The Poet by David Beers

Author:David Beers [Beers, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imperium Media
Published: 2020-07-02T04:00:00+00:00

16

"Can we get him up there without anyone seeing him?"

Patrick was staring at the television in his hotel room. It didn't matter what channel he put it on—so long as it was a news-based station, they were only covering one thing.

The W-Hotel had been the site of horrific murder last night. Triple murder, to be exact. It hadn’t taken long to figure out who’d been killed, because the man’s fingerprints were on file due to his multiple run-ins with the law. Zack Johnsone. The drug addicted son of a congressman. Apparently in a swing district this time around, and the congressman had already started talking on the television, complete with tears and comments about his son, postponing his campaign while he dealt with his grief. From what Patrick gathered, none of it was true. He didn't give one damn about his son, but appearances must be kept.

None of the political intricacies mattered to Patrick. A day had passed since he and Windsor saw Titan, and whatever other plans they'd made in that day were now gone. Right now Patrick was on the phone with his boss, trying to figure out how to get Windsor to the crime scene.

"It's possible to bring him here," Sins responded, "though it's not going to be easy. How important is it for him to come see it?"

Patrick glanced to Windsor, sitting on the other bed with his back against the headboard. He didn't want to bring the felon either, but he knew what Windsor would say about it without even asking.

"It seems to be imperative," Patrick said into the phone.

"Has he given you anything yet?" Sins asked. "You haven't even told me what happened with Titan."

Patrick closed his eyes and stifled a groan. He hadn't had time to tell anyone anything, given what happened in the past twenty-four hours; moreover, he wasn't exactly sure what had happened. "Yes, there's some new information, but I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to present it yet."

"And why not?" Sins responded.

Patrick could hear the television running in the background, his eyes still closed. He shouldn't have even taken this call in front of Windsor, but it was too late for that now. "Given what he's telling me, I want to make sure I have the correct backing before I give it to anyone. It’s unconfirmed, and if he’s wrong, I don't want us acting on it. I need more confirmation first." He opened his eyes and looked toward Windsor again.

The felon was still watching the TV, looking like he hadn't heard a word Patrick said.

"So, basically, you've got nothing yet. That about right?" Sins asked.

"Nothing actionable, ma'am," Patrick responded. "Do you want me to bring him to the crime scene?"

"Jesus-Fucking-Christ," Sins swore. "Trunner is there now, along with forensics. This isn't like the others. The entire building has been evacuated. It’s an active crime scene."

Patrick knew she wasn't talking to him, but rather herself. Gathering her thoughts in her own vulgar way.

After a moment of silence, Sins continued. "I'm going to meet you in Atlanta.

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