The Summer House
- Автор: Паттерсон Джеймс, Дюбуа Брендан
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: Little, Brown and Company
- ISBN: 978-0-316-53955-5
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «The Summer House». Краткое содержание книги:
To ensure that justice is done, the Army sends Major Jeremiah Cook, a veteran and former NYPD cop, to investigate. But the major and his elite team arrive in sweltering Georgia with no idea their grim jobs will be made exponentially more challenging by local law enforcement, who resists the Army’s intrusion and stonewall them at every turn.
As Cook and his squad struggle to uncover the truth behind the condemning evidence, the pieces just won’t fit — and forces are rallying to make certain damning secrets die alongside the victims in the murder house. With his own people in the cross-hairs, Cook takes a desperate gamble to find answers — even if it means returning to a hell of his own worst nightmares...
His companion, Captain Allen Pierce, whistles and says, “John, I don’t see an empty space here. Damn it.”
“Then park illegally,” Huang replies, “over there by those picnic tables. If we’re fortunate, the cops here will be too busy to ticket us.”
Pierce smiles, but Huang is not in a joking mood. The lot is filled with cars, news vans, and satellite trucks, all waiting for word from within the jail, where the three surviving Ranger prisoners are being held.
They both get out of the car, and Pierce says, “John, just to give you a heads-up, I intend to sling a lot of legal bullshit in there.”
“What kind?” Huang asks.
“The kind I’m currently making up,” Pierce says. “All I ask is that you roll with me, give me backup.”
Huang wants to argue the point but lets it go. Why get the Army lawyer all spun up now? When this investigation is finished, poor Pierce will probably get disbarred anyway.
“Sure, Allen,” he says. “I’ll do that.”
A few minutes later, they are in the same reception area as before, with an angry Chief Richard Kane staring at them both.
“What?” he says. “You say you’re going to do what?”
Huang is impressed at how calm and professional Pierce is, facing down the police chief with nothing to back him up but his lawyer’s tongue.
“Like I said, Chief,” Pierce says, standing straight and firm, “I intend to spend the night here with Dr. Huang to ensure nothing happens to the three Army personnel before tomorrow’s court hearing. We don’t have to be in their cells or near their cells, but we will remain here, keeping track of jail staff and any visitors they may receive.”
The chief explodes with a series of obscenities and finally says, “What the hell gives you the right? You think I’m running a goddamn Motel 6 here or something? Why should I allow you two to stay here without a warrant?”
Huang admires Pierce for not giving an inch. “At this moment, Chief, a team from the FBI’s Civil Rights Unit is en route to investigate you, this facility, and your personnel.”
“Civil rights? What the hell are you talking about?”
Pierce gives the angry chief a tight smile. “Specialist Vinnie Tyler. The Ranger who allegedly killed himself in his cell? Have you forgotten him? We certainly haven’t. And neither has the Army. Among any other crimes you and your department may have committed, you most definitely violated the specialist’s civil rights.”
Huang sees exhaustion, anger, and confusion in the chief’s eyes.
It’s his turn.
Huang says, “In my professional opinion, Chief Kane, you and your personnel offered a hostile environment that adversely affected Specialist Tyler’s health. That means you and everyone else here is criminally liable.”
“You—”
Pierce jumps right back in. “But with us staying here, keeping watch and recording everyone coming in and out, ensuring nothing untoward happens to the three surviving Rangers, that may help mitigate the situation once the FBI arrives. It will put them in a... better frame of mind.”
Huang sees the chief’s head moving, looking at the JAG lawyer and then at him. Huang imagines what the chief is thinking. An arrest made in a major crime case involving multiple homicides should have been a wonderful publicity coup for a small town like this. Increased media attention, Well dones from his fellow cops, even the local mayor and council in a mood to increase the department’s budget next year.
Huang knows what the quick glance means from the chief.
He’s looking for a way out.
Huang says, “Chief, I know this is an intrusion. And you’ve got a lot going on with all that news media out there, and with the FBI arriving—”
“Tomorrow,” Pierce says. “The FBI will be here tomorrow.”
“But we won’t disturb you or your staff,” Huang goes on. “We’ll stay here in the reception area. We won’t bother or interact with anyone. We’ll just sit in place.”
The chief’s eyes are still glaring at them with anger, but Huang senses the man is giving up.
“All right,” he says, stepping back. “You two... you sit out here. You don’t move, ’cept if you’ve gotta take a piss. And you’re on your own. Don’t expect food, water, or a blanket. Got it?”
Pierce moves to a nearby orange plastic chair. “Got it, Chief.”
The chief opens the door leading to the department’s offices, making sure to slam it good and hard.
Huang sits down next to Pierce. “Good job,” he says to Pierce.
Pierce just nods, then points to a sign over the doorway leading into the jail.
ALL CONVERSATIONS SUBJECT TO AUDIO AND VIDEO RECORDING.
Huang nods in return, getting the message.
Then Pierce shifts in his chair, pulls out his 9mm SIG Sauer pistol, and slides it between his right leg and the chair.
Huang gets that message as well.
Chapter 79
Special Agent Manuel Sanchez is walking to the nurses’ station at the entrance to the Trauma ICU when he stops and quickly looks back.
The security guard who chased him out of York’s room is still in there.
Why?
Bo Leighton spent a summer years back working as a volunteer EMT-firefighter for Sullivan County ’fore he was let go on suspicion of lifting some painkillers — which was true, though nobody could prove it — so he knows to disconnect the bitch’s breathing tube before putting the pillow over her to smother out her life.
There.
Pillow down.
The body is so banged up and hooked up it doesn’t even move as its airway is cut off.
There’s beeping, booping, and bleeping from various instruments, and then the door slides open with a hard slam!
He looks up in surprise, seeing that Army agent standing right in the doorway.
One hand still on the pillow, he goes for the borrowed utility belt...
Sanchez steps in and sees the security guard smothering York with a room pillow.
He snaps up his SIG Sauer as the guy reaches for his utility belt and—
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The man falls away and crumples to the floor.
Shouts and yells come from outside.
He steps over to Connie, sees the fake security guard splayed out on the ground like a clumsy starfish, the pillow torn up, and blood starting to pool on the tile. The guard’s skin is rapidly graying out.
Sanchez turns as a frightened-looking woman nurse peers in, her face pale in shock.
He holds up his pistol in his right hand, his badge and identification in the other.
“I’m a federal agent!” he calls out. “Special Agent Sanchez, United States Army. This man was trying to murder your patient! Please! I need help in here!”
The nurse ducks back. More yells, shouts out there. He can just imagine the chaos he’s caused with the shooting.
Sanchez yells, “Your patient is dying! The man here tried to smother her! Please... somebody come in and look at her! Again, I’m a federal agent!”
A strong woman’s voice says, “Put your pistol on the floor, then I’ll come in.”
Sanchez doesn’t want to disarm himself but decides there’s no other option. He steps forward, puts his SIG Sauer on the tile. “My weapon’s on the floor, so you can come in and fix things. Okay?”
A female nurse in light-green scrubs and white sneakers comes in, looks down at the pistol, and then goes right over to York’s bed and, in a series of quick, fluid movements, seems to get everything put back in place.