Page 81 of Sunset Savage

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“No, I’m really not.”

“That psychopath can’t just get away with it.”

“No, he can’t.”

“I think we need to have a conversation with your father.” Baptist’s eyes get that gleam in them again as he steps toward me. “I think he’ll help us get a little revenge of our own.”

“Yes, please,” I say, grinning back.

Chapter28

Baptist

Cowan’s studio is in a lone row home with fields on either side of it in a mostly abandoned block deep in north Philadelphia. It’s a bad neighborhood in a forgotten section of the city, and the only car that isn’t on cinderblocks or burned down to its metal frame is a simple black sedan.

There are bars on the windows. Bars on the door. Everything is locked down tight, and there’s nothing else around it, like the place exists in its own pocket in space and time.

“Cowan really works here?” I ask, squinting at the building. “Kind of hard to imagine, honestly. He always seemed so… uptight.”

Kenny Palmer nods quickly. “I’m absolutely positive. I was inside a few times.” He’s young, mid-twenties, and comes from a long line of film people. He grew up in LA but moved out here to work for Cowan when he was just eighteen. He’s thin, pale, dark hair, dark eyes, and scowls at the building like he wants to blow the place to smithereens.

“Whyhere?” Blair asks, scowling around her. “Of all the places in the world, why this one?”

“He grew up around here,” Kenny says with a shrug. “That’s what he told me, anyway. Who knows what to believe with that guy. He said a lot of shit when I worked for him.”

“He probably wasn’t lying. As far as I know, Cowan really did live and work in Philly for years.” I lean forward and let out a long breath. “What do you two think? Is he inside right now?”

“That’s his car,” Kenny says and groans. “If he sees me with you two, I’m dead. He’ll ruin me. Or maybe he’ll skip all that and just kill me outright. God, I hope he just makes it quick.”

Blair gives me a look. She’s smiling slightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Kenny.”

“We’ll handle Cowan,” I say and open my door. “You stay here and keep the doors unlocked.”

“Unlocked?” Kenny looks bewildered. “Why the hell?”

“We might need to drive away in a hurry,” Blair says and winks at Kenny before she gets out of the car.

Kenny stares at her wide-eyed and turns to me. “Are you going to kill him?”

“Probably not,” I say and shrug. “Would that be a problem if we did?”

Kenny’s expression darkens. “No, Baptist. No, it wouldn’t.”

I nod at him and get out. The poor kid worked for Cowan for years and I’m guessing the old bastard put him through hell. I can only imagine the trauma that kid’s got rattling around his brain and I don’t doubt his sincerity. We could probably blow Cowan’s brains out and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

I go around to the back of the car and get out the red gas can. I carry it dangling from my left hand as Blair leads the way, wearing black jeans and a dark leather jacket, her hands shoved in the pockets, grinning with excitement.

We reach the front door and pause. “You know the plan?” I ask.

“Yeah. We beat the shit out of Cowan and hopefully he dies.”

I sigh and shake my head. “Blair.”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding. I’m pregnant, remember? You do all the work and I stand around looking intimidating.”

“You’re extremely intimidating. All five-foot-three of you. Real tough.”

“Don’t you forget it, prick.” She grins and punches my arm before banging on the door. “Hey, Cowan! Open the fuck up!”


Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime