The Black Kachina by Jack Getze

Author:Jack Getze
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

TWENTY-ONE

Maggie enjoyed the way Billy Payton glared at the Special Bastard in Charge. So far, Chip Daley had held up well under the general’s most withering scowl, but Maggie doubted the FBI agent could remain unruffled. She knew that look. Billy was pissed. The three of them huddled in a private room near El Centro Regional Hospital’s Emergency Room. Maggie held a fresh Starbucks. Untouched. The lid on.

“You haven’t found either Torres or Melancon,” Billy said, “so I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think, Daley—not about Colonel Black’s interrogative skills, not about who’s in charge of the interview, not about the evil reporter.”

Daley said, “I—”

Billy cut him off. “Don’t open your mouth until I’m finished. What I do give a rat’s ass about is finding that weapon before it kills somebody. The FBI is supposedly the best at finding people. Why don’t you go find Torres and Melancon? This reporter Jordan Scott could know a lot about our two suspects and the missile’s location, but he didn’t call you, he called Colonel Black. She should not only be back on the investigation, she should run this interview. Do you understand?”

“She has no experience,” Daley said.

“Do I have to call Washington and have you replaced? Bet I have higher-placed friends in the DOD than you.”

Daley lifted his chin. “Give Washington your best shot, General. But Homeland Security says the FBI is in charge of this hunt, and that means I’m doing this interrogation.”

Maggie hated guys like Daley. Or maybe she hated Daley.

“As a courtesy to the Air Force,” Daley said, “and to you personally, I will let Colonel Black sit in.”

Billy glanced at Maggie. She accepted Daley’s terms by signaling with an eyebrow. Maggie was thrilled to be included in the FBI interview. Sort of.

Maggie followed Special Agent Daley into a claustrophobic cubicle with gray curtains for walls, white tile floors and a bright blue cupboard topped with jars of bandages and cotton balls. She offered the untouched coffee to Jordan. “So, you’ve seen my missile?”

Daley glared. “I’ll ask the questions.”

Jordan held his blue eyes on Maggie like spotlights. “It had to be your missile. Twenty feet long. Looked like a giant silver cigar tube with an Air Force insignia on the side. I recognized the old AGM. I looked them up last week.”

Maggie nodded.

“Where were you when you saw the missile?” Daley asked.

“I don’t know what city, but we were in a professional work space, maybe one of those rent-a-garage places that began springing up a decade ago. This one was recently built, too. Clean floor. New paint. Even the workbenches and office furniture looked right out of the crate. The lamp still had plastic on the shade.”

“But you don’t know what part of town,” Daley said.

“No.”

“Over by the highway maybe? Did you see anything recognizable—a shopping center, any landmarks?”

“No. I was blindfolded. I saw nothing that wasn’t inside the workspace.”

Woodward Construction’s talkative secretary had given up the payroll information on the two men to Maggie and the FBI, but the listed residences had been fake.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.