Blatant Lies by Paul Knox

Author:Paul Knox [Knox, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781658683524
Publisher: Fate Knox Publishing
Published: 2020-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

Eight

Reece had answered Jessie’s call immediately. News from Shanahan would’ve been good, but finding the phone was even better. It invigorated the rookie. Reece had imagined living for these moments—but she needed Jessie to be living, too.

After hanging up with Jessie, Reece dialed Shanahan. “Jessie has the phone. I’m on my way to pick her up right now.”

“What? Okay. Wow. I’m still waiting on her dad to call me back, but this is getting seriouser and seriouser.”

“Curiouser and curiouser?” Reece felt a little like Alice.

“I’ll leave that up to the CIA. I’m calling them directly. We need to get this in the right hands.”

“Do it.” Reece hung up and drove as fast as she could, berries and cherries flashing for all the world to see. A block from Jessie’s house, she shut them off.

Reece wasn’t qualified for this and she knew it. It still felt great, though. She’d do what she could.

* * *

Lieutenant Tommy Shanahan hung up with Reece and twisted the cap back on the bottle, wishing he hadn’t just taken that last shot o’ whiskey.

The corned beef leftovers currently reheating in the microwave would have to wait.

Once again, he dialed the CIA.

After being routed up the chain of command, he spoke with a cautious-sounding director who promised him a callback ASAP.

Waiting for what felt like the hundredth callback, Shanahan eyed his bottle.

Actually, he silently rationalized, he’d barely even begun drinking for the night. He didn’t even feel it.

* * *

Reece had pulled her sheriff’s SUV into a gas station parking lot around the corner from Jessie’s neighborhood, staring at the odd iPhone lookalike while Jessie sat passenger. It was password protected.

“Do you think we should try to unlock it?” Jessie asked.

“Probably not,” Reece muttered, while thinking of something very peculiar.

Shanahan had said they needed evidence for an arrest. Maybe the phone could be good enough.

Maybe all of this’ll end up in the CIA’s hands, but…

If she knew the phone’s number, Shanahan could call, speak Farsi to Jack, pretend to be an Iranian operative and ask questions about the whereabouts of Dean or his body. Whether they found a body or not, they could record the confession and have all the evidence they needed for a good ol’ fashioned sheriff’s deputy arrest.

Quite possibly irresponsible, maybe futile, but perhaps brilliant?

Only a rookie would try it.

But the password. And would Shanahan agree to it?

“Do you know any of Jack’s passwords?”

“I know one he uses for little stuff.” Jessie recited the password and Reece punched it in.

The screen shook. Words appeared: Two attempts remaining.

“I need to get this right or we get locked out—or worse,” Reece said. “I know someone to call.”

Once again Reece called Shanahan, telling him the outlandish, makeshift plan she’d concocted and the password dilemma.

“That sounds absolutely ludicrous, Reece.”

“Does anyone even care yet? Or is everyone busy eating dinner still?”

“I’m not getting anywhere with the CIA. Still waiting for a callback. And Jessie’s dad isn’t calling back either.”

“There’s a foreign spy, possibly a killer, who we potentially need off the streets right now.

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