Read Online Mission Canyon by Meg Gardiner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meg Gardiner
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‘‘Isaac—’’
Chris said, ‘‘Evan.’’ He was writing on a business card. ‘‘This is the name of someone at Victims’ Assistance. Encourage Adam to call her.’’
"Right."
‘‘This is only the start of a long, hard process. He needs to get a grip.’’ He looked at Jesse. ‘‘How about him? He’s going to have to testify.’’
‘‘Don’t worry about Jesse,’’ I said, and my mind tripped over the word. Testify .
Adam was gesturing, arms wide. His voice bounced off the walls. Then the reporters came at them, calling out questions.
‘‘Mr. Sandoval, what do you think of Brand’s arrest?’’
‘‘How does it feel to see your brother’s alleged killer face-to-face?’’
Adam froze. Jesse swiveled, putting himself between them.
‘‘Is justice finally being served?’’
‘‘Any comment on today’s proceedings?’’
Jesse said, ‘‘You bet I’ll comment. Just a minute.’’
He looked at me, and I read his eyes: Get Adam out of here. I grabbed Adam’s elbow and hustled him down the stairs. At the bottom he shrugged me off and strode outside as though desperate for oxygen.
He said, ‘‘They’re letting him go. They’re letting the bastard go.’’
His hands were shaking, and I didn’t think from the hangover.
‘‘How can Jesse stay so calm? Comment? I don’t want to comment; I want to stand Brand up against a wall and drive into him with a cement truck.’’
He bent and put his hands on his knees. Immediately he straightened again, hurried toward a trash can, leaned over it, and threw up.
After a moment he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. ‘‘Sorry.’’
I put my hand on his back. He was sweating.
He said, ‘‘Can’t we protest the bail order? If Brand gets out, he’ll disappear.’’
The anguish in his voice helped me make up my mind. ‘‘We can’t keep him in jail. But we can follow him to make sure he doesn’t try to skip town again.’’
He looked at me quizzically before it clicked. ‘‘Yes.’’ Almost instantly he looked lighter. ‘‘Of course. But around the clock? We have to work, and . . .’’ He checked his watch. ‘‘Oh, I have to get to campus; I have a seminar.’’
‘‘Go. I’ll take the first watch.’’
He took both my hands in his. ‘‘Thank you.’’ His eyes were red, his face haggard. ‘‘Thank you.’’
He was halfway down the block when Jesse and Chris came outside. I told them he had gone to the university. Chris looked pensive.
Jesse put on his wraparound sunglasses. ‘‘I told Chris about Isaac’s hassle with Mako over the missing paperwork. And about the blackmail threat on my computer.’’
I said, ‘‘The threat. What if they want to dissuade you from testifying against Brand?’’
They both looked at me. Jesse swore. Chris nodded at police headquarters, across the street from the courthouse. ‘‘Come on back to the station with me.’’
‘‘Give us a minute,’’ I said.
‘‘Sure.’’ He sauntered out of earshot, head down, looking like an absentminded professor lost in thought.
Jesse said, ‘‘You’re going to tail Brand, aren’t you?’’
‘‘Until I’m convinced he isn’t hitting the road.’’
‘‘Great. I’ll join you as soon as I can.’’ He looked toward the courthouse. ‘‘It will be hours before he posts bond. In the meantime, they’ll probably take him back to the county jail.’’
‘‘So I’ll get a cup of coffee, and watch to see if the deputies put him back on the bus with the chain gang.’’
He nodded at Chris, idling up the street. ‘‘Just remember, his desk overlooks the courthouse. Stay out of his line of sight.’’
‘‘I thought he was on our side.’’
"Evan, the only people on our side are us. Count on it."
7
The coffee was a mistake.
I spent the afternoon parked across from the county jail in Goleta, sitting in the backseat of my Explorer, playing office. I caught up on phone calls, dug business receipts
Chris said, ‘‘Evan.’’ He was writing on a business card. ‘‘This is the name of someone at Victims’ Assistance. Encourage Adam to call her.’’
"Right."
‘‘This is only the start of a long, hard process. He needs to get a grip.’’ He looked at Jesse. ‘‘How about him? He’s going to have to testify.’’
‘‘Don’t worry about Jesse,’’ I said, and my mind tripped over the word. Testify .
Adam was gesturing, arms wide. His voice bounced off the walls. Then the reporters came at them, calling out questions.
‘‘Mr. Sandoval, what do you think of Brand’s arrest?’’
‘‘How does it feel to see your brother’s alleged killer face-to-face?’’
Adam froze. Jesse swiveled, putting himself between them.
‘‘Is justice finally being served?’’
‘‘Any comment on today’s proceedings?’’
Jesse said, ‘‘You bet I’ll comment. Just a minute.’’
He looked at me, and I read his eyes: Get Adam out of here. I grabbed Adam’s elbow and hustled him down the stairs. At the bottom he shrugged me off and strode outside as though desperate for oxygen.
He said, ‘‘They’re letting him go. They’re letting the bastard go.’’
His hands were shaking, and I didn’t think from the hangover.
‘‘How can Jesse stay so calm? Comment? I don’t want to comment; I want to stand Brand up against a wall and drive into him with a cement truck.’’
He bent and put his hands on his knees. Immediately he straightened again, hurried toward a trash can, leaned over it, and threw up.
After a moment he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. ‘‘Sorry.’’
I put my hand on his back. He was sweating.
He said, ‘‘Can’t we protest the bail order? If Brand gets out, he’ll disappear.’’
The anguish in his voice helped me make up my mind. ‘‘We can’t keep him in jail. But we can follow him to make sure he doesn’t try to skip town again.’’
He looked at me quizzically before it clicked. ‘‘Yes.’’ Almost instantly he looked lighter. ‘‘Of course. But around the clock? We have to work, and . . .’’ He checked his watch. ‘‘Oh, I have to get to campus; I have a seminar.’’
‘‘Go. I’ll take the first watch.’’
He took both my hands in his. ‘‘Thank you.’’ His eyes were red, his face haggard. ‘‘Thank you.’’
He was halfway down the block when Jesse and Chris came outside. I told them he had gone to the university. Chris looked pensive.
Jesse put on his wraparound sunglasses. ‘‘I told Chris about Isaac’s hassle with Mako over the missing paperwork. And about the blackmail threat on my computer.’’
I said, ‘‘The threat. What if they want to dissuade you from testifying against Brand?’’
They both looked at me. Jesse swore. Chris nodded at police headquarters, across the street from the courthouse. ‘‘Come on back to the station with me.’’
‘‘Give us a minute,’’ I said.
‘‘Sure.’’ He sauntered out of earshot, head down, looking like an absentminded professor lost in thought.
Jesse said, ‘‘You’re going to tail Brand, aren’t you?’’
‘‘Until I’m convinced he isn’t hitting the road.’’
‘‘Great. I’ll join you as soon as I can.’’ He looked toward the courthouse. ‘‘It will be hours before he posts bond. In the meantime, they’ll probably take him back to the county jail.’’
‘‘So I’ll get a cup of coffee, and watch to see if the deputies put him back on the bus with the chain gang.’’
He nodded at Chris, idling up the street. ‘‘Just remember, his desk overlooks the courthouse. Stay out of his line of sight.’’
‘‘I thought he was on our side.’’
"Evan, the only people on our side are us. Count on it."
7
The coffee was a mistake.
I spent the afternoon parked across from the county jail in Goleta, sitting in the backseat of my Explorer, playing office. I caught up on phone calls, dug business receipts
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