Lethal Misconduct by C. G. Cooper Read Free Book Online Page B

stainless steel trashcan.
    “Thank you again for your assistance, Mr. Turnberry. We’ll be on our way.”
    The two men in suits walked to the door, Vespers leading. Just before he exited, Cromwell turned back to Brad, whose head was resting on his soiled desk.
    “I suggest you find some new friends, Mr. Turnberry. As far as you’re concerned, Hunter Price no longer exists.”
     
    +++
     
    After regaining a measure of his composure, and changing into a set of seldom used workout gear he kept in his office, Brad Turnberry told his boss that he’d taken care of the situation with the Feds, but was going to take an early lunch.
    “Can I join you? My treat. I’m finally getting my appetite back.”
    Brad did his best to look his friend in the eye and smile. “Mind if I take a rain check? I’ve gotta run home and clean up the place before Viv gets back,” said Brad.
    His boss chuckled and waved goodbye as Brad rushed to leave, feeling another vomit attack coming.
    By the time he pulled into his garage, his stomach and heartbeat had settled. While the events of the morning hadn’t been pleasant, at least the drama with Hunter was over. Sure they were friends, but he’d been in one helluva spot. Brad felt lucky that the two Feds hadn’t taken his securities license, or worse, thrown him in federal prison. He knew what could happen to bankers who knowingly dealt with fugitives, and it was never pretty. There’d been a handful of acquaintances who’d shared that fate in the wake of the Wall Street debacle not a decade earlier.
    No, it was better that it was over. He’d move on and Hunter would have to take care of himself. Hell, the guy came from money. He had to have more somewhere. Sure, the millions Brad had transferred to the account that Cromwell guy gave him would hurt, but Hunter was a smart guy, a doctor no less.
    That’s what Brad told himself as he entered his house, desperately needing a second shower, his body sticky with sweat and piss. He was so consumed with his thoughts that he didn’t notice the shadow descend like a wraith, a strong arm wrapping around Brad’s neck, muscles clamping down on his windpipe.
    Malik Vespers didn’t let go, not through the thrashing or the release of Brad’s bowels. One minute, then two. Once he was sure Brad was dead, Vespers dragged the body to the tan microsuede couch, propping Brad up in the corner. A moment later he was back with a half-smoked cigar, its end still burning, and two liquor bottles, one a bottle of Bacardi 151 and the other a bottle of Everclear grain alcohol.
    Vespers placed the cigar in Brad’s left hand and poured the equivalent of a couple shots down the cadaver’s throat. Then, after making sure the cigar was still lit and had already burned a portion of skin on Brad’s hand, Vespers poured a liberal amount of both bottles over the body and onto the couch and floor. With a lighter, he lit the flammable liquids and stepped back as the blue flames took, quickly engulfing Brad and the couch.
    Normally Vespers would have worried about the trace evidence, but an advance team had already disabled the smoke detectors in the home, simply taking out the batteries. It was common for lazy homeowners to pull out a battery from a beeping alarm and forget to replace it. By the time the fire department arrived, Brad and his living room would be charred to a crisp.
    Happy with his handiwork, Malik Vespers exited through the back door, walked around the house, and entered the waiting black tinted SUV.
    “Done?” asked Col. Cromwell from the back seat.
    Vespers nodded, once again happy that he could please his master.
     

    Chapter 11
    Charlottesville, Virginia
    7:20pm, April 5 th
     
    The War Room hummed with activity. Cal’s men had separated into groups, happy to be working on something, even if it did sound crazy. Luckily, they’d installed upgraded central air ducts in the workspace or else it might’ve been stifling.
    Cal and Daniel were sitting