back on you.”
Sloan walked over and opened the door to his office. His seven-year-old son burst into the room.
“Are you done with your meeting yet, Dad? Dinner’s ready!” The boy threw his arms around his father.
Sloan’s wife hurried into the room, taking their son by the arm and pulling him back out of the office. “Sorry, Marty. Dinner is ready.”
Sloan nodded, then spoke to his son. “I’m coming right now, little man. Go ahead and fix me a plate.”
His wife and son rounded the corner back to the kitchen.
Sloan gave Clint a cold look. “You’d better be sure this doesn’t blow back on me. If my family is affected by this, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what happens after that. However embarrassed you are by what this man did to you at the bar, you’ll be begging me to take it that easy on you.”
Clint wasn’t used to someone talking to him like that. It wasn’t easy, but he swallowed his pride. You didn’t want to get on Sloan’s bad side if you wanted to work in Hollywood again. On camera or behind the scenes. Ever since he was a teenager, Clint had
made a living, not at all legally, in this underground criminal Hollywood world. It had taken him a lifetime to move this high up the food chain. One man in a bar wasn’t going to be the thing that brought him down.
“I’ll update you tomorrow,” Clint said.
“Show yourself out.”
Clint walked out of the multimillion-dollar mansion with his tail between his legs. A feeling he wasn’t used to, and one he wouldn’t soon forget. His cell phone began to ring. It was Jenny, his longtime partner in crime. She was a computer genius, and Clint was hoping that after giving her the video from the bar she would be able to find something out about the stranger who’d caused all of his current troubles.
“Talk to me,” Clint answered.
“How’d the meeting go?” Jenny asked.
“Embarrassing.”
“Shit. Well, I think I have something that will make you feel better.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
Clint could hear typing in the background.
“I ran facial recognition on the guy that kicked your ass,” Jenny said, taking a jab at her longtime partner.
“Easy,” Clint warned.
Jenny laughed. “You know I saw the video. It was pretty brutal—”
“Will you just get to it already?” Clint was fed up with the entire situation.
“Right, well, I found him.”
No sweeter words could have been spoken.
“Good work,” Clint said as he got in his car. “And what is this dead man’s name?”
“Lawson Raines.”
2
“Lawson Raines?” FBI Agent Frank Shaw attempted to clarify.
Claudia looked up from her computer and eyeballed her partner. “Yeah. Why, you know him?”
Frank got up and walked over for a better look. “That’s him?” Frank pointed to the video of the bar fight they had been called to investigate. Most bar fights were handled by the police. But when a high-profile filmmaker, a notorious Hollywood fixer, and some unknown man who wipes the floor with all of them, and then escorts said filmmaker out of the bar, the FBI often gets a call.
“He’s a lot bigger than I remember, but yeah, that’s Raines all right. I was in the Las Vegas division with him for a year over a decade ago. You didn’t hear what happened in Vegas last summer?”
Claudia paused the video, right at the part when Lawson Raines grabs Clint Hues by the throat and throws him against the wall like a rag doll. “This isn’t the guy who took down the De Luca family, is it? After serving ten years for the murder of his wife? That Lawson Raines? I knew the name sounded familiar.”
“Yeah, same guy. He was a real stickler for the rules, real prick too. But I knew he didn’t do it. The thing with his wife. All you had to do was see him with her one time to know he would never hurt her. But what the hell is he doing in a bar with a scumbag like Hues a year later? In LA?”
Claudia shook her head. “I don’t know, but he sure isn’t afraid to make enemies.”
Frank sat down, removed the lid off his coffee, and took a sip. He was built like a stone wall. His short dark hair matched his dark eyes, and the lines on his face told stories of a never-ending war with crime.
“So what do we know?” Frank said.
Claudia tucked her medium-length brown hair behind her ear, closed the laptop computer, and gave him a shrug. “All we really know is that your friend Lawson interrupted one of the seediest guys in LA while he was clearly talking business with Victoria Marshall.”
“Friend? Hardly. Do we know who Hues is working for?”
“He’s a job-by-job man, as far as we know. No real longtime employment with anyone. I can look into who Victoria Marshall’s been working with and see if there’s any sort of connection. But right now I’ve got to get home and feed Molly.”
Frank scoffed. “You act like that dog is your child. Maybe you should consider getting a life.”
