Highway Robbery Read Online Free

mean?"
    "It's habit," Frank went on. "It keeps our cases more contained. Less chance for leaks."
    "Well, all right, if you say so," Tony agreed.
    Frank and Joe dropped Tony off at his house. Before driving away, they arranged to pick him up the next morning so he could introduce them to his uncle Matt.
    Back at their house Frank and Joe found their father in his office, and they started to fill him in on their day. When they mentioned Chief Deputy MacReedy, Fenton narrowed his eyes.
    "MacReedy?" he asked. "Kind of a rangy fellow with a bad temper?"
    "That sounds like him," said Joe. "You two ever have a run-in of any kind?"
    Fenton nodded. "When I first started in business here, I was hired to work on a fraud case. MacReedy was investigating it for the sheriff's office. He seemed like a good man, but a little too - in those days we called him too gung-ho. You felt he might get carried away in a situation, forget about procedure, cut a corner - that kind of thing.
    "Well, he made an arrest," Fenton went on, "but he tampered with some evidence in order to nail it down tight, so he lost the perpetrator and went up on charges. Somehow he got it into his head that I was responsible, and ever since he's held it against me."
    "That's a long time to hold a grudge," Frank commented.
    Fenton leaned forward. "You don't want to get on his bad side. But since he knows you're my sons, you're already there. Steer clear of him as much as possible, boys."
    "We'll try," Joe told their father. "But it looks like what he's working on connects with our investigation."
    "Are you sure?" asked Fenton.
    Frank nodded. "First, the dead man once worked for Lombard Hauling. Second, the hot goods that were being sold at that warehouse were made by Ultratech, and that's what has been hijacked." As he spoke he counted off the points on his fingers.
    "By the way, Dad, could you look into a couple of things for us?" Joe asked.
    "If I can. What do you need?"
    "We need to know the record of this Mickey Vane - he's the one who got killed today."
    "It'd be good to find out who owns the warehouse where they were selling the stolen electronics, too," said Frank. "And who was renting it and for how long."
    They gave Fenton the address. As they were about to leave his office, he called out, "Frank? Joe? I know that you know how to watch out for yourselves, but you should really stay away from Lamar MacReedy." Fenton sounded casual, but Frank and Joe knew that he was concerned. "He'd be happy to have any excuse to get at you, if only to get back at me."
    "We'll keep our heads down, Dad," replied Joe.
    ***
    The next morning Frank, Joe, and Tony drove over to Lombard Hauling. Joe pulled the van in through the open gate and parked next to a medium-size garage with a loading dock on one side. A few small buildings were attached to the rear of the garage. Probably offices, Joe decided. Near the loading dock he saw a couple of mechanics working on tall, boxy truck cabs. A few trailers with Lombard painted on the sides in red stood empty, ready to receive the next loads. The place smelled familiar to Joe - gasoline, oil, and grease - all blended.
    Tony led them past the garage to an outdoor entrance to the first building. Just as he raised his hand to knock, an angry voice pierced through the closed door and stopped him.
    "You'll be hearing from us again, and you won't like it!" The door swung open and a middle-aged man in a lime green sports jacket and open-necked shirt stalked out. He was balding and stocky, with a pug nose and an angry flush on his face. He shoved between Frank and Joe and marched off.
    "Uncle Matt?" called Tony.
    "Come on in." Frank and Joe followed Tony inside to an office, where a tall, powerful-looking man was standing behind a desk. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, showing muscular arms. He looked like an older version of Mike, with close-trimmed frizzy white hair.
    Frank checked out the office curiously. It wasn't exactly a plush office.