Dust Up: A Thriller by Jon McGoran Read Free Book Online Page B

of here,” she said wearily. “If they don’t catch me first.”
    She looked at me again, that long, appraising look. Before she could decide whether or not I measured up, I asked, “Why was your husband at my front door? And why were you there, too?”
    She looked at her feet. At the mention of her husband, she seemed to lose some of the toughness she’d been trying to exude. She closed her eyes, trying to keep it together.
    I felt for her, whatever was going on. It was obvious she was hurting, grieving, and stuck in a situation where she couldn’t mourn.
    “Did you shoot your husband?” I asked quietly.
    She glared at me, bitterness and sarcasm burning through the tears gathering in her eyes. “No, I didn’t fucking shoot my husband.” She looked away dismissively, as if she couldn’t believe I was as stupid and gullible as the rest of them.
    “I didn’t think so, but I had to ask. Did you see who did?”
    She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to be there. I followed him to make sure he was okay, to see what would happen. I was parked down the block, and this other car drives past, a black SUV, and it parks down the street from your house. It didn’t register at first. But as Ron went up the steps, it drives up, and as he’s knocking, they … they shot him.” She looked down for a moment, then she cleared her throat and looked up at me. “I didn’t see them.”
    I paused a second, letting her compose herself.
    “I panicked and drove away, terrified, but I came back a few minutes later, drove past … Ron was still lying on the steps, surrounded by cops. I knew he was dead for sure.”
    I gave her a few moments to collect herself.
    “They found the murder weapon,” I told her. “It has your prints on it.”
    “What?”
    “They found the gun. Ballistics matched it. Your fingerprints were on it.”
    “That’s bullshit.” Her tears seemed to evaporate in the heat of her anger. “Your ballistics guy must be in on it.”
    I shook my head. “He’s not. I know him. I trust him.”
    “You can’t trust anyone. Not anymore.”
    “Bourden said he thought Ron might be involved in corporate espionage.”
    “That’s what I’d say if I were him. I mean, I guess if they saw him skulking around, doing searches and running tests and assays not directly related to his core functions, they might get suspicious about that. But I doubt they really thought that’s what was going on.”
    “What did you do after Ron was shot?”
    “When I saw he was dead, I got the hell out of there.”
    “Where did you go?”
    “I don’t know. I just drove, for like an hour, terrified they were coming after me. Before I even thought about it, I was headed to Boston, but I realized that just because I don’t have anyone there anymore didn’t mean they wouldn’t look there, anyway.”
    “Did you go back to your apartment?”
    She shook her head. Of course not. And if she had, she wouldn’t have stashed the murder weapon there.
    “Why’d you come back to Philly?”
    She shrugged. “I need to disappear. But first I wanted to tell you what Ron was going to tell you, clear my name with somebody … And maybe help you find out who killed Ron.”
    “You know the only way to clear your name is to stay here and fight the charges.”
    She shook her head. “They killed Ron. They’ll kill me. I’m more worried about my life than my name. Besides, what I’m about to tell you is bigger than one murder.”

 
    17
    “A couple of weeks ago, Ron and I were in Haiti,” she said. “He was part of a team accompanying an aid shipment of Soyagene, Energene’s new drought-resistant GMO soybean. It’s brand new. The approval doesn’t even take effect until next week. You know what GMOs are, right? Genetically modified organisms?”
    I smiled. “Yes, I’m familiar with them.”
    “Right. Of course you are. Anyway, Haiti’s had this terrible drought, so someone at Energene thought it would be a good idea to send