Our Dangerous Lies: A Dexter Nash Novella, #1

By Bob Moats

Dexter Nash was a killer. He murdered for money and it was a business to him. He came out of a bad marriage and decided with all the money he earned murdering people, that he had hidden away, he would retire. A visit to a bar he used to frequent to get his hits from the man who procured other hitmen was his first mistake. His misfortune was to meet the woman who would turn his world around and not in a good way. He then met a man who was looking for the woman and wanted something back that she possessed. Something that was stolen by a man she was involved with years back and it was worth millions. The hunt goes on for finding the valuable object and Dex will face a danger of his own. A hitman was after him. This is the first book about Dexter Nash, will he live to return in another book? This book is a novella, shorter than a novel, but longer than a short story. It’s a quick read on a late night. 
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bob Moats
• Release date: Dec 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386933175

Bob Moats

Detroit area resident, Bob Moats, has been writing short stories and plays for as long as he can remember. He has lost most of his original stories, typed or handwritten, in the numerous moves he has made from his hometown of Fraser, Michigan to Northern Michigan, to Las Vegas and back to Fraser, where he now lives. Moats became one of the causalities of unemployment a year ago, and had time on his hands to finally pursue a life long dream of writing a full blown crime novel. Thus was born the first book, "Classmate Murders".What followed was a series of seven books starting with "The Classmate Murders" which introduces the main character, Jim Richards, who has to admit he has become a senior citizen, reluctantly. Richards, one day, receives an email from a childhood sweetheart asking for his help, but by the time he reaches her, she has been murdered. His life turns around and he is pulled into numerous murders of women from his high school who he hasn't seen in forty years. Along with a friend of his, Buck, a big, mustached biker, they go off to track down the killer before he can get to one former classmate, Penny Wickens, a TV talk show host who Jim has just fallen for while protecting her. The killer is also murdering the women right out from under police protection, driving homicide detective Will Trapper crazy, and he slowly depends on Jim to help. There's humor, suspense, wild chases across suburban Detroit with cops, classic cars and motorcycle clubs; murder, mayhem, a good amount of romance and a twist ending.Jim and his crime fighters, continue in the other books, traveling to Las Vegas twice, back to Detroit and out to New York to solve murders involving dominatrix; mistresses; Bridezillas; magic and strip clubs.Book titles: Classmate Murders; Vegas Showgirl Murders; Dominatrix Murders; Mistress Murders; Bridezilla Murders; Magic Murders; Strip Club Murders and Made-for-TV Murders.

Book preview

Our Dangerous Lies - By Bob Moats

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Chapter 1

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I felt like going out and killing someone.

It was a gloomy, morose day outside my apartment in the North-east corner of Detroit. The kind of day that made me feel gloomy and morose. I was feeling this way all too frequently and it was beginning to bother me. Outside it looked like it could rain or snow, I didn’t care one way or the other. I didn’t need to go out, but I should, just to get rid of this cabin fever I was developing.

I hadn’t worked in a couple of years; I didn’t need to mainly because I had plenty of money stashed away. The money that the Harpy didn’t get her hands on when we divorced. She never knew how much I was really worth or she would have never let herself divorce me. Actually, it was her bastard of a father who encouraged her to kick me to the curb, and that she did. I lost just about everything in the settlement, if you could call it that. Besides, she and her old man were pillaging the house while I was away. I would come home from a business trip and find the washing machine and dryer gone, along with the refrigerator. For crying out loud, the refrigerator? They cleaned me out pretty good.

I didn’t care, I just wanted her out of my life. I never told her about the money I had hidden away, so I let her have all the crappy household goods. I would just replace everything. Over the two years since we were divorced, I regrouped my life. I started seeing other women that I would meet in bars and never let it last more than one night. I was starting to feel a little hollow inside, not having someone to share my life.

