Graveyard Plots Read Online Free
come out."
"That sounds okay."
"I guess that's it, then."
"Yes, that's it. But listen, Jim, I don't want to lose you, and neither does the National Office. Go easy Tuesday night."
"I plan on doing just that," Agenrood said. "Everything is going to turn out just fine."
"I hope so. Because if there's any trouble, I can't help you, Jim. As much as the National Office likes you, they won't go to bat for you if there's a foul-up."
"I'm aware of that."
"Good luck, then."
Agenrood smiled faintly. "And good hunting?"
"Yes," Len said. "And good hunting."
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A t twenty minutes past nine on Tuesday night, Cam left the Graceling Hotel and walked to the corner of Taylor and Eddy streets. There, he entered a gray stone building; over the building's entrance was a yellow-and-black sign that read: RIGHT-WAY RENT-A-CARâ$25 PER DAY, .50 PER MILE.
It was five minutes till ten when he emerged from an adjacent parking facility, driving a new, light brown, two-door hardtop. He had had no difficulties.
The luminescent dial of Cain's wristwatch read ten-forty when he parked the hardtop less than half a block beyond James Agenrood's red brick home on Devaney Way in Hillsborough. He eased his body down on the seat, remaining beneath the wheel; he adjusted the rearview mirror until he could see clearly Agenrood's garage, and the pale light that burned above its electronic door. He was not worried about being seen there, or of anything happening to him so near Agenrood's home; but he kept his right hand on the automatic in the pocket of his overcoat just the same.
Agenrood came out at eleven-thirteen; Cain saw his face clearly in the garage light. He was alone. He disappeared into the garage, and moments later the cream-colored Cadillac began to glide backward to the street. Headlights washed over the hardtop, but Cain was low enough on the seat so that he was sure Agenrood could not see him. The Cadillac swept past, and through the windshield now he watched it turn the corner at the first intersection and then vanish from sight.
Cain remained where he was for five minutes, timing it by his watch. Then he straightened on the seat, started the hardtop, and drove off in the direction Agenrood had taken.
Cain turned off Sharp Park Road, south onto the Coast Highway, at twenty minutes before twelve. He drove through Pacifica and Rockaway Beach; the Pacific Ocean lay smooth and hushed and cold on his right, like a great limitless pool of quicksilver in the shine from the three-quarter moon overhead.
He began to slow down when he saw the black-shadowed shape of the closed Standard station ahead of him. He came parallel to it and then made a left-hand turn across the highway and swung up onto the square of asphalt in front of the station. The cream-colored Cadillac sat dark and silent by the forward pumps. Cain touched the headlight switch, shutting the beams off; immediately, he flicked them back on again. He drove across to the opposite side of the asphalt square, waited there to allow a large truck to pass, and then swung out onto the Coast Highway again, resuming a southerly direction.
He looked up into his rearview mirror and saw Agenrood come out of the Standard station and fall in behind him.
Inside the cream-colored Cadillac, one of the two men hunched down on the floor of the back seatâPordenzaâsaid, "Where do you think he's heading?"
James Agenrood's hands were slick on the steering wheel. "I don't know," he answered.
"Well, I hope he gets there damned quick," Pordenza said. "I've got a charley horse in my leg."
"Just stay out of sight."
"Don't worry, Mr. Agenrood."
"We know what we're doing," Reilly put in quietly.
Agenrood watched the crimson lights two hundred yards ahead of him. A fine sheen of perspiration beaded his wide forehead. They continued for another mile, and then the left directional signal on the hardtop winked on; the car began to reduce its speed.
Agenrood said, "He's going to
"That sounds okay."
"I guess that's it, then."
"Yes, that's it. But listen, Jim, I don't want to lose you, and neither does the National Office. Go easy Tuesday night."
"I plan on doing just that," Agenrood said. "Everything is going to turn out just fine."
"I hope so. Because if there's any trouble, I can't help you, Jim. As much as the National Office likes you, they won't go to bat for you if there's a foul-up."
"I'm aware of that."
"Good luck, then."
Agenrood smiled faintly. "And good hunting?"
"Yes," Len said. "And good hunting."
Â
A t twenty minutes past nine on Tuesday night, Cam left the Graceling Hotel and walked to the corner of Taylor and Eddy streets. There, he entered a gray stone building; over the building's entrance was a yellow-and-black sign that read: RIGHT-WAY RENT-A-CARâ$25 PER DAY, .50 PER MILE.
It was five minutes till ten when he emerged from an adjacent parking facility, driving a new, light brown, two-door hardtop. He had had no difficulties.
The luminescent dial of Cain's wristwatch read ten-forty when he parked the hardtop less than half a block beyond James Agenrood's red brick home on Devaney Way in Hillsborough. He eased his body down on the seat, remaining beneath the wheel; he adjusted the rearview mirror until he could see clearly Agenrood's garage, and the pale light that burned above its electronic door. He was not worried about being seen there, or of anything happening to him so near Agenrood's home; but he kept his right hand on the automatic in the pocket of his overcoat just the same.
Agenrood came out at eleven-thirteen; Cain saw his face clearly in the garage light. He was alone. He disappeared into the garage, and moments later the cream-colored Cadillac began to glide backward to the street. Headlights washed over the hardtop, but Cain was low enough on the seat so that he was sure Agenrood could not see him. The Cadillac swept past, and through the windshield now he watched it turn the corner at the first intersection and then vanish from sight.
Cain remained where he was for five minutes, timing it by his watch. Then he straightened on the seat, started the hardtop, and drove off in the direction Agenrood had taken.
Cain turned off Sharp Park Road, south onto the Coast Highway, at twenty minutes before twelve. He drove through Pacifica and Rockaway Beach; the Pacific Ocean lay smooth and hushed and cold on his right, like a great limitless pool of quicksilver in the shine from the three-quarter moon overhead.
He began to slow down when he saw the black-shadowed shape of the closed Standard station ahead of him. He came parallel to it and then made a left-hand turn across the highway and swung up onto the square of asphalt in front of the station. The cream-colored Cadillac sat dark and silent by the forward pumps. Cain touched the headlight switch, shutting the beams off; immediately, he flicked them back on again. He drove across to the opposite side of the asphalt square, waited there to allow a large truck to pass, and then swung out onto the Coast Highway again, resuming a southerly direction.
He looked up into his rearview mirror and saw Agenrood come out of the Standard station and fall in behind him.
Inside the cream-colored Cadillac, one of the two men hunched down on the floor of the back seatâPordenzaâsaid, "Where do you think he's heading?"
James Agenrood's hands were slick on the steering wheel. "I don't know," he answered.
"Well, I hope he gets there damned quick," Pordenza said. "I've got a charley horse in my leg."
"Just stay out of sight."
"Don't worry, Mr. Agenrood."
"We know what we're doing," Reilly put in quietly.
Agenrood watched the crimson lights two hundred yards ahead of him. A fine sheen of perspiration beaded his wide forehead. They continued for another mile, and then the left directional signal on the hardtop winked on; the car began to reduce its speed.
Agenrood said, "He's going to
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