Blood and Bone Read Online Free

say, a missing person’s case,” he said, lighting his cigar, “but if I understand your business correctly, this is indeed your type of thing.”
    Hannibal turned to Lippincott who was clinking a spoon around in his cup. “How much time does the boy have?”
    â€œWe’re clutching at straws here.”
    â€œOkay, I get it,” Hannibal said, easing his glasses off. “Last chances are by definition what we try when all else has failed and time is running out. That’s okay. Desperation is my business. How much time?”
    â€œTwo, maybe three weeks if his progress doesn’t change.”
    Hannibal sat back in his chair. Lilacs and forsythia growing beneath the deck seemed inappropriately sweet. “Gone eighteen years. Three weeks to find him and bring him back.”
    â€œMoney is no barrier,” Nieswand said. “You can drop any other jobs you’re working on and give this your complete attention.”
    The low clouds were breaking up, but instead of true sunshine, the sky cast a ghostly glow around objects. Hannibal slid his Oakleys back into place. “I don’t drop prior cases. They are commitments just as this would be. And my fees don’t change. I get five hundred dollars a day plus expenses, and my expenses are never questioned. Anybody I subcontract gets another two-fifty a day.”
    â€œThis means you’ll take the case?” Nieswand asked.
    â€œMaybe. But I won’t take a penny until I know there’s some chance of success. I’ll have to see what kind of leads the family can give me, then we’ll see.”
    Cindy squeezed his hand, implying she knew his answer before he did.

-4-
    Hannibal wished he could travel by helicopter. Great Falls, Virginia, where Harlan Mortimer lived, was about ten miles due north of Nieswand’s home. But roads never travel due anything, so he followed Nieswand’s Saab on a zigzag path for forty-five minutes, up Hunter Mill Road to Springvale Road then across the Georgetown Pike. The clouds blew back in during the drive, and an occasional drop dotted Hannibal’s windshield.
    Finally they turned into a subdivision aptly named Riverscape. The grade was not steep on Mortimer’s cul-de-sac, but as they pulled into the driveway in front of his three-car garage, they could see the Potomac through the woods behind the house. Hannibal let Nieswand and Lippincott climb out of the doctor’s Saab before he unhooked his own shoulder harness. He wanted to see who paid deference to whom. Nieswand waved to Hannibal and Cindy to follow him to the house, but he invited Lippincott to lead the way.
    He expected to be greeted by a servant at the top of the brick stoop, but the woman who opened the door was too well dressed. A natural color mohair sweater suit showed off her well maintained shape, but straightened black hair and overly correct posturedated her. Her dark eyes roamed the four faces as if trying to make connections between them.
    â€œWe need to see Harlan, Camille,” Lippincott said. “It’s about helping Kyle.” The woman backed away and the group entered. Lippincott and Nieswand obviously knew where they were going but Hannibal stopped to extend a gloved hand.
    â€œHannibal Jones. One nameless person per day is my limit.”
    â€œCamille,” she answered, gently shaking Hannibal’s fingertips. “Camille Mortimer. I’m…”
    â€œShe’s Mister Mortimer’s daughter-in-law.” The new voice came from the direction the other men were heading, but it was neither of them. Hannibal turned to see a short, clean cut, Ivy League looking black man striding toward him. The navy blazer and rep tie said Harvard, the next generation. His hair was short, but already receding on a scalp that probably had not seen forty years yet.
    â€œMalcolm Lippincott,” the newcomer said, pumping Hannibal’s hand. “Are you with Nieswand and