Edge by Deaver Jeffrey

Author:Deaver, Jeffrey [Deaver, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Adult, Crime, Suspense, Thriller
ISBN: 9781439195956
Google: nVtlRAAACAAJ
Amazon: 1439195951
Barnesnoble: 1439195951
Goodreads: 9435890
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 2010-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

BILL CARTER SAT silently beside me and a glance in the rearview mirror revealed Amanda in the backseat, staring out the window at the overcast fall afternoon. We were ten miles from Carter’s lake house.

I was not thinking of what had just happened at Carter’s property but was wrestling with a difficult memory. Peggy, the boys and I were driving in the country and I spotted a bad roadside accident ahead. I’d stopped to see if I could help the stoic but young and shaken county troopers. They say that mothers are better than fathers at remaining detached around accidents and blood and trauma. Not Peggy. She’d climbed into the back with the boys and clutched them to her. The ostensible purpose was to make sure they looked away from the overturned cars and the mangled bodies, as yet uncovered, but in fact she was hiding her face, as well as the boys’. (Thinking again about another similarity between Maree and my wife: the whipsawing between carefree optimism and edgy distress.)

Back then, at the site of the accident, Sammy and Jeremy had managed to peek, despite their mother’s huddle. Jer, the oldest, was horrified at what he saw and began sobbing uncontrollably. Sam, though, said, “Daddy, that man lying there. He doesn’t have a hand. How can he eat ice cream?” Not a tragedy to him; a mystery.

You just didn’t know how young people would respond to trauma.

I saw Sam’s face, unperturbed and curious, reflected in Amanda’s.

“You all right, honey?” I asked, surprised I’d used the endearment.

She looked toward me, nodded and then studied Carter’s Beretta shotgun, open and sitting on the seat beside her.

Hitting a speed dial button, I called Freddy.

“Hey,” he said.

“You there?”

“Nice place. I may retire here.”

I hadn’t really appreciated the comforts of Carter’s summer home.

“Anything?”

“They’re gone.”

“The chopper?”

“Had to be.”

“No,” I said. “I know that’s how they were extracted. I mean do you have any details on it?”

“Negative. So far. We’re still canvassing. Some wits reported hearing a helicopter low and nearby. They thought it was going down, you know, crashing. A couple nine-one-one calls. Nobody—”

“Saw anything?”

“Interesting question, son. They looked but they heard only a ruckus and saw leaves and dust. Landed between two stands of trees thirty feet apart. That takes some skill.”

“More, it takes some equipment. Expensive … Find the car?”

“Stolen months ago. Somebody else’s tags. We were hoping to get the partner’s prints but didn’t find a single, solitary swirl.”

“The neighbors?”

“They’re fine.”

I told Carter and Amanda about their friends, then turned my attention back to Freddy. I told him, “I’ll get Claire tracking down the chopper.” Our organization is always flying our principals around the country, sometimes internationally, so we had good contacts with the FAA and private charter companies. The fact that the craft seemed small, which meant it had a short range and would have to be based somewhere near here, would give duBois some guidance in finding the lessee.

Freddy continued, “Somebody’s hurt. We found blood.”

“Where?”

“Roadside. The wall and some bushes.

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