STORMY WEATHER
A Storm Donovan Thriller
#1
by
STEVE ROLLINS
Acclaim for Steve Rollins:
“An absolute blast! Steve Rollins is my new go-to guy for action and adventure. This is pure genius!”
—K.T. Tomb, bestselling author of The Minoan Mask and The Holy Grail
“Steve Rollins is a lot of writer...and a rising new star. Inventive, fast, witty. Great stuff.”
—J.R. Rain, #1 bestselling author of Moon Dance and Silent Echo
“Suspense and action mingle in one of the finest debut thrillers I've read in a long time. The Rig is a lot of fun.”
—H.T. Night, #1 bestselling author of The Fourth Sunrise and Vampire Nation
“Lightning fast. Sweeping storytelling. This is everything an action adventure should be. Mr. Rollins, I am your new fan.”
—J.T. Cross, author of Lost Valley and Beneath the Deep
Books by Steve Rollins:
STANDALONE THRILLERS
The Rig
Kidnapped
The Jade Dagger
American Gigolo
Deal With the Devil
The Peaches of Wang Mu
The Quantico Connection
The Evil That Men Do
Steroid Blues
G-Man
STORM DONOVAN THRILLERS
Stormy Weather
Stormy Nights
Stormy Winter
Stormy Weather
Published by Steve Rollins
Copyright © 2014 by Steve Rollins
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Stormy Weather
Chapter One
Storm Donovan had just sat and ordered a Jack and Coke when Albert, his good friend and ex-partner, stepped into the restaurant. Albert spotted him and came over.
“You’re late,” Donovan said as Albert sat.
“What else is new? What did you order?”
“Jack and Coke.”
“Not even diet?” Albert waved to the waiter, who came right over. The restaurant, Morton’s, was busy, but the wait staff was always attentive. “Scotch on the rocks.” The waiter nodded and left.
“I don’t need to diet,” said Donovan.
“How old are you?”
“Forty-two.”
“And you think you’re going to stay skinny forever?”
“I’m not skinny,” said Storm. “I’m trim. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, well, you look skinny.”
Their drinks came. Both men took long pulls and sat back in their chairs. A group of beautiful women in short swing dresses came in. Both men admired them for a heartbeat or two.
“I need your help,” said Storm, as the ladies were shown to their table. Storm was certain one of them had caught his eye; a medium-sized, olive-skinned beauty.
“Figured you did,” said Albert. “It’s not often you say dinner’s on you over the phone.”
“It’s my way of softening you up.”
Their waiter came back to take their orders and Albert ordered the New York strip steak, without even looking. It was the most expensive thing on the menu, Donovan mused, but a promise was a promise.
“Consider me softened,” said Albert. Donovan himself kept looking at the menu quite indecisively. Eventually he ordered the veal with black truffle butter.
Albert was intrigued. “What do you need, Donovan?”
Albert Parker was an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Donovan had worked for the FBI, too, until he realized he hated taking orders from others. Ten years ago, he had opened his own law practice in New York and he liked being his own boss much better. He had five other attorneys on staff and, between his five juniors and himself, they had every legal niche covered. Donovan, himself, didn’t specialize. He’d become known in DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass) for taking any and every case that came to him. Parker, his ex-partner, was still his close friend, and Donovan used the man’s resources whenever he could.
“I need to know if the FBI has a file on someone,” said Donovan.
“We have files on lots of people. Tell me why I should give away government secrets to a private dick.”
“Because someone wants me dead.”
“I need more than that.”
“Because I’m buying you the best cut of steak on the East Coast.”
“You make a good argument, my friend. Do you see the hot chick looking at us?”
“She’s looking at me,” said Donovan. “So will you help me?”
“Why does he want you dead? Maybe it’s a valid reason. Maybe it’s something I can get on board for.”
“Asshole.”
Albert chuckled as their salads came. Both men put orders in for another round of drinks, and Donovan asked the waiter to deliver the attractive girl and her friends a couple of bottles of some good wine. “Good move,” said Albert. “You can kiss that hundred bucks goodbye.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said Donovan. “Anyway, I helped put his brother in jail for a long time.”
“Who are we talking about here?”
“Twin brothers. Quinn and Denny Lang.”
“Which one’s in jail?”
“Quinn.”
“So Denny wants you dead. And you know this how?”
“Word on the streets,” said Donovan.
“Streets?” Albert snorted. “You live in DUMBO.”
“We have streets here, too.”
“Fine. I’ll see what I can dig up. Hey, looks like you got that girl’s attention.”
Donovan had been watching, too. The waiter had delivered the two bottles of wine and made a great show of opening them for the ladies. He then pointed to Donovan, who promptly nodded and waved. The girl nodded, too, then raised her left hand high. Even from where Donovan sat, he could see the brilliant sparkle on her ring finger.
Albert laughed and slapped the table hard. “Married. You know how to pick them.”
The girl and her friends laughed, too, and when she was done laughing, she blew him a big kiss. “Better than nothing,” said Donovan. “Besides, married just means I can't keep her.”
Albert was taken aback by that. “Jeesh...”
As they waited for their order, Donovan went over the wine menu; he had half a mind to ask the sommelier to come and give his advice on a bottle that would complement his veal order, but he knew Albert would resent such pretensions.
“So, just out of curiosity,” Albert began. “What did this Quinn Lang go into the clink for?”
Donovan looked down for a second. “You'll find out.”
“I'll find out from you, or I won't find out anything.”
Donovan's lips moved as he swore silently. Albert never bluffed. He did not want to tell the man, but he needed the FBI information. “I got him convicted of smuggling.” The answer was reluctant, and he knew instantly that Albert would recognize it as such too.
“But?”
“But what?”
“But there's something you're not telling me.”
Donovan sighed. “They have a sister, Mara.”
Albert nodded. He understood instantly. “You screwed the bitch and when they confronted you, you got one of them locked up?”
“Something like that,” Donovan muttered. He quickly took a sip of his Jack and Coke and looked over at the married woman again. He smiled at her. She was a gorgeous creature and he could see her looking at their table. She smiled and he saw her brush her fingers through her hair. His eyes flickered down and he noticed she was angling her leg at him too. Hook, line and sinker, he thought.
Their orders arrived and Albert tucked into his order with relish. They had always gotten along, but there was a clear difference between the two men. Albert leaned over his plate and scarfed up his steak while Donovan sat up straight and carefully cut up his veal and transferred the food gracefully to his mouth.