Bad News Travels
- Автор: Суэйн Джеймс
- Серия: Lancaster & Daniels #3
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: Thomas & Mercer
- ISBN: 978-1-5420-1644-5
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «Bad News Travels». Краткое содержание книги:
No sooner do they arrive than suspicions are aroused. There’s the pair of Russians who seem to be watching every move the family makes. A final, cryptic phone call Martin Daniels made to his granddaughter. Strange blood evidence on his estate. More than $1 million missing from Martin’s account. And his cell phone, wiped clean, along with clues to a double life. To Beth, it’s disturbingly clear: the man she loved was a stranger.
As she and Jon delve into Martin’s past, they have no idea where the secrets will take them. Or how dangerous it will be to expose the conspiracies, the cover-ups, and the terrible truths of Martin’s life — and death.
“You’re not going to arrest me?” the kid asked breathlessly.
“I wasn’t planning to. Let’s start with your name.”
“It’s Micah,” the boy said.
“Why aren’t you in school, Micah?”
“Teacher’s conference. We got the day off.”
Micah looked about fourteen, with a curly mop of brown hair and thick glasses. He still hadn’t mustered the courage to make eye contact, and looked scared out of his wits.
“What were you doing back there, Micah?” he asked.
“I like to look through the trash at the park, sometimes there’s stuff that I can salvage,” the boy said. “When the police cruiser drove in, I got scared, and hid.”
“How much did you see?”
“All of it. You beat the boogers out of those cops. Pow, pow, pow. They didn’t know what hit them. Where did you learn how to do that?”
“In the navy. They made a man out of me. Taught me how to fight.”
Micah finally looked at him. He didn’t act scared anymore.
“Can I see your tattoo?” he asked.
Lancaster parted his shirt so his shoulder was bared. Micah was transfixed.
“That’s cool. How come it’s a skeleton?” the boy asked.
“They call it the bone frog,” he explained. “It signifies a comrade lost in the line of duty. I got mine after a buddy got killed during a mission in Afghanistan.”
“Your friend died?”
“That’s right. He was my best friend. I got the tattoo to honor him.”
“What are those square things beneath the frog?”
“His dog tags.” Lancaster buttoned his shirt. “You want a soda or something?”
Micah shook his head. His eyes had a faraway look as he tried to imagine what it was like to lose your best friend in a godforsaken part of the world. It was a hard concept to grasp when you were young. When it did grab you, you stopped being a kid.
“Can I ask you a question, Micah?”
The boy thought about it, then nodded.
“Did you take a video of me beating up those policemen?”
Micah grinned. Of course he’d taken a video of the fight. Any person in possession of a cell phone was an evidence gathering machine, capable of taking photos, videos, and audio of any event they witnessed. This was especially true of teenagers, who immediately posted the images on social media for the rest of the world to see.
“I got the whole thing,” he said.
Lancaster took out his wallet. From the billfold he removed two crisp fifty-dollar bills. The boy’s eyes grew wide.
“How would you like to make a hundred bucks, Micah?” he asked.
“A hundred bucks? What do I have to do?” the boy said.
“Two things. First, I’ll give you fifty bucks if you send me a copy of the video.”
“You have yourself a deal.”
Micah removed an iPhone from his backpack. Lancaster read him his cell phone number, and the boy texted him a copy of the video. Lancaster watched thirty seconds of the video and saw that the boy had captured the entire event, but had muted the audio. He handed him one of the fifties, and watched Micah stuff it into his pocket.
“I’ll give you the other fifty if you’ll erase the video from your phone,” he said.
“You want me to get rid of it?”
“That’s right. Those men might come after you, if they find out you have it. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Micah reluctantly agreed and erased the video. Lancaster handed him the second fifty and told him it was nice meeting him. He entered the convenience store and purchased two iced teas. Coming outside, he tossed Micah one of the drinks.
“How old do I have to be to enlist in the navy?” Micah asked.
“Eighteen, unless you have your parents’ consent. Then you can be seventeen.”
“How old were you?”
“Eighteen. My parents didn’t want me to go.” He got back into the sedan and started the engine. It was a bad way to end the conversation, and he lowered his window.
“They got over it,” he added.
The Matanzas River ran the entire length of Saint Augustine, and led to the city’s port. He let Google take him there, and parked in a spot on the side of the road. Taking the policemen’s guns off the passenger seat, he got out, and tossed them into the water. He had taken three years of Spanish in high school, and knew that Matanzas was the Spanish word for massacre. It was a strange thing to name a river.
He drove back to Flagler Hospital. The sedan was fully equipped, and he heard a police dispatcher barking over the radio. She was looking for Sykes, and he had an urge to answer the call, and pretend he was the detective.
He decided that was a bad idea, and kept driving.
He had told Sykes that he would leave the sedan in the hospital lot, which in hindsight was a dumb thing to say. Better to call Sykes after he parked the sedan, and tell him where it was. There was the chance that Sykes and his goon squad would be waiting for him, hoping for a little payback.
But it was a slim chance.
More than likely, they’d go to a walk-in clinic to get their wounds treated, then find a diner where they could sit in a corner and fabricate a story to explain what had happened. They’d then have to memorize the story, and take turns reciting it. If one of them tripped up, they’d all go down.
As he pulled into the hospital lot, Beth called him. She sounded angry.
“Where the hell are you?”
“I had an unwanted encounter with three deputies in the hospital cafeteria,” he said. “They made me leave with them.”
“They kidnapped you?”
“Afraid so. It didn’t end well.” He paused. “For them.”
“Did you beat the living daylights out of them?”
“Guilty as charged. Sykes was behind it.”
“What a surprise. I’m in the hospital parking lot. Where are you?”
“I just pulled in. I borrowed Sykes’s car. Are you in your rental?”
“Yes, why?”
“Don’t get out. Let me scope things out, and make sure they’re not hanging around. See you in a few.”
He circled the parking lot and did not see any sign of the law. He parked in a visitor space and hustled over to Beth’s rental and hopped in. She had the car in reverse before his door was completely closed. While she drove, he pulled up Micah’s video on his cell phone and played it for her. She laughed under her breath.
“Who shot the video?” she asked.
“A fourteen-year-old kid.”
“Sykes won’t take this lying down.”
“I’d like to think that I taught him and his boys a valuable lesson.”
“Which is what?”
“Never underestimate an opponent. Sykes told me to leave town. He said we were poking our noses where they didn’t belong.”
“Sounds like he’s running scared.”
“I agree. But we still don’t know of what. How did your meeting with the head of human resources go? Were you able to get your hands on the video of your father?”
“Yes. She put up a fight, but I prevailed.”
Beth grew quiet, fighting back tears.
“I’m assuming you watched it,” he said.
“All eleven minutes of it.” Then she said, “It was awful.”
Chapter 26
When Daniels was a teenager, she’d witnessed a tragic automobile accident. She had never forgotten it, nor the lessons she’d learned.
Melanie had been accepted at the University of Pennsylvania, and their father had decided to take the family out for a celebratory dinner. In their town was a restaurant that served authentic Northern Italian cuisine, and they’d eaten enough pasta and desserts to make themselves uncomfortable.
Her father had driven home. An Eric Clapton and B. B. King duet called “Riding with the King” played on the car stereo. Her father loved the blues, and the music was loud. He braked for the light at an intersection, which was illuminated with streetlights. With no vehicles in front of them, they had a clear view of the cross street.