Eden's Gate Read Online Free Page A

apart bit by bit, verstehen ?” Lane said. He handed Baumann back his gun. “Are you going to help me?” he asked Speyer.
    â€œAre you wanted by the police?”
    Lane hesitated. “Not in the United States.”

    A siren sounded outside. This time it was continuous and headed their way, not a test blast for the parade like earlier.
    â€œThe old man came in with a gun, and this gentleman shot him in self-defense. Have you got that, Willy?”
    â€œYes, sir,” the bartender stammered.
    â€œWe were never here.”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œThere’ll be a coroner’s hearing. When you’re released, come look me up and we’ll talk,” Speyer told Lane.
    He turned, stepped over the old man’s body, and headed to the back door. Baumann followed him, and at the end of the bar he turned and gave Lane a look that was anything but friendly.
    Â 
    â€œDon’t try to follow me, or I’ll kill you,” Lane told the bartender when Speyer and Baumann were gone. “I’m not going to be arrested here.”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    Lane safetied his gun, stuffed it back in his waistband, and walked out into the lobby. The clerk was gone, and Frannie was crouched down in front of the front desk. She blew him a kiss. Lane reached the front door, but the cop car was stuck in the crowd a half block up Main Street. No one outside had heard the gunshots, which meant that the call to the police had probably come from the desk clerk. And there had already been so many sirens this morning that this one was being mostly ignored. It was better this way, he thought. Less chance of an innocent bystander getting in the middle of things, something they had worried about. Or some trigger-happy cowboy jumping up and taking potshots. That would have been great.
    He worked his way through the crowd in the opposite direction from the cop car and turned right on First Street. The primary scenario was for him to show up at Speyer’s ranch outside of Crazy Horse on the Flathead River northeast of town sometime tonight. The local police would have issued an all-points bulletin for his arrest by then; armed and dangerous. And they would have called the state police for help. The manhunt would hit all the radio stations and television feeds, and it would be on all the police frequencies, something they were pretty sure Speyer’s people regularly monitored. John Clark would be legitimized.
    When he reached the dark blue Range Rover that had been left
for him this morning three blocks from the hotel, there were more sirens behind him converging on the murder scene. A big Lincoln Navigator SUV with dark tinted windows came around the corner. Lane unlocked his car and opened the door as the Lincoln pulled up. The back door opened and Speyer beckoned to him. “Come with us.”
    Gloria was in the backseat with him. Baumann was driving. “I’m not going to leave my stuff behind,” Lane said.
    â€œDon’t be a fool,” Speyer said. “The police know your name, and they’ll be looking for this car.”
    â€œIt can’t be connected to me.”
    â€œWhere the hell do you think you’re going?”
    â€œI was going to find out where you live and come out to see you tonight.”
    â€œYou’d be dead before you got within a mile of me,” Speyer said with mounting frustration. He said something to Baumann who was watching the rearview mirror. His bodyguard nodded. “I’m sending Ernst with you.”
    â€œWhatever you say.” Lane got behind the wheel and closed the door. He took out his phone and, keeping it below the level of the windows, hit the speed dial button. Baumann and Speyer got out of the Lincoln and said something else to each other.
    â€œYes?” Frannie asked, breathless. She wasn’t expecting his call so soon.
    â€œChange of plans. Baumann is coming with me.”
    Speyer climbed into the