Thr3e Read Online Free Page B

“Isn’t there a way to track it?”
    “No. We can only track a call while it’s being made. What’s left of your cell is nothing more than a lump of plastic in an evidence bag anyway. If we’re lucky, we’ll have a shot next time.” He closed the file folder. “You do know there’ll be a next time, don’t you?”
    “Not necessarily.” Actually, the thought had plagued him, but he refused to give it any serious consideration. Freak occurrences like this happened to people now and then; he could accept that. But a deliberate, drawn-out plot against him was unfathomable.
    “There will be,” Milton said. “This guy went to great lengths to pull this trick. He’s after something, and we have to assume he didn’t get it. Unless this was random or some kind of hellacious mistake, he’ll try again.”
    “Maybe he mistook me for someone else.”
    “Not a chance. He’s too methodical. He staked you out, wired the car, knew your moves, and blew it with careful deliberation.”
    True enough. Slater knew more than even the police knew. “He scared me. Maybe that’s all he wanted.”
    “Maybe. I’m open to anything at this point.” Milton paused. “You’re sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me? We don’t have much on you. Never been married, no record, college grad, currently enrolled in seminary. Not the kind of person you’d expect to be involved in a crime of this nature.”
    Slater’s demand crossed his mind.
    “If I think of anything else, trust me, you’ll be the first to know,” Kevin said.
    “Then you’re free to go. I’ve put in an order to tap your phones as soon as we can clear the red tape—the boys should be out first thing tomorrow morning. I may also place a black and white outside your house in Signal Hill, but I doubt we’re dealing with anyone who would approach your house.”
    “Tap my phones?” They were going to dig, weren’t they? But what was he afraid of, as long as they didn’t start prying about his past?
    “With your permission, of course. You have any other cell phones?”
    “No.”
    “If this guy makes contact in any other way, I want to hear about it immediately, you understand?”
    “Of course.”
    “And pardon my insensitivity, but this isn’t just about you anymore.” His eyes twinkled. “We have reporters all over the place and they want an explanation. You might have some media attention. Don’t talk to them. Don’t even look at them. Stay focused, capice? ”
    “I’m the victim here, right? Why do I get the feeling I’m the one under investigation?”
    Milton placed both of his palms on the table. The air conditioning kicked in above them. “Because you are. We have a monster out there and that monster has chosen you. We need to know why. That means we need to know more about you. We have to establish motivation. That’s the way it works.”
    Kevin nodded. Actually, it made perfect sense.
    “You’re free to go.” The detective handed him a card. “Call me. Use the cell number on the back.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Don’t thank me yet. Do you always stare people down while you’re talking to them, or are you hiding something?”
    Kevin hesitated. “Has it ever occurred to you that you have a tendency to terrify your witnesses, Detective?”
    The man did one of his flash-blink routines—four this time. Paul Milton might have political aspirations, but unless the people decided to turn the country over to vampires, Kevin didn’t think the detective had a chance.
    Milton stood and walked out.

3
    Friday
Afternoon
    A FRIENDLY COP NAMED STEVE ushered Kevin out the back and took him to the Hertz rental-car agency. Twenty minutes later Kevin held the keys to a Ford Taurus, nearly identical to the Sable that was no more.
    “You’re sure you’re okay to drive?” Steve asked.
    “I can drive.”
    “Okay. I’ll follow you home.”
    “Thanks.”
    The home was an old two-story that Kevin had purchased five years earlier, when he was