Read Online Running Dark by Jamie Freveletti - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jamie Freveletti
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searching for the word.
“Weak?”
She laughed. “Unhealthy. You’re such a fitness freak.”
“Thank you,” Banner said.
She wagged a finger at him. “Rigid self-control is not always a good thing. Everyone needs a vice, no matter how minor.”
Banner jerked his head toward the stairs, and they both started up. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Let’s bring Caldridge in. I don’t like what’s happening here.”
Banner held the door for Stromeyer. “What do you think is happening?”
“I think someone’s after us all.”
11
KARL TARRANT WALKED INTO A SMALL PATHWAY BETWEEN TWO ramshackle houses close to Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. It was eleven o’clock at night, and the working crowd, what little existed in this neighborhood, was long gone. The seasonal spring day had faded into a crisp evening. Cars whizzed down the street, each one hitting a metal square in the middle that covered a pothole. The repeated clanging sound frayed Tarrant’s already jangled nerves. His teeth chattered in response to a chill that was not from the night air but from within. He hadn’t had a hit in over thirty-six hours. His hands shook and his head ached as he waited for the one thing that would make all his pains go away.
The African in the overcoat strolled toward him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Tarrant felt a mixture of relief and disgust. Relief because his physical troubles were at an end, disgust because the man had botched the job Tarrant had hired him to do. The man stopped before him.
“Here.” He handed Tarrant a bottle marked IBUPROFEN . The bottle actually contained black-market OxyContin.
Tarrant was outraged. “One bottle? That’s it? What the hell am I going to do with one bottle, eh? Won’t last a week.”
“Relax. I put ten more in a bag and left them in our usual spot. I just figured you’d be hurting by now and thought I’d bring you some relief.”
Tarrant snorted. He shook out two capsules and swallowed them. They stuck a little on the way down, but he didn’t care. He neededthem, not water. “Glad you’re so thoughtful. I only wish you’d done what I asked you to do.”
The African shrugged. “We got her with the pen, didn’t we?”
“What about the bomb? Who the hell did that?”
The man grinned. “I set that up. A little one, really. Took out the area around the track. Was a well-controlled explosion. I am good.” The man’s white teeth glowed against his dark skin, and his eyes gleamed with the touch of madness that afflicted all true arsonists. Tarrant thought killing the guy wouldn’t have been the worst thing that could happen, except for the fact that he’d have to find another dealer.
“I don’t know how a simple stick could turn into such a disaster. We could have stuck her anywhere,” he said.
“But now they think it’s tied to the bombing. Worked out well, don’t you think?”
A man emerged from the shadows thrown by the trees lining the sidewalk. Streetlight beams traversed his body at an angle from shoulder to ankle, illuminating the muted silk tie, soft blue shirt, and dark suit that looked custom. Tarrant noticed that the African quieted in respect as the man approached. The newcomer stopped just short of the pathway’s entrance, his face shrouded in the shadow of an overhanging eave. Tarrant felt his stomach turn. He thought the nickname of Vulture fit the man’s thin, hardened features. The Vulture paid handsomely, but Tarrant detested him. He was evil incarnate.
“It did work well. I have to compliment you.” The European-accented voice held no trace of sarcasm. The African exhaled softly, as if he’d been holding his breath. The Vulture turned to Tarrant. “And we could not stick her anywhere. It had to be at the peak of the race in order to assess the chemical’s effect on the human body during extreme exertion. A little human clinical trial minus the federal oversight. And what about the chemical you love so much? I
“Weak?”
She laughed. “Unhealthy. You’re such a fitness freak.”
“Thank you,” Banner said.
She wagged a finger at him. “Rigid self-control is not always a good thing. Everyone needs a vice, no matter how minor.”
Banner jerked his head toward the stairs, and they both started up. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Let’s bring Caldridge in. I don’t like what’s happening here.”
Banner held the door for Stromeyer. “What do you think is happening?”
“I think someone’s after us all.”
11
KARL TARRANT WALKED INTO A SMALL PATHWAY BETWEEN TWO ramshackle houses close to Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. It was eleven o’clock at night, and the working crowd, what little existed in this neighborhood, was long gone. The seasonal spring day had faded into a crisp evening. Cars whizzed down the street, each one hitting a metal square in the middle that covered a pothole. The repeated clanging sound frayed Tarrant’s already jangled nerves. His teeth chattered in response to a chill that was not from the night air but from within. He hadn’t had a hit in over thirty-six hours. His hands shook and his head ached as he waited for the one thing that would make all his pains go away.
The African in the overcoat strolled toward him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Tarrant felt a mixture of relief and disgust. Relief because his physical troubles were at an end, disgust because the man had botched the job Tarrant had hired him to do. The man stopped before him.
“Here.” He handed Tarrant a bottle marked IBUPROFEN . The bottle actually contained black-market OxyContin.
Tarrant was outraged. “One bottle? That’s it? What the hell am I going to do with one bottle, eh? Won’t last a week.”
“Relax. I put ten more in a bag and left them in our usual spot. I just figured you’d be hurting by now and thought I’d bring you some relief.”
Tarrant snorted. He shook out two capsules and swallowed them. They stuck a little on the way down, but he didn’t care. He neededthem, not water. “Glad you’re so thoughtful. I only wish you’d done what I asked you to do.”
The African shrugged. “We got her with the pen, didn’t we?”
“What about the bomb? Who the hell did that?”
The man grinned. “I set that up. A little one, really. Took out the area around the track. Was a well-controlled explosion. I am good.” The man’s white teeth glowed against his dark skin, and his eyes gleamed with the touch of madness that afflicted all true arsonists. Tarrant thought killing the guy wouldn’t have been the worst thing that could happen, except for the fact that he’d have to find another dealer.
“I don’t know how a simple stick could turn into such a disaster. We could have stuck her anywhere,” he said.
“But now they think it’s tied to the bombing. Worked out well, don’t you think?”
A man emerged from the shadows thrown by the trees lining the sidewalk. Streetlight beams traversed his body at an angle from shoulder to ankle, illuminating the muted silk tie, soft blue shirt, and dark suit that looked custom. Tarrant noticed that the African quieted in respect as the man approached. The newcomer stopped just short of the pathway’s entrance, his face shrouded in the shadow of an overhanging eave. Tarrant felt his stomach turn. He thought the nickname of Vulture fit the man’s thin, hardened features. The Vulture paid handsomely, but Tarrant detested him. He was evil incarnate.
“It did work well. I have to compliment you.” The European-accented voice held no trace of sarcasm. The African exhaled softly, as if he’d been holding his breath. The Vulture turned to Tarrant. “And we could not stick her anywhere. It had to be at the peak of the race in order to assess the chemical’s effect on the human body during extreme exertion. A little human clinical trial minus the federal oversight. And what about the chemical you love so much? I
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