“You mean like you, Frank? Mr. Socialite himself? When is the last time you had adult interaction that wasn’t with me or someone else here at the department? And hookers and bartenders don’t count.”
Claudia smiled and flipped him the bird. “Go kill yourself with another one of your cancer sticks.”
“That’s not a bad idea . . . Listen, let’s keep this thing with Raines between you and me right now, okay?”
“Okay, Frankie. Want me to try and run him down?”
“See what you can find about what he’s been up to for the past year. If anything.”
“Copy.”
“Tell Molly I said hello.”
Frank grabbed his pack of Marlboro reds from the desk and walked down the hall out the back door. Claudia grabbed her keys and followed. The sun had just set in LA and the temperature was around a perfect seventy-five degrees. Frank lit a cigarette.
“You following me?”
“Just needed some air.” Claudia smiled.
Frank took a puff. “Strange that Raines is here. He’s a Kentucky boy. He thought Vegas was too big, not sure how he landed in LA. He hates criminals too. So I’m really not sure why the hell he’s making enemies with one of Hollywood’s most infamous fixers.”
“No idea, but the weather’s nice.”
Frank took another puff.
“Where’s this guy been the past year?” Claudia said.
“Well, ever since news made it around the law enforcement community about what he’d done in Vegas last year, as far as I know, he hasn’t popped up on anyone’s radar.”
“This is a hell of a way to make an entrance,” Claudia said. “I’m assuming he doesn’t have the same phone number as a decade ago. Verizon probably doesn’t have a ‘wait ten years to pay’ plan.”
“I suppose not. Might have his old partner’s. She might know where he is, but eleven years is a long time to keep the same number. Not sure I even have hers.”
“I’ve had my number for longer than that. You should give it a shot.”
Frank looked through the contacts on his phone. “Cassie Murdoch LVFBI. Still got it. Let’s see if she’ll answer.”
Frank pressed call as he flicked some ashes to the ground. He put it on speaker so they both could hear.
“This is Cassie,” she answered on the third ring.
“Cassie Murdoch?” Frank confirmed.
“Ding ding! Bob, tell him what he’s won! Who the hell is this?”
Frank smiled. “You haven’t changed a bit, still as fiery and sarcastic as ever. Just the opposite of Raines. Frank Shaw. Las Vegas FBI. Oh, about a decade ago.”
“Holy shit. Frank Shaw? Haven’t heard that name in a while. You still stealing other people’s evidence and taking credit for your fellow agents’ accomplishments?”
Frank’s smile faltered. “And you’re still jealous of us agents that actually get results, I see. Good, we’ll skip the pleasantries.”
“Sounds good to me, Frank. You called me, what the hell do you want? I’m late for dinner.”
“When is the last time you spoke with your old partner?”
Frank dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, then walked over to his old Ford Crown Victoria. Claudia lingered behind him.
“Who, Jim Nash?” Cassie said.
“No, your old partner. The one you had before he went to jail.”
“Lawson? I haven’t spoken to him at all. What’s it to you?”
Frank opened the door to his car. “This what we’re doing? Fine. I read the papers. I know you helped him in Vegas with the De Lucas. He’s in trouble here in Los Angeles and I want to help him.”
“You called the wrong person, Frank. I haven’t seen him since he took his daughter back to Kentucky. Good catching up with you, though. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Cassie ended the call.
“Well, sounds like you two were the best of friends,” Claudia joked.
“Same old Cassie. She knows where he is.”
“I’ll see if I can find her then. At least we have a number to work off of.”
Frank nodded. “Don’t go stepping on that little dog now. You’ll lose your only friend.”
Claudia walked away. “Don’t go dying of lung cancer. You won’t be able to continue reveling in your own misery.”
3
“No, Dad, you’re saying it wrong!” Lexi Raines walked over to Lawson, who was sitting on the couch, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. Lexi was tall for her age, but her dad towered over her. “Maybe if you act it out, it will seem more real.” Lexi moved him in a half circle in front of the fire. Lawson played along. “There, now . . . be sad.”
“I’m not an actor, Lexi.”
Lexi’s shoulders slumped. “Dad, just try, would you?”
Lawson, though he thought his daughter was adorable, was growing tired of trying to help her run lines. He just wasn’t good at it. His effort showed. He pouted his face to try to please her. He deepened a frown as far as he could make it go.