David Wolf: Books 1-4

by Jeff Carson

the man, but couldn’t recall from where. Wolf’s head ached. He looked back at Rossi, a movement that sent a pulse of pain bouncing through his skull. “It’s Sergeant Wolf, dickhead.” Rossi’s eyes widened with amusement. “Oh, I am sorry.” He pointed to the body on the floor. “The man you murdered tonight.” Wolf looked again at the body, then back to Rossi. “The man who also murdered you, I’m sorry to say.” He took another drag of his cigarette. “You two shot each other.” Wolf leaned forward to sit up, to shake the cobwebs. He went dizzy and fell forward. Subconsciously, Wolf had assumed he was somehow fastened to the chair, but there was just a pair of steel cuffs on his wrists behind his back, so he kept plummeting forward. Rossi caught him and pushed him upright again. “Whoa, attento, Deputy Wolf! I guess I should not have hit you so hard. You are not doing so well.” Wolf remembered the pistol in his face. The side street. Being escorted out at gunpoint by Cezar. The walk. Kicking Cezar in the balls. The phone calls. Wolf smiled at the memory of Cezar buckled over on his side on the damp alley street. Rossi sat back and returned the smile with a tilt of his head. “What is it ... Sergeant Wolf?” Wolf’s smile vanished and he glared into Rossi’s eyes. “I’m going to kill you, Rossi. You were the one who killed my brother, and I’m going to kill you for that.” Rossi inhaled sharply and sat back, launching into a lazy overhead stretch with his arms. “I don’t think so, Mr. Wolf....