Edge by Jeffery Deaver Read Free Book Online Page A

who’s after you, it’s a lifter. You ever heard that term?”
    â€œI think. An interrogator, right? A pro.”
    Close enough. I nodded. “Now, a hitter’s one thing. Mistake or not, you’d be the only one at risk. But a lifter . . . he’ll target your family, anything to get an edge on you—some leverage to force you to tell him what he wants. By the time he realizes it’s a mistake, someone close to you could be seriously hurt. Or worse.”
    Considering my words. “Who is he?”
    â€œHis name’s Henry Loving.”
    â€œFormer military? Special ops?”
    â€œNo. Civilian.”
    â€œIn a gang? Organized crime?”
    â€œNot that we could find.”
    In fact, we didn’t know much about Henry Loving, other than he’d been born in northern Virginia,left home in his late teens and had maintained little contact with most of his family. His school records were missing. The last time he’d been arrested was when the sentence involved juvenile detention. A week after he was released the magistrate in the case quit the bench for reasons unknown and left the area. It might have been a coincidence. But I, for one, didn’t think so. Loving’s court and police files vanished at the same time. He worked hard to hide his roots and protect his anonymity.
    I looked out the window once more. Then, after a brief conspiratorial pause and a glance into the still-empty hall, I continued, speaking even more softly, “But there’s something else I have to say. This is completely between us?”
    He gripped the coffee he’d lost his taste for.
    I continued, “Henry Loving has successfully kidnapped at least a dozen principals to interrogate them. Those are just the cases we know about. He’s responsible for the deaths of a half dozen bystanders too. He’s killed or seriously injured federal agents and local cops.”
    Ryan gave a brief wince.
    â€œI’ve been trying . . . our organization and the Bureau have been trying for years to collar him. So, okay, I’m admitting it: Yes, we’re here to protect you and your family. But you’re a godsend to us, Detective. You’re a decorated cop, somebody who’s familiar with tactical response, with weapons.”
    â€œWell, it’s been a few years.”
    â€œThose skills never go away. Don’t you think? Like riding a bicycle.”
    A modest glance downward. “I do get out to the range every week.”
    â€œThere you go.” I could see a change in his dark eyes. A bit of fire in them. “I’m asking for your help in getting this guy. But we can’t do it here. Not in this house. Too dangerous for you and your family, too dangerous for your neighbors.”
    He tapped his pistol. “I’m loaded with Glasers.”
    Safety bullets. Powerful rounds that can kill, but they won’t penetrate Sheetrock and injure bystanders. They’re called suburb slugs.
    â€œBut Loving won’t be. He’ll come in with M4s or MP-5s. It’ll be carnage. There will be collateral damage.”
    He was considering all that I’d said. His eyes took in the dirty dishes, seemed to notice them for the first time. “What’re you suggesting?”
    â€œYou, another officer and I’ll form the guard detail. We’ll get you and your family into a safe house that’ll give us a defensive advantage over Loving. My people and the Bureau’ll try to take him on the street or his hidey-hole, if they can find him. But if he gets through, and he could, I’ll need you. I have a safe house in mind that’ll be perfect.” I was speaking very softly now, making clear that what I was asking was off the record.
    â€œYou sound like you’ve been up against this guy before.”
    I paused. “I have, yes.”
    As he debated, a female voice came from the hallway: “Ry, those men’re still out