Baton Rouge Bingo by Herren Greg

Author:Herren, Greg [Herren, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781602829961
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2013-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The Hermit

The courage to do what is necessary and right

After another half hour or so of thorough scanning, that was the only bug we found in the entire apartment.

“What are we going to do with it?” Taylor asked. His eyes were glittering with excitement. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, like a ball of nervous energy. With a grim look on his face, Frank dropped the bug down the garbage disposal, turned on the faucet, and flipped the switch. The grinding sound was loud, and after about twenty seconds, Frank flipped it off. “I hope,” Frank said angrily, “someone was listening to that. And it burst their fucking eardrum.” The muscle in his jaw was twitching the way it always did when he was angry.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I said as thunder shook the building again. “Why bug us? And why kidnap Dad in the first place? I just can’t figure this out.”

“We don’t have much to go on,” Frank replied, his voice tense and even. He leaned back against the counter. “All we know for sure is whoever took Dad for some reason thinks we either know where this deduct box thing is or can figure it out. Which means they’ve probably been looking for it without any luck.”

I nodded. “Somehow Veronica Porterie must be connected to it.”

Frank made a strange face. “How do you figure?”

“It’s simple.” Taylor interrupted me before I could say anything. “Unless you believe in coincidences, there has to be some connection. Ms. Porterie was an old friend of Scotty’s mom, right? Didn’t you say she came by your mom’s this weekend? Maybe she was being followed, so whoever the bad guys are, they think maybe she told your mom something. And then she was murdered—the Porterie lady, I mean—and someone kidnapped Scotty’s dad, probably around the same time she was murdered, right? It’s not much of a stretch.” We both stared at him. He turned red and shrugged. “I watch Law and Order and I love to read mysteries.”

“Real life isn’t like a TV show, Taylor,” Frank replied. He exhaled. “Okay, say you’re right. Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to bug Mom’s apartment rather than ours?”

“Well, whoever it is, they’ve done their homework,” I said grimly, giving Taylor an approving look. “And how did whoever it was get in to plant the damned thing?” One of the great things about our apartment was no one could get in without a key or being buzzed through the door downstairs. Millie and Velma were extremely security conscious—one of the benefits of having an older lesbian couple as landladies—and their rules were very strict about who was allowed in.

“You know damned well anyone who wants to break in here can get in if they want to.” Frank scowled. “They just have to come in over the roofs and drop down to the balcony. We never lock the French doors.”

“That doesn’t explain why, though,” I replied, conceding the point. I mean, it was true, but it was also highly unlikely.

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