Kill Promise (Jack Widow Book 18) by Scott Blade

Author:Scott Blade [Blade, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Lion Media
Published: 2022-12-18T16:00:00+00:00

16

From the inside of a black SUV parked down the street, they watched Widow walk out of the sheriff's station. He walked out of the station almost as fast as he’d entered. The deputy had taken him in. They saw it happen. Presumably, Sheriff Vedely interrogated him. But now they watched him leave.

Harvey glanced at his rearview mirror to see his passenger. They both wore dark sunglasses, even though gray skies loomed overhead. Harvey asked, “What do you think?”

Vedely said, “Not sure.”

Just then, Vedely’s phone buzzed. It was a text message. He checked it, and said, “Our man in Quantico says Jason Dessen isn’t his name. It’s not a real name.”

“Alias?”

“Gotta be.”

“Did they check to see if the Sheriff checked his ID? You know? Maybe the cops entered it into the system.”

“Let’s just ask them directly,” Vedely said, and pointed out the SUV’s windshield at one of the deputies. He walked out of the sheriff’s office, towards his police vehicle.

The deputy pulled the handle on the driver’s side door, opened it, and was about to hop in, but then he glanced to the right, down the street, and saw a pair of headlights flashing at him.

Damnit, he thought. He shut his door and looked back at the sheriff’s station to make sure no one was watching him. He checked around the parking lot. No one was looking at him. He shut the door and jogged away down the street. He stopped at the black SUV, and leaned into the open driver’s side window.

Harvey waved him to the rear door. He nodded and stepped back to it and opened it. He peered in and saw Vedely sitting on the other side.

Vedely said, “Get in.”

The deputy slid into the backseat and closed the door.

Harvey spun around from the driver’s seat, stared at the deputy, and put his hand out, open-palmed, like he was waiting for his change back.

Vedely said, “Give him your gun.”

The deputy pulled his Glock 22. He held it in his hand a long second. Then, hesitantly, he reversed it and handed it to Harvey, who took it, and spun back around to face the road and the sheriff’s station.

Vedely asked, “What’s the stranger’s name?”

The deputy looked at him, and back at Harvey, who watched him from the rearview mirror. He looked confused. He said, “Jason Dessen.”

Vedely said, “No. It’s not. We already checked it with the FBI.”

“That’s the name he gave us?”

“Did you guys check his ID?”

The deputy paused a beat, stared at his empty hands. Then, he said, “We had no reason to charge him.”

Vedely said, “I didn’t ask if you charged him. I asked did you ID him?”

The deputy said nothing.

Vedely shouted, “What’s his name?!”

“I don’t know. I thought it was Dessen.”

Vedely furrowed his brow, and rubbed his forehead, like he had a sudden migraine. He said, “Okay. Get out.” He waved the deputy away, like he was a servant.

The deputy looked at Harvey, and asked, “Can I have my gun back?”

Harvey stared at him through the rearview mirror.

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