Deep Red Cover by Joel W. Barrows

Author:Joel W. Barrows
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

CHAPTER 45

6:08 p.m., Thursday, March 5, Weaver Realty, Poplar Bluff, Missouri

They had been there well over two hours, thinking Weaver might leave early. After all, he was the boss. But it turned out that he still put in the time. Garrett checked his watch, then stifled a yawn. Sitting surveillance was not his favorite, but it was part of the deal. And given what Ward had told them the night before about Weaver and his secret arsenal, it was definitely worth the effort. They planned to sit on him a few nights, see if he made a trip out. The trick would be following him to a remote location without being made. Potter had described the place as secluded, with a high-end security system. The last thing they needed was to raise the suspicion index of a guy already prone to conspiracy theories and the sighting of black choppers.

“When the fuck is this guy gonna leave?” Garret asked. He stretched, trying to get some blood flowing. Weaver’s vehicle was the only one left in the parking lot.

“No shit,” Batson muttered.

Garrett watched the sun disappear below the horizon. “This was gonna be hard enough in daylight.”

“He’ll probably just go home,” Batson said. “I can’t imagine he’d go out there this late on a Thursday night.”

Garrett shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Yeah,” Batson replied. “I guess.”

It was then that the lights started to go out. Garrett sat up. “Looks like it’s go time,” he said.

Weaver soon emerged from the agency. He stopped and looked around, then headed toward his vehicle, a black Chevy Tahoe. Seconds later, the SUV sprang to life and accelerated out of the lot.

“What the fuck?” Garrett asked, putting the Explorer in gear. He pulled out but left the lights off, determined to wait until they were momentarily out of Weaver’s line of sight before turning them on. That happened when the Tahoe turned left at the nearest intersection.

Garrett did a California roll through the stop sign, then stepped on the gas. Weaver already had a hundred-yard lead on them and was moving in and out of traffic.

“He’s in quite a hurry if he’s just going home for the night,” Barrett said.

Garrett moved back and forth, passing cars on South Westwood Boulevard, hoping that he didn’t encounter a patrol unit. He checked the speedometer. They were a good fifteen miles per hour over the limit. What was Weaver up to? A lot of people had a lead foot, but why would he be driving like this if he were just headed home? The driving seemed more evasive, as if he suspected a tail. The talk of illegal weapons trafficking likely had him spooked. Kern’s interviews had put Weaver on edge and made their job a helluva lot more difficult.

“This is that Kern’s fault,” Garrett said. “He made the guy paranoid.”

“Kern didn’t help,” Batson said, “but I think Weaver’s paranoia train had already left the station.”

Garret snorted. “I suppose,” he said. “Some of these militia types probably use evasive maneuvers when they’re going to the fucking grocery store.

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