Night Watchman by Mynheir Mark

Author:Mynheir, Mark [Mynheir, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Religion
ISBN: 9781601422415
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 7146486
Publisher: Multnomah Books
Published: 2009-05-05T00:00:00+00:00

30

I'D HAD GOD IN MY FACE every day since Pam and this case shoved its way into my life. Now the Prophet Porter?

Meeting with Tim had gone well, at least from the investigative end. I got more from him than I thought I would. His last comment stuck with me, though. In no way would Pam find out about that part of our conversation. It could whip her into a religious frenzy.

The metallic buzzer signaled, and the sliding door rolled open. Prisons don't seem to have that homey feel for me. I had to give Tim Porter credit. With just a few phone calls, he got me a two-person contact visit with Dante Hill at the Lawtey Correctional Institution near Jacksonville. Crevis and I made good time on the drive up.

This contact visit would put me in the same room with Dante Hill—quite possibly Trisha's killer and the man who crippled me.

“They're bringing Hill up now.” Our minder was a burly corrections officer about my height but supersized, a good forty pounds heavier, most of it in the chest. He sported the Lex Luthor hairstyle: slick and shiny all over.

I had to wrap my head around a couple of serious facts. Dante Hill had been dating Jamie around the time Trisha and I were ambushed in his driveway. Eleven months later Jamie was murdered in David's apartment, the same condo where I work. If I were of a suspicious nature, I'd say I was a little too tangled in this mess.

Crevis was nearly unrecognizable, with his shirt tucked in and his flattop trimmed to a razor's edge. On the ride up, I filled him in about Dante. I told him he'd have to be on his best behavior when we arrived, and that under no condition could he bring any weapon into the prison—no knives, no brass knuckles, no saps, no Kubotans. If he brought any of those, he'd become a guest here, not just a visitor. I left my pistol in the truck. After carrying one for so long, I felt naked and vulnerable without it.

“This is weird.” Crevis searched the walls for any escape. “I don't like it.”

“I've never been big on doors locking behind me either.”

Lex's boots tapped out a cadence for us as we marched down a narrow green hallway toward the interview rooms. In nearly every prison I've been in, and I've visited many, I can't figure out why they always seem to be painted green. Maybe there's some deep psychological reason for the color, like it calms people and such. It drove me nuts.

Lex drew a set of keys from his duty belt and unlocked the door, which had a frame of glass in it. Not much larger than a closet, the room had a table and three chairs. It was used by the prison system's investigations division. Crude, but good enough for what we needed. I took a seat while Crevis leaned against the wall.

A shuffle of feet outside the door announced the guest of honor's arrival.

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