Deadly Encounters

By Dale T. Phillips

Grieving over a past tragedy, troubled ex-con Zack Taylor has spent a lifetime in the shadows. He has finally found a measure of peace in Maine, helping others as a way of dealing with his grief, guilt, and rage. But he finds even simple problems have unintended consequences, and danger lurks in the most unlikely places. 

In these three tales, Zack encounters murderous individuals who hide below a surface of normality. He uncovers more than he bargained for at every turn, and must deal with the fallout of taking on deadly people willing to kill. 

 

In these three tales, Zack encounters murderous individuals who hide below a surface of normality. He uncovers more than he bargained for at every turn, and must deal with the fallout of taking on deadly people willing to kill. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dale T. Phillips
• Release date: Aug 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393882374

Dale T. Phillips

A lifelong student of mysteries, Maine, and the martial arts, Dale T. Phillips has combined all of these into the Zack Taylor series. His travels and background allow him to paint a compelling picture of a man with a mission, but one at odds with himself and his new environment. A longtime follower of mystery fiction, the author has crafted a hero in the mold of Travis McGee, Doc Ford, and John Cain, a moral man at heart who finds himself faced with difficult choices in a dangerous world. But Maine is different from the mean, big-city streets of New York, Boston, or L.A., and Zack must learn quickly if he is to survive. Dale studied writing with Stephen King, and has published over 70 short stories, non-fiction, and more. He has appeared on stage, television (including Jeopardy), and in an independent feature film. He co-wrote and acted in a short political satire film. He has traveled to all 50 states, Mexico, Canada, and through Europe. He can be found at www.daletphillips.com

Book preview

Deadly Encounters

3 Zack Taylor Short Stories

Dale T. Phillips

Deadly Encounters

Copyright 2020 Dale T. Phillips

Cover Design copyright 2020 Melinda Phillips

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or actual locations, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no portion of these stories may be reproduced without written permission from the author.

Other works by Dale T. Phillips

Shadow of the Wendigo (Suspense)

Neptune City (Mystery)

The Zack Taylor Mystery Series

A Darkened Room

A Sharp Medicine

A Certain Slant of Light

A Shadow on the Wall

A Fall From Grace

A Memory of Grief

Story Collections

The Big Book of Genre Stories (Different Genres)

Halls of Horror (Horror)

Jumble Sale (Different Genres)

Crooked Paths (Mystery/Crime)

More Crooked Paths (Mystery/Crime)

The Last Crooked Paths (Mystery/Crime)

Fables and Fantasies (Fantasy)

More Fables and Fantasies (Fantasy)

Strange Tales (Magic Realism, Paranormal)

Apocalypse Tango (End of the World)

The Return of Fear (Horror)

Non-Fiction Career Help

How to Improve Your Interviewing Skills

With Other Authors

Rogue Wave: Best New England Crime Stories

Red Dawn: Best New England Crime Stories  

Windward: Best New England Crime Stories

For more information about the author and his works, go to: http://www.daletphillips.com

Table of Contents

Opportunity Knocks

The Package Thief

Crossroads

***

Opportunity Knocks

THE GUY I WAS SUPPOSED to meet came in and spoke to the restaurant hostess, and was shown to the table I’d reserved. He had neat, short hair, glasses, and was dressed in typical preppie style with Docker pants, blue chambray shirt, and boat shoes. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the place as he walked through and took his seat.

When meeting strangers who want my services, I choose very public places. Some might call me overly paranoid with my precautions, but a lot of people want to do me harm, so I err on the side of safety. Not that it’s a guarantee, as someone not too long ago had tried to kill me at an art show, of all things. But restaurants were good places to scope out visitors, since people couldn’t easily loiter or hide. I’d got there half an hour before and hung out at the bar so I could check out the patrons and staff. No one had done anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, so things seemed okay. I’d tipped the bartender generously when I sat down, so he didn’t squawk at me for hanging out and drinking only cranberry juice. Alcohol was one more thing that wanted to do me harm, so I didn’t touch it anymore.

The guy was soft-looking and pale, and didn’t look anything like a threat. My experience with different levels of violence made me keenly aware of who was a potential danger and who was benign. I walked over and sat in the other chair, the one close to an exit and with my back to the wall. Wild Bill Hickok had been killed when he sat in a poker game with his back to the door. I was no Wild Bill, but I still didn’t want to take unnecessary chances.

He looked me over. You Zack Taylor?

I nodded.

I’m Arthur Detweiler. I hear you help people.

Some people, I said. For a price, and it depends on the kind of help they need.

It’s my wife.

I shook my head. Sorry, buddy. I’m a security consultant, not a private investigator. I don’t do divorce cases.

The guy smiled, kind of a rueful thing. It’s worse than that. I think she’s trying to kill me. I want you to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Well, that was a first. I was saved from having to respond by a suddenly-appearing busboy filling our water glasses.

When he left, I spoke. Before we go further, how’d you get my name?

Detweiler produced one of my business cards. Friend of mine knows J.C. Reed, who I hear is your friend. He got me this.

Okay, why do you think she wants to kill you?

"I heard her on the phone, just a piece of the conversation. She said, ‘It’s either kill him or get a new bike, and I can borrow one of those anytime I want.’ Then she laughed."

That’s it? Maybe she was kidding.

Well, last night someone tried to run me down as I was crossing Congress Street.

I shrugged. I’ve had a couple of similar events. You sure they were aiming at you?

I was in a crosswalk. A black van with tinted windows suddenly gunned it, and I jumped back just in time. He even clipped another car. Never even slowed down.

You get a plate number?

No. I was too shook up.

Okay, suppose this was genuine. Why would she want to kill you?

Money. My partner and I have a good tech business. Insurance alone on me for the business and personal is a lot, plus the company equity. And we’re going to negotiate for a sale, several million more.

Divorce has less risk and no jail time.

We’ve got a pre-nup agreement. We split, she doesn’t get much.

The waiter appeared, handed us menus, and rattled off a few specials. He asked if we wanted drinks, and we declined. I told him we’d need a little time before we ordered. Then I studied the man across from me. Detweiler looked worried and tired around the eyes and mouth, a tightness that shows strain. Why did people sign pre-nuptial agreements, unless they were dead sure they’d need it later? And if that was the case, why get married at all?

He seemed to read my thoughts. It was Frank, my business partner, who made me do the pre-nup. He’s not a fan of Pauline, said she was after my money. He wanted some solid protection for the company, since he’s got the other half.

Some people talk big, but murder for hire is something most won’t do. Is she that type of woman?

I wouldn’t have thought so. But she used to hang with a rough crowd, back in the day.

What kind of rough?

Bikers. She’s got the tramp stamp, knew some guys in a gang.

That your kind of marriage material?

He looked embarrassed. She said she was pregnant. I don’t even know if that was true, because four weeks later, she wasn’t. Too late by then. I guess I’m now believing she only married me for the money.

How long?

Eight months.

Still newlyweds. You two getting along?

Mostly. A few fights. She wants to go places, do things, but I have to work, you know? And she complains the money I give her isn’t enough.

I thought about it. So how’s she going to get someone to kill you if she doesn’t have any money? A cut of the take afterward?

He chuckled, but here was no humor in the sound. She won ten grand on a scratch ticket. Damned lottery’s going to kill me.

And that’s what she wants to do with it?

Turn ten grand into a few million? Sure, why not? Opportunity knocks. I could understand his bitterness. I thought we were happy. Guess not.

You’ve been working a lot, huh?

Yeah, all I’ve got is my business, and we’re negotiating to sell. No time for hobbies anymore. Guess I’m too boring for her.

You think she’s seeing someone else?

"Who