Doomed Legacy by Matt Coyle

Author:Matt Coyle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Published: 2022-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I PULLED UP First Allied Plaza on Google Maps on my phone as I followed the man in the shorts and Padres hat, thirty feet behind him. First Allied was a straight shot about a mile down Broadway. The man’s pace was leisurely. He stopped at crosswalks and waited for the red Do Not Cross lights to turn into white walking stickmen. He wasn’t in a hurry. At one point, the man pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and appeared to be talking on it. After about a minute, he put the phone back in his pocket and continued his stroll.

I gave him plenty of space and he never looked over his shoulder like he was worried about being followed. No panoramic look when he stopped at crosswalks. I didn’t think he made me. But if he wasn’t the man in the photo Moira sent me, he’d never even consider that he was being followed.

We passed the Hall of Justice across the street on the right, which held the County Courthouse. First Allied Plaza loomed off to the left after fifteen or twenty minutes of following Padre Cap. A twenty-three-story wedge of a building, First Allied Plaza was a mishmash of materials, angles, and designs. Its structure was mostly made of steel and glass, but its first few floors were stone and cement and it had a sixteen-floor pale cement inset, plus a sloping roof, part of which was open scaffolding. The juxtapositions all seemed to work in a postmodern way.

I decided I was going to follow Padres Cap inside the building to be certain he went up to the floor that housed Leveraged Investigations. Except he went right on walking and passed First Allied. He crossed West Broadway going north on Kettner Boulevard. Three blocks later he turned left on Ash Street and walked a couple blocks until he arrived at the Waterfront Park Playground.

The playground had some jungle gyms for kids and a wide strip of lawn next to wading pools fueled by spraying water spouts near the cement walkway. The San Diego Harbor was in full view a few hundred yards to the west. A couple families with small children frolicked in the wading pool, while others picnicked on the grass and tossed Frisbees. San Diego’s idea of bucolic. A pang reverberated in my chest. I thought of Krista and Leah and prayed my family would soon be whole again. Healed and whole.

I wondered where Padres Cap fit in. He walked to the side of the wading pool, sat down, and took off his shoes and socks and dangled his feet in the water. Now I was the one who didn’t fit in.

The Star of India, the world’s oldest active sailing vessel, was docked on the Embarcadero right across Harbor Boulevard. Sunlight danced along the water next to the ship. I kept walking and went onto the lawn and gazed at the Star of India. Just another sightseer.

I gave myself an angle where I

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