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.
The truth be told, he did know that. He also knew that tourists regularly got lost following the river, since they assumed it flowed south like most rivers did.
“That’s amazing,” he said.
“Palatka used to be a major port city, and had the most beautiful hotels in the country until a fire burned them all down. Bet you didn’t know that either.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Let me close out my computer, and I’ll show you the right way.”
As she shut her computer down, Lancaster removed his cell phone from his pocket. Holding it below the counter, he texted Beth the all clear.
They went outside and stood on the front porch. The night air was cool and crisp, and Carrie gave a little shudder. She lifted her hand and pointed.
“The park is a little over a mile away. There are three ways to get there. You can take River Street, or you can take Kirby Street, or you can take Crill Avenue, which is about a half mile longer, and will take you past the elementary school.”
“Which route is the most scenic?”
“River Street. It takes you right past the Saint John’s River. If you leave early enough, you can catch the rowing club out for their morning exercises.”
“Can we walk it?”
“Sorry. There’s no sidewalk.”
One of Florida’s great mysteries was the absence of sidewalks or walking paths on its roads. Environmentalists claimed the auto industry had engineered this in an effort to force people to drive cars, but he suspected it was due to the state’s sheer enormity.
“How early does the rowing club come out?” he asked.
“They start at seven and quit right around nine, before it gets too hot.”
“I think we’ll take River Street.”
She gave him directions. Left, right, left, right.
“Do you know what time the gardens open for visitors?” he asked.
“It’s open from nine to five, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
Enough time had passed for Beth to have cased the suite and found the hidden camera. He thanked Carrie for her help, and they went back inside to the lobby.
Dalton was kneeling behind the front desk, his eyes glued to the video monitor beneath the counter. He wore black leather and looked like a character out of Mad Max. The expression on his face was best described as murderous.
“I thought you were going out for a spin on your motorcycle,” Carrie said.
“Change of plans.” Dalton lifted his gaze and stared at Lancaster. “The room not to your liking?”
“It’s fine,” Lancaster said. “I was just asking Carrie for directions to the Ravine Gardens State Park. My girlfriend and I want to visit it tomorrow.”
“Sure you were.”
Dalton stood up and drew a handgun from his jacket pocket. His draw was lightning fast, and caught Lancaster by surprise as the weapon was aimed at him.
“You came downstairs to distract my mother so your partner could search the suite,” Dalton said. “I’m watching her on the monitor right now. I knew you were cops the moment I laid eyes on you. Put your hands in the air.”
Lancaster obeyed. Carrie frisked him and dropped three small handguns onto the counter. Dalton’s eyes grew wide.
“Who the fuck carries three guns?” he asked.
Dalton made him sit in the swivel chair behind the counter. Carrie pulled a large handgun out of a safe, and pointed it at him.
“Shoot him if he does anything stupid,” Dalton said.
“You bet I will,” his mother said.
“I’m going upstairs to deal with his lady friend.” Dalton headed for the stairs. As he started to go up, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Lancaster.
“Three guns? Why do you need three guns?”
“You can never be too careful,” Lancaster said.
“I’ll remember that,” he said, and vanished up the stairs.
Chapter 35
After Jon left, Beth turned off the overhead lights, kicked off her shoes, and lay on the bed with her head propped up on the pillows. If she was being spied upon, then she needed to play the part of a tourist, and not arouse any suspicion.
She found the remote and began to surf. She spent little time watching TV, her spare hours devoted to exercise and working cold cases. The shows that flicked by were foreign to her, the fresh-faced actors all strangers.
There were several hundred channels, and as she got up into the higher numbers, she found dozens devoted to porn. They featured every conceivable sexual partnering, and had movie-inspired names like Forrest Hump, The RawShank Rehumption, and Driving Miss Daisy (into a headboard). The sheer volume made her suspicious.
The last was Shaving Private Ryan. The promo copy boasted of a young soldier with his hot bride, the sex as wild as anything you’ve ever seen. Now sitting on the edge of the bed, she hit the “Pay” button.
The video began to play. A skinny kid in an army uniform, his bride in a frilly dress. Neither looked older than twenty. They ripped off their clothes and went at it.
The sex was frantic and didn’t feel staged. They were really in love, and it came through with every pant and pelvic thrust.
She studied the room they were making love in. It was nicely appointed, with an ornate headboard and lots of antique furniture. Not a hotel room, more likely a private residence, or a B&B.
She sampled several other videos in the collection. She watched an interracial couple perform oral sex in a bedroom with a beautiful view of the ocean, an older couple make love missionary style in a room with a chandelier and wall sconces, and two athletic men get it on in a room with French doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking a courtyard with a bubbling fountain. As part of her job, she watched a fair amount of porn, and she knew when someone was going through the motions and faking an orgasm. These folks weren’t faking.
She killed the picture. Was that the scam? Were different B&Bs secretly filming their customers, and sharing the videos? People who liked porn consumed a lot of it, often in one sitting. A library this big would generate huge revenue.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. If different B&Bs were sharing porn, there might very well be a video of her father having sex with Katya that was out there. She tried to block it out of her thoughts, and found that she couldn’t.
“God damn it, Daddy,” she said under her breath. She wanted this to be over, but knew that it would never truly be over. The truth — whatever it turned out to be — would be painful, and would stay with her forever. The great memories of her father from childhood would be replaced by images he’d so indiscreetly left behind.
And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
Her cell phone vibrated. It was Jon.
All clear, his text read.
She hopped off the bed and started her search. There were two places to hide a camera — in a ceiling light fixture, or behind a two-way mirror. Ceiling cameras could be bought online and were easy to install, and therefore more common to find.
The honeymoon suite had a desk with a sturdy wood chair. She slid the chair beneath the light fixture in the room’s center, and stood on it. The fixture screamed Pottery Barn and had a hundred glass petals. She examined each one, looking for a hidden fisheye camera. After a few minutes she decided the fixture was clean, and jumped down.
The room had two mirrors. One over the desk, the second over the vanity. She started with the mirror over the desk, and she lifted it off the wall and placed it on the bed. There was a large water stain on the wallpaper, but no camera. She replaced it.
Next was the mirror over the vanity with a carved wood frame. When she tried to take it down, she encountered resistance. The mirror was stuck to the wall with adhesive, which was odd. Why hang the mirror over the desk, and attach the mirror over the vanity?