Bedtime Story: Silver and Scotch – Night 42
Silver and Scotch
Copyright 2015 by Barbara Hinske
Jim Harrison slapped the New York Times angrily on the arm of his chair, waking his grandson. “Something wrong, gramps?”
“No. You go back to sleep. I’m going to get a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back.” He smiled at his grandson. Scott was doing great. His body showed no signs of rejecting the transplant and he was way ahead of schedule on his recovery. Everyone was optimistic about his prospects. Jim didn’t care if he and Nancy had to sell their house and drain their savings to help pay for it. He would go back to his security job and they could make do.
Harrison walked toward the nurse’s station. Blake was still out there. He’d just read about the theft at the Calhoun Mansion. It had to be Blake. It was like he was taunting Harrison. Well, let him taunt. Harrison needed to stay right where he was, with his family.
Harrison paused. Maybe he had the upper hand after all. The jeweler who served as Blake’s fence was in jail and the Russian mob had taken over that aspect of the business. No one in the diamond district was stupid enough to take on the mob. He’d start the rumor that the NYPD was about to pick Blake up and offer him immunity if he gave up his fence. The Russian mob would deal with Scotch Blake in a way that the criminal justice system couldn’t. He’d probably wind up at the bottom of the East River. Could Harrison live with that? He thought he could.