Envy the Night by Michael Koryta

Author:Michael Koryta [Koryta, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3, pdf
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense
ISBN: 0312361580
Google: 6ih5ckJEeBQC
Amazon: 0312357419
Barnesnoble: 0312357419
Goodreads: 2467322
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2008-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

20

__________

Grady hadn’t dated much since Adrian left. The occasional setup, or maybe somebody he’d meet at a party and see once or twice again, but nothing serious. He had a date for Saturday night, though, a woman who worked computers at one of the major Chicago banks and had been assigned to help Grady review hundreds of transactions. He was with a team that was trying to trace terrorism dollars now, the new concern, and Helen was the liaison the bank had offered up to the Bureau. They’d spent the better part of two weeks together, going over numbers that led nowhere, and Grady had enjoyed her very much. Good-looking, personable, and able to laugh at herself, which was certainly not a trait Adrian had possessed. He wouldn’t have asked her out; there was a professionalism issue as excuse, but the reality was that he’d never been good at that, getting around to the actual question. Two days after he’d broken off from the project, though, she called him at work and asked if he wanted to go to dinner. It was the first time a woman had ever done that with Grady.

He was in a good mood as Saturday afternoon wore down, went for a long run along the lake and then spent an extra ten minutes stretching, felt the week’s tension leave his muscles and fade into the air. When he got back to the apartment he showered and—this was embarrassing—tried on three different shirt-and-pants combinations, feeling like a high school kid. He’d just decided on a black button-down with a dark green pair of gabardines, was still threading the belt around his waist, when the phone rang. Not the home number, but his cell, which meant it wasn’t a call that he could ignore. He fastened the belt and answered the phone.

“Agent Morgan?”

“Speaking.”

“Ron Atkins calling from Wausau.”

Wausau? Grady knew there was a field office up there, but what in the hell could Wausau have cooking on a Saturday evening that required his attention?

“What can I do for you?” Grady said, standing before the full-length mirror and taking inventory, trying to ignore the gray hair.

“I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday night like this, but I’ve been doing a little research, and it looks like you’re the foremost expert we’ve got on Frank Temple.”

Grady watched his face change in the mirror, saw it drape with concern and alarm.

“Which one?” he said. Please say the dead one, Atkins. Tell me it’s old, tell me it’s something very old.

“The son,” Atkins said. “Frank the Third.”

Grady turned away from the mirror and walked out to the living room, the sick taste of defeat rising in his mouth. Wausau. Shit, he should have remembered. That town was maybe fifty miles from the cabin, that infamous family cabin Frank had spoken of with such warmth, the one he wasn’t sure he could ever return to, the one his father had purchased with Matteson and the other soldier, Ballard.

“What’s happening?” Grady said.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.

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