The Max Porter Box Set by Stuart Jaffe

Author:Stuart Jaffe [Jaffe, Stuart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal Mystery
Publisher: Stuart Jaffe
Published: 2016-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

When Max entered his office, he went straight for the bookcase and the whiskey. He would have to watch that or he’d be looking at an alcoholic in the mirror pretty soon.

With a startling clap of the hands, Drummond popped in. “That’s the painting? You got it? Good work.”

“I also got shot at.”

As Max recounted his evening, the ghost detective smiled. “Just like my old days. This is great.”

“Great? This is crap, and it’s crap that’s going to get Sandra killed. Now, come on. Stop being an ass and help me figure out the best way to exchange this thing for Sandra.”

“For a start, you can calm down. You won’t be any good if you go into this acting crazy.” Max took another swig, put the flask back in the book, and slumped in his office chair. Floating in front of the painting, Drummond continued, “Now, you’ve done a good thing in getting Corkille to recreate this painting. That’s an ace in our pocket. Of course, the big ace is the painting itself. So, once you’re calm enough to think and speak clearly, you’ve got to call Connor and arrange a meeting.”

“Where? When? You’ll have to excuse me, but I’ve never dealt with a hostage negotiation before.”

“Easy does it. I’ll help you out.”

Rage and tears filled out Max’s chest. “I can’t lose her. You understand that? She’s everything to me.”

All the amusement flushed from Drummond’s pale face. In his kindest voice, he said, “Trust me, Max. We’ll get her back.”

Max looked at Sandra’s empty desk, took a long breath, and eased back. “Okay,” he whispered. “What do we do?”

“We need a location that’s close enough so that I can be there. It should be public enough to protect you but secluded enough to not draw unwanted attention. And we need a time that’s soon — before the world really starts waking up and getting on with the day. The longer we wait, the worse things have a chance of going. How long will Corkille take on the painting?”

“I’ve no idea. He’s two hundred years old.”

“But he’s a spry two hundred.”

In spite of himself, Max chuckled. Like popping a cork, laughter burst out of him until tears flowed from his eyes. Drummond said nothing. He just floated, waiting for Max to regain control, and Max appreciated it. They both knew this was the release he needed in order to keep functioning.

At length, Max dabbed at his eyes and said, “What about The Grand Theater?”

“The movie house?”

“It’s a big eighteen screen theater with a huge parking lot. Nobody’ll be there until the first shows — probably around noon. We could meet around the back for plenty of privacy but it’s also public enough to satisfy — there are homes bordering one side and a major road with businesses on the other.”

Drummond thought it over. “It’s also just on the edge of the city. Plenty close for me to get around. Sounds perfect.”

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