Tormented by Robert J. Crane Read Free Book Online Page B

sign of things to come before I spied the restaurant next door and broke into a run, figuring I’d weather the adverse weather while I fed myself.

5.
Reed
    I listened to the phone ringing through the car’s speakers as I drove up interstate 35E in St. Paul. The low roar of my Dodge Challenger’s engine was sweet music to my ears. A hell of a lot sweeter than the phone ringing, anyway.
    “This is Phillips,” came the answer at the other end of the phone as the ringing ceased with a click.
    “Hey, boss,” I said, glancing over at Augustus in the passenger seat. He was nodding his head along with music I couldn’t hear, staring out the window. The speed limit here was an extremely lame 45, the only place in the entire federal interstate system where it was that low. There was a story behind it, but it was extremely predictable and dealt with local residents who didn’t want an interstate in their back yard. “Got a report for you.”
    “I read the preliminary from the FBI,” Phillips said. He was a relatively straight-to-business guy. “What else do you have?”
    “Just the basics on the suspect, Benjamin Cunningham—”
    “Already got it,” Phillips said. “What’s your next step?”
    “Visiting the suspect’s home,” I said, moving quickly ahead to adapt to our conversation. Sienna had serious problems getting along with Phillips; I found him pretty easy to understand, easy to deal with, too. He wasn’t unreasonable, he just had a mission to get accomplished and a limited tolerance for anything that got in the way. I suspected the reason he and Sienna were always at loggerheads is that they were way, way too similar to work together without bumping skulls. “Word is he lives with his mother. We’re halfway to Roseville now.”
    “Good,” Phillips said. “Keep me apprised of any changes. The FBI issued a BOLO to local law enforcement. Cunningham took his own car out of the garage at the airport.”
    “That could be dangerous,” I said. “A local cop pulling over this guy? Don’t you think that’ll end in fire?”
    “They’re not supposed to pull him over,” Phillips said. “They’re instructed to contact us if they run across him, to keep their eyes open.”
    “Any chance you’ve got Rocha doing his ‘all cameras’ bit on this?” I asked.
    “Rocha’s at Fort Meade for the week,” Phillips said matter-of-factly. “I’ve put in a request with the NSA, haven’t heard back yet. Harper has a bird in the air. If the cops catch Cunningham’s car, we’ll have eyes on it in minutes. Harper’s also got an eye on heat blooms, so if he decides to blow up again, we’ll see it.”
    “Slick,” I said. It was good thinking, really. “I’ll let you know if we get anything from the mother.”
    “Keep your eyes open,” Phillips said, “it’s possible, though unlikely, that this Cunningham will head home at some point.”
    “I’ve got some of our new agents at his work and on the way to stake out the house,” I said with a little pride. Phillips wasn’t the only one that could anticipate and plan ahead. “We’re going to start digging into this guy; figure out who he is and what he wants.”
    “Let me know what you find,” Phillips said. And then he hung up. Like I said, he’s a straightforward guy.
    “Man,” Augustus said, “y’all had a real mutual masturbation circle going on there for a minute. Thought I was going to have to step out of the car and give you some privacy.”
    “Let me tell you something that you probably haven’t picked up from hanging out with Sienna,” I said, a little tightly, “you get no points in this world by being a dick to your boss.” Sienna had proven that, once again, this very week.
    “Hey,” Augustus said, shaking his head, “that’s not exactly something I didn’t already know. I made supervisor in my factory because I knew the value of being the kind of employee the boss wants on his team. But this is different. You got something