Read Online No Returns by Rhonda Pollero - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rhonda Pollero
Tags: Fiction
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month for Travis.”
“Any relatives who might want to see the Johnson kid rot in jail?”
“Can we swing by my office?”
“Sure. I often take detours when I’m chasing down a guy with a propensity to shoot first.” He smiled and I almost melted into the seat.
“It’s on the way. Besides, we can research Gerald Cavanaugh. We didn’t get around to that last night. And I have to pick up my mother’s computer.”
When Liam pulled into the parking lot I saw Vain Dane’s hummer in its spot. Maybe I could get some brownie points for coming in on Saturday. Vain Dane didn’t have to know it was for personal business.
I unlocked the door with my key and we went to my office. I pressed the button to turn on the coffee maker. The scent of brewing coffee reminded me of my early morning rendezvous with shirtless Deacon.
I wiggled my mouse to bring my computer to life. Liam dragged a chair over and sat next to me as I scanned the Johnson file while my machine woke from hibernation. “There was a brother,” I said as I tapped the page. “Randall Houser.” I typed the name into a basic Google search. There were maybe a dozen items listed.
“Click that one,” Liam said, pointing to the fourth entry.
It was a 1991 newspaper article from the Palm Beach Post praising the sacrifice of local hero Randall Houser. I read a few more lines. “He lost an arm in the first Gulf war.”
“Then he probably isn’t the shooter. Sorry Finley,” he said as he rubbed my back. I was enjoying the sensations inspired when he continued. “I don’t think the Johnson case is the link.”
“Randall could have hired someone.”
“Why bother? He could kill everyone here and Travis would just get another court-appointed attorney. What’s his plan? Murder all the lawyers in Palm Beach County?”
“Then explain to me what Becky has to do with all this?”
“Have the two of you had lunch in a public place lately?”
I nodded. “Day before yesterday. You think sedan guy mistook Becky for Travis’s attorney?”
“I guess it’s possible, but highly unlikely.” He sighed. “Let’s move on to Gerald Cavanaugh.”
I started with a general Google search. I had no clue there were so many Gerald Cavanaughs in the world. I narrowed my search to Geralds in Palm Beach County. Nothing.
I tried just the U.S. but there were too many entries. “Let me try the Social Security records.” I used my password and got into the database. Just over three thousand Gerald Cavanaughs. This was getting frustrating.
Liam gave me a website address. “Try searching local DMV records.”
There were seventeen. We looked at all the photos but nothing rang a bell. Without a date of birth or a Social Security number, I was out of luck. I was about to give up when I thought to try one more angle. I pulled up the Plaintiff-Defendant tables and painstakingly went state by state. I got lucky. “Rhode Island v. Cavanaugh, Gerald.” I pulled up the digest. “Convicted for fraud and theft by deceit in 1983. Did two years of a ten-year sentence.”
“Pull up Rhode Island DMV,” Liam said.
“Three Gerald Cavanaughs.”
I clicked on the first one and the photo was of a teenager. The license had been issued just a few months ago. “Not him.” The second one was a man in his mid-forties. “Possible.” He could be the holder of the email account. The third one had a huge red stamp across the photo obstructing the picture that read ‘Expired.’ “Look at the DOB,” I said. “He’s an old guy. Could be the defendant in the case, though. The years are right. But I don’t see grandpa setting up an email account for blackmail.” The last photo was of a guy in his twenties. I printed out the two possibles. “Maybe my mother or Deacon will recognize him.”
“Speaking of recognizing, time to see if Steven Buckner is back at his apartment.” Liam stood up. “Why don’t you stay here? I won’t be long.”
“No such luck. I’m coming,
“Any relatives who might want to see the Johnson kid rot in jail?”
“Can we swing by my office?”
“Sure. I often take detours when I’m chasing down a guy with a propensity to shoot first.” He smiled and I almost melted into the seat.
“It’s on the way. Besides, we can research Gerald Cavanaugh. We didn’t get around to that last night. And I have to pick up my mother’s computer.”
When Liam pulled into the parking lot I saw Vain Dane’s hummer in its spot. Maybe I could get some brownie points for coming in on Saturday. Vain Dane didn’t have to know it was for personal business.
I unlocked the door with my key and we went to my office. I pressed the button to turn on the coffee maker. The scent of brewing coffee reminded me of my early morning rendezvous with shirtless Deacon.
I wiggled my mouse to bring my computer to life. Liam dragged a chair over and sat next to me as I scanned the Johnson file while my machine woke from hibernation. “There was a brother,” I said as I tapped the page. “Randall Houser.” I typed the name into a basic Google search. There were maybe a dozen items listed.
“Click that one,” Liam said, pointing to the fourth entry.
It was a 1991 newspaper article from the Palm Beach Post praising the sacrifice of local hero Randall Houser. I read a few more lines. “He lost an arm in the first Gulf war.”
“Then he probably isn’t the shooter. Sorry Finley,” he said as he rubbed my back. I was enjoying the sensations inspired when he continued. “I don’t think the Johnson case is the link.”
“Randall could have hired someone.”
“Why bother? He could kill everyone here and Travis would just get another court-appointed attorney. What’s his plan? Murder all the lawyers in Palm Beach County?”
“Then explain to me what Becky has to do with all this?”
“Have the two of you had lunch in a public place lately?”
I nodded. “Day before yesterday. You think sedan guy mistook Becky for Travis’s attorney?”
“I guess it’s possible, but highly unlikely.” He sighed. “Let’s move on to Gerald Cavanaugh.”
I started with a general Google search. I had no clue there were so many Gerald Cavanaughs in the world. I narrowed my search to Geralds in Palm Beach County. Nothing.
I tried just the U.S. but there were too many entries. “Let me try the Social Security records.” I used my password and got into the database. Just over three thousand Gerald Cavanaughs. This was getting frustrating.
Liam gave me a website address. “Try searching local DMV records.”
There were seventeen. We looked at all the photos but nothing rang a bell. Without a date of birth or a Social Security number, I was out of luck. I was about to give up when I thought to try one more angle. I pulled up the Plaintiff-Defendant tables and painstakingly went state by state. I got lucky. “Rhode Island v. Cavanaugh, Gerald.” I pulled up the digest. “Convicted for fraud and theft by deceit in 1983. Did two years of a ten-year sentence.”
“Pull up Rhode Island DMV,” Liam said.
“Three Gerald Cavanaughs.”
I clicked on the first one and the photo was of a teenager. The license had been issued just a few months ago. “Not him.” The second one was a man in his mid-forties. “Possible.” He could be the holder of the email account. The third one had a huge red stamp across the photo obstructing the picture that read ‘Expired.’ “Look at the DOB,” I said. “He’s an old guy. Could be the defendant in the case, though. The years are right. But I don’t see grandpa setting up an email account for blackmail.” The last photo was of a guy in his twenties. I printed out the two possibles. “Maybe my mother or Deacon will recognize him.”
“Speaking of recognizing, time to see if Steven Buckner is back at his apartment.” Liam stood up. “Why don’t you stay here? I won’t be long.”
“No such luck. I’m coming,
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