Cold Snow: A Legal Thriller by John Nicholas Read Free Book Online Page B

would be 50 states…"
     
    "With all due respect, I'm not here to talk geography."
     
    "Then what are you here to talk?"
     
    "Where is your son now?"
     
    "How the hell should I know? Could be anywhere. Could be dead, for all I know."
     
    Ordoñez was a bit worried now. "Dead?"
     
    "Not likely, but possible. The kid's pretty smart. You can't even imagine how hard it was to keep him from getting out." Roland groaned. "Years of psychological warfare, and I finally lost to a kid. A kid ." He sank back into his chair, as if trying to purge himself of this thought.
     
    A smart kid, Ordoñez thought. This will be fun.
     
    Roland cut off his thoughts. "So what exactly is it that you do, Ordoñez?"
     
    "I'm a tracker."
     
    "A tracker?"
     
    "A population reduction agent. A human hunter."
     
    "Get to the point."
     
    "I'm an assassin, Mr. Orson."
     
    Ordinarily, Ordoñez appreciated the shock value of this statement, but to his surprise, Roland didn't even seem fazed. "Interesting…but it's imperative that he is brought back alive. Can you do that?"
     
    Alive. This will be great. Like he said, psychological warfare. Best part of the job.
     
    "I can do that. But I require extra."
     
    "Name your price."
     
    "500 dollars a day, plus expenses."
     
    "I'll consider it. But first, I need to know your first name. Something might come up."
     
    Ordoñez hesitated. "Alberto."
     
     
     
    Machry's head was spinning, lights were flashing before his eyes, and it felt like someone was pounding a hammer on the spot where Ordoñez had kicked him.
     
    Cautiously, he rose. Looking around, he saw that Ordoñez's car was gone. Machry wondered wether he was still in town—probably talking with Orson.
     
    Brushing the snow off his pants, he made his way back inside. When the doors opened, he hailed the receptionist.
     
    "Linda, I need to talk to you. Did Ordoñez leave any information?
     
    "Nothing, sir. Only his name." She looked at him. "How did you get all that snow on your clothes? Did you trip?"
     
    "Yes. It's urgent, Linda—are you sure he didn't tell you anything?"
     
    "Absolutely nothing. He just walked in, told me his name, asked to see you, and then you walked in, and he left," she said, adding irritatedly, "With my newspaper cutouts, too."
     
    "I ask because he just left to talk to Roland Orson. I'm afraid he'll seriously complicate the case."
     
    "As if it's not complicated enough already. Wait… he did say something else…New York. He's from the New York City branch."
     
    "New York City. Thank you, Linda."
     
    "How are things going outside of town?"
     
    "I was there a while ago. No signs of any of them."
     
    "Nothing?"
     
    "It's strange. Alex must have known we were on the case since we visited yesterday. Yet, he chooses to take meager supplies and walk fifty miles along the interstate to the next town, which will most likely send him back here. Why?"
     
    "I don't know. He's probably made some plans and doesn't want to go back on them. Which reminds me—why did you ask me to make sure nobody took him away?"
     
    "Because they'd put him in the orphanage, and any amount of abuse is preferable to that hellhole."
     
    "I see your point. Do you think that's why Sarah Jones left?"
     
    "Most likely. What about Jake Harwell, though? His parents are perfectly nice people. I've met them. His home is great, he does well in school, he has lots of friends, and yet he chooses to run with Alex—who would make that sacrafice?"
     
    "I really don't know, sir. I really don't know."
     
    Seated in his car, parked on the edge of town, Ordoñez got the familiar good feeling he got whenever he was about to go on the hunt. His weapon of choice, a .45 pistol, felt like an old friend in his hand. Orson had graciously agreed to his price, and he was already working on his plan for intercepting the runaway in the countryside. He only hoped the little brat had traveling companions—friends gave him some leverage, made the job a lot