Mixed Blood Read Online Free Page B

lighting a cigarette, he struggled to get a tiny cell phone out of his jeans and thumbed a number. No signal. He’d have to wait to call that little bastard Rikki and lean on him some more.
    Barnard heard the ambulance siren in the distance. The paramedics were wasting their time. He could see the half-breed in the street was dead, too.

    Burn drove along High Level Road, his eyes drawn to his rearview mirror. The two dead men, wrapped in the garbage bags, were under a tarpaulin at the very rear of the Jeep. The short guy had been easy to wrap and carry down to the car, but the tall man had left Burn sweating with exertion. Then he’d had to fold him double to fit him into the Jeep. The last body he had carried down had been that of his sleeping son. Burn prayed that Matt slept on; he’d already seen too much that night.
    What Burn wanted to do was run again. Pack up and disappear like they had three months ago. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until Susan was stable.
    He turned into Sea Point Main Road, on his way to the freeway. Before he could change his route he found himself in a roadblock, orange cones narrowing the road to one lane, uniformed cops with flashlights flagging down vehicles. A roadblock to flush out the stolen cars, the unlicensed drivers, and the drunks.
    A car slowed behind him. There was no way he could reverse. He was trapped.
    There were two cars in front of him. The cops were talking to the drivers, shining flashlights into the car interiors. They had pulled one man aside and were checking inside his car and in the trunk.
    Burn started to sweat.
    At last a flashlight waved him forward. A black cop in uniform shone the light into his face as Burn eased the driver’s window down. “Good evening, sir. Please turn off the car.”
    “Good evening.” Burn killed the engine.
    The accent immediately attracted the cop’s attention. “Are you on holiday, sir?”
    “I’m out here visiting for a while.”
    The cop directed the light onto the backseat and saw Matt asleep in the car seat.
    “Your ID and license, please.”
    Burn handed them over. The cop checked his passport photograph against his face. As always at these moments over the last few months, Burn prayed that they would stand up to scrutiny. Then the cop checked his international driver’s license and handed both documents back to him.
    “Thank you, Mr. Hill.”
    He seemed ready to wave Burn on when a cell phone rang, from the very rear of the car. Shit, Burn thought, it must be in the short guy’s trousers. The cargo pants with the endless pockets. The cell phone ring was loud, strident, the opening bars of some hip-hop song. Incongruous in this Jeep.
    The cop heard it, looked at Burn, then started to walk toward the rear of the car, his flashlight held ahead of him.
    Burn waited.

C HAPTER 4

    It seemed as if the cell phone would never stop ringing. Then it did. Sudden, abrupt silence. Burn watched in his side mirror as the cop moved toward the back of the Jeep. Burn knew that if he was going to act, it would have to be now. The car in front of him was being waved away; the road was open. Either he was going to risk letting the cop find the bodies or he was going to take his chances and run. Floor the Jeep and get the hell out of there, hoping he had the jump on any pursuers.
    And then? Ditch the car. Get back to the house, get rid of anything incriminating, open the safe, and access the backup passports he kept in case of just this kind of emergency. He knew the drill. He and Susan had done it before. He had the documents. He had the cash.
    He watched the cop, who was about to shine his light into the rear of the Jeep. Burn found his hand moving toward the ignition key.
    It would have to be now.
    “Fuck you, you black bastard!” The voice was loud, angry, and drunk.
    Burn spun around in his seat. A big Mercedes, brand-new, was parked behind him. The driver, a beefy white man in his fifties, was out of the vehicle. He had just shoved