Storm Front: A Derrick Storm Thriller by Richard Castle

Author:Richard Castle [CASTLE, RICHARD]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction / Mystery & Detective - General, Fiction / Thrillers / General, Fiction / Media Tie-In
Publisher: Hyperion Digital
Published: 2013-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

CHAPPAQUA, New York

He had been able to rent a Mustang, which meant that for all the turmoil, there was at least one thing right in Storm’s world—the throaty, American-made V8 engine at his command.

It was shortly before eight o’clock by the time the Mustang’s GPS told him to depart the main drag, King Street, and point himself toward a WASP playground called Whippoorwill Country Club. Downshifting rather than braking, he made the turn and was just starting to enjoy the twisty, back country roads, when the GPS told him he was 250 yards from arriving. He slowed, looked left, and saw nothing. He looked right and saw a narrow driveway that disappeared into the trees up a hill. He twisted the wheel to the right.

Partway up the driveway, he encountered a gate with a call box next to it. Storm didn’t feel like having a conversation with a piece of plastic, so he rolled down his window, popped the facing off the box, and hotwired it. “Open Sesame,” he said as the gate swung out of his way.

He continued up the drive until he reached the circular end, which fronted a stone-faced Georgian Colonial that resided just barely on this side of ostentatious. The property that surrounded it felt like at least twelve acres. If Storm had had to put a price on the whole thing, he’d have said seven million. That was tip money to a guy of Cracker’s wealth. He must have been one of those rich guys who didn’t like to get too flashy with his dough. Or maybe his wife refused to upgrade.

Storm parked the Mustang in front of a detached garage that looked like it had room for at least five vehicles. He gave his own car a longing glance as he left it, then walked up to the front door. He rang. Unsurprisingly, the Cracker residence had one of those doorbells you expected to be answered by a butler.

Instead, the man of the house answered, opening the wooden inner door wide but leaving the outer, half-glass, half-screen door closed. He was still wearing his suit pants and a blue button-down shirt, but he had replaced his suit jacket with a cardigan sweater. Welcome to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.

“Can I help you?” he asked through the screen, looking somewhere between bewildered and awestruck. With good reason. A big chunk of man had showed up unannounced on his doorstep in the dark of night.

Storm had been having a debate with himself as to how much he should tell Cracker and how much he should leave out. He took a look at him, gauging the man. Maybe it was the blond hair or the cardigan, but Storm’s first impression was that he was a lightweight. Then Storm looked again and something told him Cracker was made of stern enough stuff. He could handle the truth. What’s more, he would insist on it.

“Mr. Cracker, my name is Derrick Storm. I’m working for the CIA on a case that may involve you.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.