Michael Bennet - 02 - Run for Your Life by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 0316018740
Publisher: Hachette Digital, Inc.
Published: 2009-02-02T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 43

AROUND SIX P.M. I was alone in the office, with a newly installed computer. All the detectives were out on the bricks. I heard a tap at the door.

Damned if it wasn’t Cathy Calvin standing there, practically wringing her hands with nervousness.

“Must have taken a lot of investigative skill to find me here,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

“Quit it, Mike. Please? I came to—I won’t even say apologize, I know that’s no good.”

She was right, and I started to tell her so. But she actually seemed sincere. I noticed, too, that she’d changed out of her usual businesswoman combat uniform into a light, summery dress. It made her look softer, more feminine—really quite pretty.

“Just because I didn’t run you in doesn’t mean it’s finished,” I said. “The department’s going to be all over your editors.”

“They deserve it. I mean, I’m not just blaming them. I knew how wrong I was. It’s just?—” She stepped into the room, closing the door most of the way behind her. I could smell her perfume in the warm, still air. “This job makes you crazy,” she said. “The competition’s unbelievable. It’s turned me into a monster. When I started thinking about what I’d done, I just came apart.”

She drifted closer. It was clear that she wanted comforting, and I admit I was tempted to let her slip inside my arms and nestle her face against my chest.

But that temptation was easy to brush aside.

“My job hasn’t made me a nicer guy, either, Cathy,” I said. “But you’ve got to know where to draw the line— it goes with the turf. I figure when the day comes that I can’t find that line anymore, that’s the day I hand in my badge.”

My tone was no more inviting than my words. She stopped her approach.

“I’m leaving you a peace offering,” she said. She took an envelope out of her purse and dropped it on the table, then retreated to the door.

“Go ahead and hate me, Mike,” she said. “I just want you to know I’m really not like that. I’m not.”

Then she was gone.

Of course she wasn’t really like that, I thought. Not until the next time she stood to gain by it.

Inside the envelope was a copy of the Teacher’s original e-mail to her.

And on the bottom, he’d left her a Yahoo Instant Messaging ID where he could be contacted: TEECH1.

Through my clenched teeth, I called Calvin a bitch for not giving me this right away. Peace offering, my ass. Then I sat at my desk and tried to decide what to do with it.

Setting up a trace was difficult and complicated. In order to get the Internet company to assist, court orders would first have to be procured, and even then it could turn out that the message could have come from a public library or a college.

I made up my mind that we didn’t have time for that, and took a stab in the dark. Quickly, I created a Yahoo Instant Messaging ID for myself.

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