Countdown by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online Page B

truth.”
    His gaze slid away. “The police didn’t think so.”
    “They will when I have a talk with them. I’m a cop’s kid. That’s almost family. They’ll pay attention when I ask them to look closer at you.”
    “They won’t find anything. It’s not as if I’m some juvenile delinquent. I come from a good family.”
    “And I come from one of the lousiest neighborhoods in Atlanta, where whores and pimps and every kind of scum walk the street. That’s how I can recognize scum when I see it.”
    “Let me out of the car.”
    “When you tell me who paid you and why.”
    His lips tightened. “You’re only a woman. I could force you to open this door anytime I choose. I’m just placating you.”
    “I’m a woman brought up by a cop who was a SEAL and wanted me to be able to keep myself safe. Joe’s first rule was don’t waste your time if you’re attacked. Assume you’re going to be killed and react accordingly. Kill them.”
    “You’re bluffing.”
    “I’m telling you the way it is. You’re the one who threatened me. All I want right now is information.”
    “You’re not going to get it. Don’t you think I know you’ll go running to the police?” He burst out, “And it wasn’t my fault. None of it was my fault.”
    A crack in the armor. “No one’s going to believe that if you don’t go to the police and confess.”
    “Confess? Criminals confess. I didn’t do anything criminal. I didn’t know.” He gave her a panicky glance. “And I’ll tell them you lied if you say I—”
    “What didn’t you know?”
    He was silent. Yet she could feel his sick fear. He was almost there. Push him a little bit more. “You were an accessory to murder. They’ll put you away and throw away the key. Or does this state have a death penalty?”
    “Bitch.”
    Breaking. Push a little harder. “I’ll go straight from here to the police. They’ll probably pick you up in a few hours. If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll let you turn yourself in and try to schmooze your way out of this.”
    “It’s not my fault . Nothing was supposed to happen. They said that they just wanted to talk to you and you weren’t cooperating.”
    “Who wanted to talk to me?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “Who?”
    “I don’t know. Leonard . . . I don’t remember.”
    “Was Leonard his first name or his last name?”
    “I told you—I don’t— His last. If it was his real name.”
    “Why should you doubt it?”
    “I didn’t, until— I didn’t want Mike to die—I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
    “Do you know Leonard’s first name?”
    He was silent a moment. “Ryan.”
    “What was the other man’s name?”
    “I have no idea. He never introduced himself. Leonard did all the talking.”
    “Where did you meet them?”
    “I didn’t meet them exactly. I was sitting in a bar a few weeks ago and they sat down and started talking. I needed the money and they promised it would be okay. All I had to do was make sure you came to the alley so they could talk to you.”
    “And it wasn’t difficult, was it? Because Mike was so easy to manipulate. Just jerk a few strings and he’d dance.”
    “I liked Mike. I didn’t want to hurt him.”
    “You did hurt him. You made him feel inadequate and then you set him up.”
    “I need the money. Harvard’s expensive, and my parents can barely afford the tuition. I was living like a pauper.”
    “Did you think of getting a job?”
    “Like you did?” he asked sourly. “So perfect. Mike hated that about you.”
    Don’t show him how that jab hurt. “How do we find this Ryan Leonard?”
    He shrugged. “I have no idea. They gave me half the money when I agreed to do it, and they put an envelope with the rest of the cash in my post office box when I called and told them I’d bring you to the Red Rooster that night. I haven’t heard from them since.”
    “Do you still have the envelope?”
    He nodded. “I didn’t spend the money. It’s still in the envelope. After