Destroying Angel by Michael Wallace Read Free Book Online Page B

this?” Jacob asked.
    “About two weeks ago,” Krantz said. “I scanned this footage once already and somehow missed it, but then I ran out of memory and was set to record over this batch, and I thought I should take one more look.”
    “Any other entries?”
    “No, this is the only one I found.”
    “Once is enough,” Miriam said. “Run it again.” Krantz obeyed, and Miriam had him pause it when Taylor Junior looked up. “Yes, he definitely sees the camera. Check out how his face changes, and then he looks away too quickly.”
    Eliza thought of Taylor Junior walking around town at night, imagined him outside the house, looking up at her window, and shuddered. And then there was the bag.
    Jacob leaned back in the sofa with his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “What’s he doing? Robbing houses?”
    “He’s preparing for another attack,” Eliza said. “Look at the bag. It changes weight.”
    Krantz ran it a third time.
    “I almost didn’t see it,” she said, “because I was watching his face. But see the duffel bag? It’s lighter on the way back. Not empty—maybe he did steal supplies—but he left some stuff in town too.”
    “But what?” Miriam asked.
    “Could be anything. Weapons, maybe.”
    “Huge risk coming into town through Witch’s Warts,” Miriam said. “Everyone in Blister Creek knows Taylor Junior escaped that way. People see someone sneaking out of Witch’s Warts late at night, they’re going to shoot first and ask questions later.”
    “You don’t have to tell me,” Krantz said. “I’ve seen grannies with .44 Magnums and twelve-year-old kids toting shotguns. It’s like Mogadishu out there. I’m scared to drive through town after dark without my lights flashing.”
    “Can you blame them?” Miriam said. “And imagine if they knew about this tape.”
    “Better keep it quiet for now,” Jacob said. “We’re on high enough alert already.”
    “Of course. But we can’t sit on our hands either, not when that guy is sneaking around at night.” Miriam hesitated. “You know the best way to put an end to this, don’t you?”
    Eliza knew what Miriam was driving at—she and Krantz had discussed that option several times. “If the FBI can’t find them, what makes you think we’ve got a chance?”
    “So, what, we sit here doing nothing?” Miriam said.
    Krantz turned to Jacob. “What should we do, boss?”
    “You’ve got my permission to spend whatever it takes on CCTV. I hate to turn the valley into a prison camp blanketed withcameras, but if the alternative is another attack…” Jacob shook his head and looked distracted for a moment, then focused his eyes again. “Miriam, what if you went undercover?”
    “Undercover? Where?”
    “Tap into the gossip mill. See if any women are acting suspicious. Complain about me, try to draw out any grumblers. Maybe he’s getting help.”
    Eliza frowned. Who would help Taylor Junior now? If he’d had sympathizers at one time, surely the horrific chemical weapon attacks at Zarahemla, the hospital, and Blister Creek had destroyed that bond. And after the hideout in Dark Canyon and the sinkhole in Witch’s Warts, she didn’t think Taylor Junior needed help creeping in and out of the valley undetected.
    From Miriam’s snort, it was clear she didn’t think much of Jacob’s idea either.
    “I know it’s a reach,” Jacob started. “But we don’t have much to work with. What if—”
    “Hold on,” Eliza interrupted. “I just thought of something.”
    There
were
people who had helped Taylor Junior. Never mind the remnants of his church, hiding even deeper in the wilderness—what about the three men who had joined him in his attack? Two of the men had died, but one had not.
    “There’s one man who knows something. You could say he’s a captive audience.”
    Jacob blinked, and then a frown spread across his face. “He isn’t talking.”
    “Not yet, he’s not.”
    “I don’t see how we’ll change