TEMPTATION TOWN: The Jack Barnett / Las Vegas Series, #1

By Mike Dennis

"Dennis' staccato prose keeps the pages turning." -- Jonathan Woods, author of BAD JUJU & Other Tales Of Mayhem And Madness

Jack Barnett has had it with the private eye business. They took his license away in LA, and fearing criminal prosecution, he split town in the middle of the night for Las Vegas, where anyone can become anonymous.

He swears off the business, but his money runs low and when a man offers him $5000 to find his missing daughter, he agrees. He soon wishes he hadn't when the haunting memory of a woman from his past gets in the way.

TEMPTATION TOWN is a hardboiled novelette, the first of the Jack Barnett series from Mike Dennis. Set in the steaming underbelly of Las Vegas, these tales of a reluctant ex-private investigator drag the reader down the darkest streets of Sin City, USA.

The book also comes with an exclusive preview of the second Jack Barnett installment, a novelette called HARD CASH. The third entry in the series, a full novel called THE DOWNTOWN DEAL, is currently available.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Dennis
• Release date: Jul 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781467973298

Book preview

TEMPTATION

TOWN

––––––––

by

MIKE DENNIS

THE JACK BARNETT / LAS VEGAS SERIES

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is unintended and entirely coincidental. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Mike Dennis.

Published by Mike Dennis

Copyright 2011 by Mike Dennis

Cover designed by Jeroen ten Berge

Edited by Harry Dewulf

Yesterday could never really be discarded.

It was always a part of now. There was just no way to get rid of it.

No way to push it aside, or throw it in an ash can,

or dig a hole and bury it.

For all buried memories were nothing more than

slow-motion boomerangs,

taking their own sweet time to come back.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

About the Author

Links to other Mike Dennis books

Preview of Hard Cash

1

NOBODY is actually from Las Vegas. It's one of those towns that eats its own. Needs a constant supply of fresh blood, like a vampire.

Fresh blood to keep coming with outlandish ideas that won't work anywhere else. Fresh blood to keep bringing money in to dump on the tables, or pour down the slots, or drop it on somebody else's questionable deals.

Las Vegas. A grifter's heaven for sure, because there's always a new mark somewhere. They flow through McCarran Airport and the Greyhound terminal every day by the thousands, looking to throw money at someone or something, or even just the promise of something. You can find them up in the ritzy suites at the Venetian, in the desperate two-bit motels on the edge of downtown, and everywhere in between.

Even people born and raised here aren't from here. Not really. First of all, there aren't that many of them to begin with. Then, their parents quite likely came from somewhere else. In most cases, the kids leave as soon as they're old enough, looking to connect with more sensible locations. Most of those who defy the odds and stay eventually wish they hadn't, because what the city needs can't be produced locally.

Halt the flow of fresh blood into Las Vegas and you might as well halt the flow of water. The whole place would dry right up.

≈≈≈

Take me, for instance. I moved up here from LA about eight months ago, back in May of '01. An old buddy of mine was a pit boss at the Desert Inn and told me he could get me on there in some kind of job.

Moving seemed like the right thing to do because things were starting to close in on me in the City of Angels. I'd lost my private investigator's license for pushing a guy around and doing some other stuff while trying to collect a debt for a client. Problem was, the guy had big juice, so before I knew it, my license was gone. He was threatening criminal action against me, too, so late one night, I packed up and headed out while I still could.

Not long after I got to Las Vegas, they announced they were going to blow the Desert Inn up. Then, September 11th blew a hole in the country. So I stayed on, scuffling around in the poker rooms for awhile until I could find something.

Well, it wasn't long until something found me.

It started late one winter night downtown at Binion's, two or three months after they imploded the DI. I was sitting at a low-limit seven-card stud table. A hand tapped my shoulder twice. It belonged to the swing shift supervisor.

Jack, he said in a low tone. Someone here to see you. He gestured toward the cardroom entrance.

Glancing that way, I