The Low Road by Tom Fowler

Author:Tom Fowler [Fowler, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

26

E ddie Heap tried the radio again.

“Porter . . . Kirby. What’s your twenty? Over.”

He knew their location because he sent them to it. They were smart enough to provide an answer which wouldn’t incriminate anyone if a nosy person ever filed a public records request. This marked the third time he’d asked them. They could have been hunting John Tyler at the moment and turned their comms down to avoid giving anything away. Still, it had been a few minutes. Heap grew concerned.

Porter kept an old burner phone for these sorts of operations. Not trackable. Kirby used a more modern device which couldn’t be traced back to him or the city but was new enough to beacon its location. Heap unlocked his PC and fired up the tracking program. He would normally need a warrant to track someone’s movements via their mobile, but Kirby wouldn’t mind. A few seconds later, his location popped up somewhere in the trees behind Billy McGill’s house.

McGill. The man had been a good cop at one point. His lack of interest when it came to sharing in the county’s largesse always puzzled Heap. Why not take free money? Even after the accident took his arm, McGill could have stayed on in a desk job. Instead, he retired. He’d never been a thorn in the city’s side, but he also seemed unhappy. He was the kind of man who knew too much and might tell someone eventually. It made him the perfect ally for a shit disturber like John Tyler . . . and his daughter. She must have made the initial contact.

He went back to the radio. “Porter and Kirby. What’s your twenty? Over.”

Patrick Earl responded. “You want me to check on them, Chief?”

“Shit,” Heap muttered. The downside to using the official comms channel was the likelihood of someone else hearing. Heap picked up his cell and dashed off a quick text to Earl. No, thanks. They’re checking on something for me.

A reply came quickly. Roger that, Chief.

Heap looked at his monitor. Cell phone location data was only so precise. Rather than an exact spot, the range could be up to a hundred yards depending on the coverage and signal strength—which was dicey in some parts of the county but generally good within Beauregard’s city limits. Kirby’s location hadn’t moved. It was possible his position changed but was still within the limitations of the system to report it precisely. He could have been anywhere from McGill’s street to the houses on the other side of the trees.

Sending a couple more cops to check on things would be the prudent move. If this were a routine call, Heap would. It was way off the books, however. If McGill’s house were ablaze, the fire department would be on their way. Maybe they’d already arrived. Heap needed to contain this. The more people who knew what was really going on, the more potential problems there might be down the road.

He dialed both men’s cell phones. Both rang several times before their voicemails cut off the calls.

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