My life before I met the Harpy was complicated. I was what one would call a hitman. I murdered people for money. It was a lucrative business, and gave me enough unreported cash to sock away and live very well once I gave up the life of crime. Unfortunately, I met the Harpy and we started dating. I would have to go out on a job and would tell her I had to travel for business. I lied and said I worked for a consulting firm giving motivational seminars, which meant I could be away for a day or two while I stalked my prey.

I found a number of those in my profession to have normal lives outside of murder. Many had families and homes to live in. I had that same dream of maintaining a normal life to counterbalance the killing I did. I never took murder personally, I was hired to do a job and I had a standard that my victims were to be bad people. I never killed a spouse that didn’t deserve it. Although a number of times after we married, I wanted to kill the Harpy, but resisted the urge.

The marriage was falling apart not long after we wed. I was gone on my business trips frequently and she felt I wasn’t giving her enough attention. I waited for the time to be right before I told her the truth about my profession and the money I had tucked away. I was glad I held off, mostly because she was always being a bitch about things. I figured that it may not last so I kept the money and my job a secret.

I have no idea where she went off to, as long as it was far from me. Her father was a cop, so I always avoided the city he worked in. I knew he would find a way to pull me over and harass me. I felt he was a candidate for one of my hits, but it was too close to home for that.

I didn’t go back to being a hitman since I had the time and the money to live life. I was retired now and trying to enjoy it. Unfortunately, I was getting the urge to hook up with a woman on a more frequent basis than a one night stand. Man is not a monogamist animal, but we crave the comforts of one woman, even if we stray a bit. All men do it and so do women. I decided if I were to hook up with a female again, it would be as friends with benefits. We would maintain our own residences and spend time together enjoying each other’s company. I just didn’t know where to find such a woman.

I went to my laptop and Googled sites for matchmaking. Wow, had it come down to this? I read the different companies that promised eternal bliss with a willing partner. After putting up with six of these sites, I shut down the computer and went to get my jacket.

December in Michigan was usually snowy, but we were having unusual weather. It would be nice one day then lousy the next. I still had to bundle up because I hated any temperature below sixty. I went out to my car, the one I kept in the divorce. I had to have it for business I told them and they agreed. I had a remote starter which was warming the car before I got to it. I also had the remote to be sure the car didn’t blow up with me in it. The hitman business was cut throat and not above putting the competition out of the way.

I sat in my car wondering where I would go now. My favorite pick-up bar wasn’t jumping for another six hours. I wasn’t the type to go to a gym, I was keeping in good shape with my workout equipment at home. I had always had to keep fit in my line of work. Many times I had to do feats of derring-do to track a victim and having to get away fast. Even though I was retired now, I still maintained my optimum physical appearance and stamina. I found it came in handy during sex. When I could get it.

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Chapter 2

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I knew a little dive bar on Cass Avenue that I used to frequent back when I started in the business. It was called the Lazy Ace and it was a hangout for a number of paid assassins. It was the wrong place to be if you were an accountant or a hair dresser. I knew most of the rowdies that hung there although I hadn’t been in since my divorce. I got most of my hits in this place, not that I wanted to get back in the business, but it would be interesting to see how life went on without me. I didn’t want to sound too egotistical but I was once the baddest hitman in Detroit. Two words that struck fear anywhere in the country, Detroit hitman.

I did miss traveling around the country seeking corporate criminals or embezzling ex-Mob fugitives. Yeah, I was the hitman brought in by the Mobs when they couldn’t handle the job. I was part detective, bounty hunter and executioner for a good fee.

I parked in the lot next to the building, opened the console of my car and took out the Glock I kept there for emergencies. I checked to be sure it was loaded and tucked it behind me, under my jacket. I got out and went in, letting my eyes adjust to the low lighting. It was fairly quiet for the time of the day. There were murmurs as I walked to a stool at the bar and sat. I spun around to survey the room, there were about ten people I had never seen before. None of them looked very tough or ready to kill, so I wondered if the bar had a change of clientele since I