Two Tofu Tacos, a Taurus TX22, a Taycan, and a Ton of Trouble

By Alan Orloff

Blackmail is such an ugly word. Even uglier when it’s happening to you, especially when you don’t know who’s behind it, and defense lawyer Jefferson Bell doesn’t have a clue. Disgruntled client? Current mistress? One of a handful of pissed-off ex-mistresses? An opportunistic co-worker? A team of blackmailers looking for a big payday?

If the truth comes out, however, it will destroy his career and cause the end of Bell’s marriage. And he can’t let that happen, not after all the hard work he’d put in, not after all sacrifices he’d endured over the years. So following the advice of a friend, Bell visits a multi-purpose taco truck and procures what he needs to bring the extortionist down, and hard. Now he just has to find him. Or her. Or them.

With the help of his buddy and former client Rags Richland, Bell follows the trail through Chicago. When the blackmailer sets up an exchange, Bell attempts to seize the opportunity and spring a trap. But things go sideways, and Bell is no closer to learning his tormentor’s identity. To complicate matters, Bell’s situation has attracted the attention of the managing partner at his law firm, who gives Bell an ultimatum: fix things and make sure there’s no blowback on the firm. The ultimatum comes with a veiled part: Or else.

The more Bell searches, the more things come unraveled, and the more his desperation grows. And keeps growing, right up to the snapping point.

Then blows right past it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Down & Out Books
• Release date: Jul 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005782405

Alan Orloff

Alan Orloff has published ten novels and more than forty short stories. His work has won an Anthony, an Agatha, a Derringer, and two ITW Thriller Awards. He's also been a finalist for the Shamus Award and has had a story selected for THE BEST AMERICAN MYSTERY STORIES anthology ("Rule Number One," first appearing in SNOWBOUND from Level Best Books). Alan's next novel, SANCTUARY MOTEL, will be released in October from Level Best Books. He loves cake and arugula, but not together. Never together. He lives and writes in South Florida, where the examples of hijinks are endless.

Book preview

TWO TOFU TACOS, A TAURUS TX22,

A TAYCAN, AND A TON OF TROUBLE

Guns + Tacos Season Four Episode 19

Alan Orloff

Series Created and Edited by

Michael Bracken and Trey R. Barker

Copyright © 2022 by Alan Orloff

All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover design by Zach McCain and Margo Nauert

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Two Tofu Tacos, a Taurus TX22,

a Taycan, and a Ton of Trouble

About the Author

Books by the Author

Preview from the twentieth episode of Guns + Tacos

Two Black Bean and Shrimp Quesadillas

and a Pink Ruger LCP by Joseph S. Walker

Zero to sixty in 3.8 seconds. 482 Horsepower. All electric. 227-mile range per charge. Pronounced tie-con. Three deluxe car washes shy of $151,000.

I sat in my cherry metallic Porsche Taycan 4S across the street from the taco truck. There was a short line, never diminishing, never growing in the quarter hour I’d been watching. Every couple of minutes, somebody would get their order and another customer would get in line. Almost as if the customers were in the same choreographed lunchtime production, as if they’d been coming to this very taco truck at the back of an auto garage’s parking lot on this very Southside backstreet every day for years.

Maybe they had. All I knew was that this was my first—and last—time visiting this particular neighborhood, and I wouldn’t even be here except I needed one of their lunchtime specials and this was where Rags had directed me. It was also a lot less likely—impossible, really—that I’d be recognized in this part of town. None of my friends, or passing acquaintances even, would ever find themselves here. Not willingly.

As for being remembered, that was another story.

I wished I’d switched cars with Cammie and taken her dependable, if uninspired, Volvo to work this morning, although she would have most likely seen through any of my lame explanations. I never let Cammie drive the Porsche, and she’d have her antennae up if I even suggested it.

I should have borrowed a car from one of the other lawyers in his firm, although that would have raised their suspicions. I stifled a sigh. Maybe nobody would notice me getting out of the Porsche. I’d driven around the block a few times searching for a space that was far enough from the taco truck so people might not realize I’d arrived in it, yet close enough to keep an eye on it.

Probably not a lot of Taycans around these parts.

I looked both ways, and when the coast was clear, I hopped out and quickly crossed the street, locking the car behind me with the key fob. With any luck, my business would be conducted quickly. Wait in line for a few minutes, order, pay, and be back on the highway in ten minutes, fifteen tops.

I slipped into line behind a pair of burly guys in hardhats and orange safety vests. They glanced at me, then took a longer look, taking in my thousand-dollar suit and five-hundred-dollar shoes, probably wondering what the hell I was doing there, rather than dining at Morton’s.

I wished I was at Morton’s, swapping courtroom war stories with other defense attorneys, but I was fairly certain Morton’s didn’t sell what I needed.

I glanced around nervously. A few people sat at dilapidated picnic tables, wolfing down their tacos. A handful of others rested on the curb under some shade trees. My gaze flitted back at my car. Still there.

The three women ahead of the two construction guys got their orders, and the line inched forward. A lanky teenager wearing a hoodie with the sleeves cut off stepped in behind me, and I could practically feel the kid’s eyes assessing me, just like the construction workers. Rich