Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) by Brett Battles, Robert Gregory Browne Read Free Book Online Page A

tonight and I hate to drink alone.”
    I doubt you do it very often , she almost told him, and while the offer was more than tempting, she shrugged and gestured to their surroundings. “I appreciate the invite, but I’ve got too much to do. Another time?”
    “Of course,” he said, looking a little disappointed, then turned and headed down the steps to his car.

CHAPTER 5

    A LEX WAS BACK in the storage shed when she found it. A rectangular metal case she didn’t remember ever seeing before, despite the fact that at one time or another, she and Danny had been through every inch of this place, dodging lizards and hunting for treasure.
    Ironically, that’s what the case looked like—somebody’s treasure box, complete with a locked clasp, and no bigger than a hardback book. She’d found it inside an unopened cardboard box at the back of the shed, buried beneath a stack of her grandparents’ faded and dog-eared LOOK magazines, as if it had been deliberately placed there in an attempt to hide it from the casual explorer.
    Had her grandfather put it there? One of her parents?
    She could only assume it had been hidden years ago, and that she and Danny had missed it because of their complete lack of interest in the fifties and sixties, the two decades covered by most of the magazines. Faded photos of Sinatra and Kennedy and Audrey Hepburn weren’t exactly top draws for curious kids.  
    Alex turned the treasure box in her hand and the contents rattled.
    Coins? Jewelry?
    She carried it to the workbench, set it down, and took a screwdriver from her father’s tool kit, jamming it into the space behind the clasp. After a single tug, the lock snapped.
    She didn’t lift the lid right away. Instead, she stared at the box, excitement welling up inside her. In that moment she was nine years old again, with Danny beside her, and her mother and father upstairs making lunch or lounging on the patio or playing a spirited game of Shanghai, and all was good in the world.
    All was good.
    She held on to the feeling as long as she could, not opening the box until the sensation passed. When she lifted the lid she found four items inside: a tattered newspaper clipping, a key, a worn 5x8 manila envelope…and a ring.  
    Her mother’s ring.  
    Alex’s throat constricted and tears filled her eyes. She remembered this ring vividly. Her mother had always worn it on her right forefinger, an ornate silver band with a polished turquoise stone from Nishapur. A gift from Alex’s great-grandmother.
    But why was it here? Her mother, an anthropologist, had been killed by a terrorist’s bomb in Lebanon during a research trip. Wrong place, wrong time. She would’ve had this ring with her. Would never have left it behind.
    Had it been recovered from the rubble? From the body itself?
    Apparently so. But why hadn’t Alex known about it?
    She stared at the ring, unable to choke back the tears, remembering the many times she’d sat on her mother’s lap, running her fingers over the smooth stone, wishing it could be hers. Remembering Mom’s promise that one day it would be.
    “It is family tradition, Alexandra. My grandmother had only sons, so she passed it on to me right before she died. And one day it will be your turn to wear it.”
    “I don’t want you to die, Mommy.”
    Her mother had smiled. “Don’t you worry, child. I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time.”
    But only a few years later, she was gone.
    Alex took the ring from the box, held it up for a moment, then slipped it on her right forefinger. The fit was a little snug, but she had no intention of ever taking it off again. The promise had been fulfilled, a thought that brought a whole new wave of tears.
    Wiping them away, she reached into the box again and took out the clipping. It was from a Lebanese newspaper, written in Arabic, the photo showing what was left of the cafe where her mother and two others had been slaughtered.
    Alex studied it a moment, wondering if any of