Chaos Theory by Graham Masterton Read Free Book Online Page A

relationship had been one long argument, punctuated by long nights of sweaty grappling in bed.
    As Noah left, Jenna took off her sunglasses and said, ‘Let me know what you find out about that medallion.’
    ‘Sure.’ He kissed her on both cheeks, but then she kissed him directly on the lips.
    ‘Don’t get any ideas,’ she said. ‘That was for old times’ sake.’
     
    He turned his truck around and gave her a wave and a blast on his horn. As he drove away, he glimpsed her in his rear-view mirror, standing by the curb. She lifted her arm once, although she couldn’t have known whether he was watching her or not. He had been aware that he would have mixed feelings about her when he met her again, but he had never realized how conflicting those feelings would be, or how strong.
    Just because they were so obviously bad for each other didn’t mean that he didn’t still want her.
    He had almost reached the end of the street when he saw a silver Buick sedan draw up outside Jenna’s house and park. He slowed down and pulled over. Maybe this was the lawyer. It would be interesting to see what he looked like, and how old he was. Noah had always been self-conscious about his age, compared to Jenna’s. When they had been together, he had lost count of the times that he had been gushingly greeted with ‘How wonderful to meet you! You must be Jenna’s father!’ He had always tried to convince himself that it was his prematurely grey hair that aged him so much.
    He saw Jenna lean over and talk to the passenger. Then he saw the driver get out and walk around the car: a heavily-built black man in a pale grey suit. The passenger got out, too, a blond-haired man with sunglasses. It looked as if they were taking hold of Jenna’s arms and leading her back into the house.
    Noah twisted around in his seat. What the hell was all that about? He hadn’t been able to see too clearly, but the way the two men had hurried Jenna through her front door had given him the distinct impression that she had been forced inside, against her will.
    He backed his Super Duty up the street, very fast, and slewed it around 180 degrees in front of Jenna’s house. He jumped down from the driver’s seat and ran up her path. The door was closed, and when he tried the handle, he found that it was locked. But he hammered on it with his fist and shouted out, ‘Jenna! It’s Noah. Is everything OK? Jenna! ’
    He hammered again, but there was no answer, so he decided to try around the back. Just as he turned away from the front door, however, another silver sedan came speeding up the road and slid to a halt right behind his truck. Two more men climbed out, both wearing dark glasses and light grey suits. One of them was tall and bulky, and walked with a muscle-bound waddle, like a wrestler. His face was flat and round, maybe Hawaiian, and his hair was knotted at the back of his neck in a tiny pigtail. The other man was short and slight and spidery, with an unusually small head.
    ‘Who are you?’ Noah demanded. ‘What’s going on here?’
    ‘Who has the medallion?’ asked the spidery man. ‘Did you give it to your girlfriend, or do you still have it?’
    ‘What? What the hell are you talking about? What medallion?’
    ‘Come on, Mr Flynn. You know darned well what medallion.’
    ‘Who the hell are you? Are you cops or what? Where’s your ID?’
    The spidery man came up to him and took off his dark glasses. He had a bony, complicated nose and glittery eyes that were too close together, as if there had scarcely been enough space on his face to crowd in all of his features. He smelled strongly of mentholated chest rub.
    ‘The medallion doesn’t belong to you, Mr Flynn. I need you to give it to me.’
    The Hawaiian-looking man came closer, and stood with his legs apart, interlacing his fingers and flexing them backward and forward. He was such a typecast heavy that Noah couldn’t help shaking his head in derision.
    ‘Something’s funny?’ asked