Read Online Death of an Immortal by Duncan McGeary - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Duncan McGeary
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discarded the idea. It was ridiculous to believe that the guy was going to hand over money to a girl he’d never met.
No, this was a cold-blooded murderer, and he was trying to entice Sylvie into his trap.
Carlan decided he couldn’t wait until tomorrow to take this “Jonathan Evers” down. He’d track down Captain Anderson on his day off, call in his favor. He had been to his superior’s house once for a Halloween party; it was somewhere in the lower West Hills, on a steep road––Roanoke Avenue, that was the name of the street. He’d get an arrest warrant for the man in Room 23 of the Badlands Motel and search the room for evidence.
Even if he couldn’t make the charges stick, he could at least warn the guy away from Sylvie. The Hardaways didn’t know what a good friend they had in him.
He’d lost Jamie, but he wasn’t going to lose Sylvie.
Chapter 12
Terrill arrived at the Black Bear restaurant a few minutes late. The skies had cleared in the late afternoon and he’d had to wait for the sun to sink behind the Cascade Mountains before venturing out.
He’d thought all day about how much to give to Sylvie. Too much money and she might wonder: too little, and she might just spend it all on other things. He decided on an amount and wrote out a check with the Prestigious Insurance heading. If it turned out not to be enough, he could always send more later.
Chainsaw carvings of black bears surrounded the restaurant, and paw prints were stenciled onto the sidewalk. The entrance was enclosed within a gift shop selling kitschy plates and statues. It was dinnertime, and the place was packed.
Sylvie was talking to some friends near the front counter, still wearing her waitress smock. She saw Terrill and waved. She finished her conversation and went into the back, emerging seconds later as a civilian.
She nodded toward the inside of the restaurant and led him to a small table in the corner, near the swinging doors to the kitchen.
“You hungry?” she asked. “We make some pretty good hamburgers here.”
“No,” he said. He wanted to hand the check over as soon as possible. He wanted to get out of this High Desert land, with its bright sun and scant shade. He needed to get back to a city, where he could blend in, where his behavior wouldn’t be observed by the same people every day. The local butcher was already looking at him askance, and if he stayed much longer, he’d have to track down another source for raw meat.
Terrill handed over the check.
Sylvie didn’t look at it. She put it face down on the table and stared at him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? I’m just delivering an insurance settlement.”
“Why are you delivering it? I wouldn’t have even known about it until you wrote me a letter. If you’d put up enough roadblocks, I probably wouldn’t have even fought it. You could have sent it looking like junk mail and I would’ve thrown it away. Why didn’t you?”
“At Prestigious Insurance, we don’t do things that way.”
“That’s another thing. I spent half an hour on Google looking for a Prestigious Insurance and couldn’t find it.”
“We fly under the radar,” he said.
“No kidding. But why? Why would an insurance company not want to be known?”
Terrill took a drink of water, trying to cover up his consternation. Why the hell was she questioning her windfall?
The swinging doors opened and a waitress came out, trying to balance an overloaded tray. She didn’t quite make it out the door; one of the plates landed upside down, mashed potatoes squirting out onto Terrill’s shoes.
There was some sarcastic clapping, but Terrill rose and reassured the young waitress that it was all right, waving her away from wiping off his shoes.
“That was nice of you,” Sylvie said after the flustered waitress had left. “She’s new. You could’ve really wrecked her confidence if you’d made a scene.” She was looking at him with raw appraisal,
No, this was a cold-blooded murderer, and he was trying to entice Sylvie into his trap.
Carlan decided he couldn’t wait until tomorrow to take this “Jonathan Evers” down. He’d track down Captain Anderson on his day off, call in his favor. He had been to his superior’s house once for a Halloween party; it was somewhere in the lower West Hills, on a steep road––Roanoke Avenue, that was the name of the street. He’d get an arrest warrant for the man in Room 23 of the Badlands Motel and search the room for evidence.
Even if he couldn’t make the charges stick, he could at least warn the guy away from Sylvie. The Hardaways didn’t know what a good friend they had in him.
He’d lost Jamie, but he wasn’t going to lose Sylvie.
Chapter 12
Terrill arrived at the Black Bear restaurant a few minutes late. The skies had cleared in the late afternoon and he’d had to wait for the sun to sink behind the Cascade Mountains before venturing out.
He’d thought all day about how much to give to Sylvie. Too much money and she might wonder: too little, and she might just spend it all on other things. He decided on an amount and wrote out a check with the Prestigious Insurance heading. If it turned out not to be enough, he could always send more later.
Chainsaw carvings of black bears surrounded the restaurant, and paw prints were stenciled onto the sidewalk. The entrance was enclosed within a gift shop selling kitschy plates and statues. It was dinnertime, and the place was packed.
Sylvie was talking to some friends near the front counter, still wearing her waitress smock. She saw Terrill and waved. She finished her conversation and went into the back, emerging seconds later as a civilian.
She nodded toward the inside of the restaurant and led him to a small table in the corner, near the swinging doors to the kitchen.
“You hungry?” she asked. “We make some pretty good hamburgers here.”
“No,” he said. He wanted to hand the check over as soon as possible. He wanted to get out of this High Desert land, with its bright sun and scant shade. He needed to get back to a city, where he could blend in, where his behavior wouldn’t be observed by the same people every day. The local butcher was already looking at him askance, and if he stayed much longer, he’d have to track down another source for raw meat.
Terrill handed over the check.
Sylvie didn’t look at it. She put it face down on the table and stared at him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? I’m just delivering an insurance settlement.”
“Why are you delivering it? I wouldn’t have even known about it until you wrote me a letter. If you’d put up enough roadblocks, I probably wouldn’t have even fought it. You could have sent it looking like junk mail and I would’ve thrown it away. Why didn’t you?”
“At Prestigious Insurance, we don’t do things that way.”
“That’s another thing. I spent half an hour on Google looking for a Prestigious Insurance and couldn’t find it.”
“We fly under the radar,” he said.
“No kidding. But why? Why would an insurance company not want to be known?”
Terrill took a drink of water, trying to cover up his consternation. Why the hell was she questioning her windfall?
The swinging doors opened and a waitress came out, trying to balance an overloaded tray. She didn’t quite make it out the door; one of the plates landed upside down, mashed potatoes squirting out onto Terrill’s shoes.
There was some sarcastic clapping, but Terrill rose and reassured the young waitress that it was all right, waving her away from wiping off his shoes.
“That was nice of you,” Sylvie said after the flustered waitress had left. “She’s new. You could’ve really wrecked her confidence if you’d made a scene.” She was looking at him with raw appraisal,
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