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Authors: David Brookover
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Jay added.
“Right.” Blossom looked at him suspiciously. “What’s going through that sick mind of yours?”
He grinned. “I say that there is only one way to prove who’s right and who’s out to lunch.”
Her bloodshot eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t!”
“Hell yes, I would. I think I’ll conduct a little scientific test.”
“That’s a horrible idea.”
“Thank you.”
“Inhumane!”
“It’s all for science.” He stroked his chin. “Now I need a lab rat.”
“Who?” she whispered, afraid he was going to name her.
“It would only be fitting to let Lonny sample some of his precious aged wine.”
“You’d test it on one of your own friends?”
His mouth curled into a cruel smile. “Just watch me.”
8
N
eo arrived at the Pirate Cove Motel in his rental Excursion just before 5:00 p.m. that day. He was decked-out in a wildly colored tropical shirt, white baggy slacks and brown leather sandals. His gun holster hung from his hip, and his FBI picture identification was clenched in his left hand. He strode into the motel lobby, flashed his identification at the desk clerk and asked for the room number where the kidnapping had occurred.
The large Orion Sector agent was an intimidating sight and the young woman quickly complied.
“Room 214,” she said and managed a tenuous grin. “There’s an elevator through the glass doors to your right.”
“Thanks.”
When Neo arrived at room 214, the door was open and there were still a few FBI agents milling about the room. One of them turned and scowled.
“You’d think Rance could’ve chosen a better agent to investigate this kidnapping,” Crow quipped outside the bedroom doorway.
“There’s none better, my man,” Neo replied with a slight grin.
Crow shook his hand. “I suppose that because this case involves a minority citizen, Rance was forced to send a minority agent to investigate.”
“To be politically correct, of course,” Neo added. “Why don’t you just admit that you’re pissed because Rance didn’t send Nick?”
“That has-been,” Crow kidded. “But seriously, why didn’t the great white hunter poke his nose into this mess?”
“Rance ordered him to stay put in Washington and take the lead on the Tampa terrorist threat. Believe me, he wanted to be here in the worst way.”
“What Tampa terrorist threat?”
“I forgot you’ve been a beach bum this past week. I’ll fill you in later over a few brewskies. Let’s concentrate on your niece’s kidnapping for now,” Neo replied.
Crow nodded. “Good idea. Let me lay out the facts for you, but I warn you there aren’t many.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“Three armed men gained access to the kids’ room without breaking in. Either Blossom and Clay knew the kidnappers or the men posed as maintenance workers –or something like that. In either case, one of them opened the room door which allowed the three kidnappers to charge inside.”
“Three?”
“Yeah. An old man down the hall heard a single gunshot and observed two white men and an Indian leaving this room, brandishing guns and hauling Blossom along with them. He watched them drive away in a tan Explorer, but the license plate was smeared with mud.”
“Figures. Did the old man call 911?”
“No. Unfortunately, he called the front desk to report the shooting and a possible kidnapping. The day manager took his own sweet time getting up here to check out the old man’s story. That’s when he found Blossom’s boyfriend, Clay Corey, lying on the floor in a pool of blood and near death. Finally the manager called 911.”
“How much time elapsed from the shots to the law arriving?”
“I’d say about thirty-five minutes.”
“Jesus!” Neo doubled his fists. “The kidnappers’ trail was ice cold by then.”
“You’re telling me, NFL man.”
“Any clues to the kidnappers’ identities?”
“That’s what these two lab boys from the Tampa bureau are doing here.”
“Searching
“Right.” Blossom looked at him suspiciously. “What’s going through that sick mind of yours?”
He grinned. “I say that there is only one way to prove who’s right and who’s out to lunch.”
Her bloodshot eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t!”
“Hell yes, I would. I think I’ll conduct a little scientific test.”
“That’s a horrible idea.”
“Thank you.”
“Inhumane!”
“It’s all for science.” He stroked his chin. “Now I need a lab rat.”
“Who?” she whispered, afraid he was going to name her.
“It would only be fitting to let Lonny sample some of his precious aged wine.”
“You’d test it on one of your own friends?”
His mouth curled into a cruel smile. “Just watch me.”
8
N
eo arrived at the Pirate Cove Motel in his rental Excursion just before 5:00 p.m. that day. He was decked-out in a wildly colored tropical shirt, white baggy slacks and brown leather sandals. His gun holster hung from his hip, and his FBI picture identification was clenched in his left hand. He strode into the motel lobby, flashed his identification at the desk clerk and asked for the room number where the kidnapping had occurred.
The large Orion Sector agent was an intimidating sight and the young woman quickly complied.
“Room 214,” she said and managed a tenuous grin. “There’s an elevator through the glass doors to your right.”
“Thanks.”
When Neo arrived at room 214, the door was open and there were still a few FBI agents milling about the room. One of them turned and scowled.
“You’d think Rance could’ve chosen a better agent to investigate this kidnapping,” Crow quipped outside the bedroom doorway.
“There’s none better, my man,” Neo replied with a slight grin.
Crow shook his hand. “I suppose that because this case involves a minority citizen, Rance was forced to send a minority agent to investigate.”
“To be politically correct, of course,” Neo added. “Why don’t you just admit that you’re pissed because Rance didn’t send Nick?”
“That has-been,” Crow kidded. “But seriously, why didn’t the great white hunter poke his nose into this mess?”
“Rance ordered him to stay put in Washington and take the lead on the Tampa terrorist threat. Believe me, he wanted to be here in the worst way.”
“What Tampa terrorist threat?”
“I forgot you’ve been a beach bum this past week. I’ll fill you in later over a few brewskies. Let’s concentrate on your niece’s kidnapping for now,” Neo replied.
Crow nodded. “Good idea. Let me lay out the facts for you, but I warn you there aren’t many.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“Three armed men gained access to the kids’ room without breaking in. Either Blossom and Clay knew the kidnappers or the men posed as maintenance workers –or something like that. In either case, one of them opened the room door which allowed the three kidnappers to charge inside.”
“Three?”
“Yeah. An old man down the hall heard a single gunshot and observed two white men and an Indian leaving this room, brandishing guns and hauling Blossom along with them. He watched them drive away in a tan Explorer, but the license plate was smeared with mud.”
“Figures. Did the old man call 911?”
“No. Unfortunately, he called the front desk to report the shooting and a possible kidnapping. The day manager took his own sweet time getting up here to check out the old man’s story. That’s when he found Blossom’s boyfriend, Clay Corey, lying on the floor in a pool of blood and near death. Finally the manager called 911.”
“How much time elapsed from the shots to the law arriving?”
“I’d say about thirty-five minutes.”
“Jesus!” Neo doubled his fists. “The kidnappers’ trail was ice cold by then.”
“You’re telling me, NFL man.”
“Any clues to the kidnappers’ identities?”
“That’s what these two lab boys from the Tampa bureau are doing here.”
“Searching
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