Read Online Kiss Her Goodbye (A Thriller) by Robert Gregory Browne - Free Book Online Page B

Probably felt it stronger than all of them combined. But his only solution to the problem was to keep going, keep working, keep waiting for something to break.
     Gunderson was still in town, he was sure of it. Sooner or later the bastard would have to show himself, and Donovan would be there, the full force of the attorney general and United States Treasury behind him.
     He and A.J. exited the elevator and crossed the command center toward Donovan’s office. A.J. made an abrupt turn, heading for the break room. He still looked jittery. “You want coffee? I brewed up something special.”
     “Maybe you should lay off a little.”
     “Lay off? I’m two cups shy of my quota. You want one or not?”
     “No thanks,” Donovan told him. “I’m trying to cut down.”
     “Jesus, Jack. No booze, no cigarettes, now you’re turning your back on the almighty java bean? What exactly do you do for fun?”
     Donovan tossed him the tagged and bagged MP5, wondering himself what the answer to the question was. After twenty years in law enforcement, he supposed it hadn’t changed.
     “Chase bad guys,” he said.
     

14
     
    S TOP! STOP THE bus!”
     When he heard the shout, Lavare Singleton’s attention snapped to his rearview mirror. Near the back of the bus, a girl stood at her seat, a look of pure panic in her big blue eyes. One of the little cuties from Bellanova Prep.
     Come on, kid. Maneuvering a ten-ton hunk of steel through afternoon traffic is tough enough without you giving me grief.
     Chances were pretty good her dilemma wasn’t much more urgent than a forgotten history book. These kids got rattled over the dumbest stuff.
     “What’s the problem?” Lavare sighed, not bothering to hide his irritation.
     “You have to stop, call the police,” blue eyes said. “I think …” She paused and looked around. Everybody on the bus was staring at her. “I think I’m being followed.”
     Oh, for criminy sake, Lavare thought. You’re on a bus, you little twit. Who the hell could be following you? The two blond chipmunks on the seat behind you?
     Lavare kept his foot steady on the accelerator, not about to surrender to her demand. “I’m sorry, miss, you’ll have to sit down. I’ll let you off at the next stop.”
     But blue eyes didn’t sit down. “Listen, you jerk. You think I’m making this up?”
     Lavare scowled. Jerk, huh? Little bitch.
     “There’s a guy driving next to the bus,” she said. “He keeps looking at me. I’ve seen him before. I think he may be stalking me.”
     “Look,” Lavare said, “just sit your butt down and we’ll take care of it at the next stop.”
     Blue eyes continued to protest. She was babbling on about this imaginary stalker being some kind of fugitive, when a maroon Suburban cut in front of Lavare and screeched to a halt.
     Son of a bitch.
     Lavare stiffened and shifted his foot to the brake pedal. The bus yanked to a stop, air brakes hissing. His passengers reacted audibly, and blue eyes nearly toppled over into the next seat.
     A few of her classmates giggled.
     The Suburban sat in the middle of traffic, blocking Lavare’s path. What the hell was this all about?
     He angrily slid the side window open and leaned out. “Hey, fool, you wanna move that piece of tin before I mow it down?”
     More giggles rose behind him. At least somebody was having a good time.
     The Suburban didn’t budge. Instead, the driver’s door flew open and a guy with a ponytail climbed out.
     Uh-oh, Lavare thought. Road rage alert.
     Only he had no idea what this guy’s beef was. Traffic was bad, sure, but he hadn’t cut anybody off for at least half an hour.
     Not that it mattered. It was Lavare’s experience that these nut bags didn’t need much provocation. Their whole day was centered on confrontation, the more the better.
     If Lavare had it his way, he’d be happy to oblige.
     Unfortunately, CTA policy made it clear that in tense traffic situations an