Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“Want a bite?”

“I’d rather eat mouse droppings. Actually, that’s probably what’s in there. Lots of protein in poop.”

“What do we do when he comes out?”

“Tail him.”

“He might spot us.”

“He might. But we have to risk it. He’s the only viable lead we have right now.”

“Are we making a huge mistake by not calling in Littlefield and the FBI?”

Sean rubbed the kinks out of his neck, slapped himself a few times in the face to come fully awake, and then leaned back against the seat. “Half of me says we’re idiots for not doing exactly that.”

“And the other half?”

“I haven’t figured the other half out yet.”

“Here he comes.”

They both slid down in their seats as Jenkins’s garage door rolled up and his car backed out. He passed by them and headed out of the neighborhood.

“Hey, you have your pick gun?” Sean asked.

“I have a pocket, so I have my pick gun.”

“Hit the house, see what you can find. I’ll tail Jenkins and then we’ll hook back up.”

“Okay, but how do I get back?”

“Call a cab.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“And don’t get caught. Breaking and entering is very bad. It’s a felony, in fact.”

Michelle climbed out of the Land Cruiser and watched for a moment as Sean sped off in pursuit of the other vehicle. She looked both ways and was pleased that the morning was gloomy and ill lit, with even tendrils of fog drifting through the trees that were spaced in between the houses. She walked up to the front stoop of Jenkins’s house and knocked, just in case anyone was watching her.

She gazed through one of the side windows next to the door and saw the alarm pad on an interior wall. It was blinking red, which meant it was engaged.

It can never be easy, can it?

She slipped around the back, keeping to the shadows thrown by the house.

Because of the alarm system the front and rear doors were out. Her pick gun was useless.

That left one alternative.

She eyed a small window that was reachable by the rear deck.

Bathroom, she deduced.

She looked behind her. No homes here. There were just stands of trees dense enough to provide good cover.

Her knife made short work of the window lock. She slid it open, praying that the windows weren’t wired to the alarm system, and clambered inside, dropping quietly to the floor next to the toilet. She closed the window behind her and went to the doorway, peering out. She eyed the ceiling and the corners of the hallway, looking for motion detectors.

Seeing none, she moved carefully out into the hall. She froze when she heard scurrying feet.

The little dog scooted around the corner and came to a stop in front of her, yapping. Then it rolled over onto its belly and she knelt down to scratch its stomach.

“Okay, little guy, want to tell me where all the deep, dark secrets are hidden?”

She quickly searched the rooms on the main level and found nothing.

It was on her search of the top floor that she found Jenkins’s home office.

It was small, with a desk and chair and a shelf filled with books, mostly on planes and FAA requirements.

An Apple computer sat on the desk. She sat and hit some keys but a password was required and she didn’t have one. She tried half a dozen based on Jenkins’s birth date and other personal data, which she had gotten from the DMV records. None of them worked, which didn’t surprise her.

She tapped her fingers on the desktop. If she had her truck she could just sneak the whole computer out and let Edgar break into it. But she couldn’t walk down the street with a twenty-four-inch Apple computer under her arm and hail a cab.

Edgar!

She called him.

She said, “I have a little problem. I’m house-sitting for a friend of mine and he said I could use his computer, but he forgot to give me the password. And he’s not answering phone or email. Anyway, can you help me out?”

“What brand of computer is it?”

“An Apple.”

“It’ll take some time.”

“Great,” she said despairingly. “How much time?”

“At least a minute.”

Michelle smiled. “I love you, Edgar.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I’m actually seeing someone, Ms. Maxwell.”

“Uh… good for you, Edgar. My loss.”

He took her through a series of assaults on the computer. In less than a minute the hard drive came to life.

“I’m in. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And Ms. Maxwell?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not really house-sitting, are you?”

“Um…”

“I didn’t think so. I just helped you break into someone’s computer, didn’t I?”

“It’s all for a good cause, Edgar.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Goodbye, Edgar.”

“Goodbye. And I’ll let you know if things don’t work out with the person I’m currently seeing.”

“Uh, okay, thanks.”

Michelle clicked keys and accessed as many files as she could. She also found a flash drive in the desk and downloaded to it as many files as she could find that seemed pertinent.

She jerked around when she heard a siren in the distance. She ejected the flash drive, used her jacket to wipe her prints off the keyboard, rose, and ran back out of the room. She hurtled down the stairs even as the siren grew closer.

Did I trip some silent alarm?

The little dog yapped at her heels as she raced to the bathroom, opened the window, and cantilevered over the sill, landing on her feet. She jumped off the deck and ran not toward the street, but into the woods behind the house. She came out on the other side and fast-walked to the same major intersection from last night.

She didn’t see a cab but she did board a bus that carried her to the Metro. From there she grabbed a cab and rode that back to their office. Along the way she called Sean.

“Where are you?” she asked him.

“Just pulling into Heron Air Service at Dulles. Traffic sucked even heading out of town. What about you?”

She quickly explained to him what she had done and where she was. She fingered the flash drive.

“I’m going to take the rental car we left here and see Edgar. Maybe he can find some stuff on the flash that will make sense.”

“Good idea. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Michelle clicked off.

Sean put his phone down just about the time the gun was placed against his head.

PERIPHERAL VISION. IT WAS A necessity for many jobs.

NFL [44] NFL – The National Football League: a professional American football league. quarterbacks had to have it so they wouldn’t be crushed by charging defenders.

Basketball referees needed it to cover all the goings-on around the court.

And Secret Service agents needed it to prevent harm from coming to their protectees and themselves.

Sean saw the gun and eyed the person holding it all without moving his head.

His elbow hit the horn, and the sound shattered the relative morning quiet around the airport. At the noise the gunman’s hand flinched just a bit, but it was enough to give Sean the space he needed to do what he did next.

He grabbed the man’s shirt and jerked him forward.

His head collided with the hard metal of the Land Cruiser’s door frame. Blood spattered on Sean along with bits of a tooth from the man’s mouth; then the gunman slumped down to the asphalt.

Sean already had the vehicle in gear and the wheels spinning. He punched the gas to the floor, and the truck shot out of the parking lot. He looked in the side mirror and saw the man slowly get to his feet and stagger sideways before falling down again.

It wasn’t Jenkins. It was someone else.