Read Online The Belial Stone (The Belial Series) by R.D. Brady - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R.D. Brady
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Stewart. But he’s really more of a figurehead. The real power of AFP lies with Senator Robert Kensington from Montana.”
“Okay, but–”
“Hold on, not done yet. Danny also found out AFP has been sponsoring the research of a Dr. Arthur Priddle.”
Jake tried to reign in his frustration. “A medical doctor?”
“That’s just the thing. He’s not a medical doctor. He’s an archaeologist. And he’s also disappeared. He handed in his notice to the University of Saint Paul yesterday unexpectedly and there’s no trace of where he went. And here’s where it gets more interesting: Dr. Priddle’s research partner, Dr. Drew Masters, committed suicide yesterday. Spider senses tingling yet?”
“A little,” Jake admitted. “So if I’ve got this straight, AFP is arranging for undocumented flights at times that coincide with ex-cons going missing, and is also sponsoring this archaeologist who’s disappeared and whose partner just killed himself. That right?”
“You got it.”
“So I guess I'm heading to Saint Paul.”
“Actually, Danny thinks you should head to Syracuse.”
Jake frowned. “Syracuse? What’s the Syracuse connection?”
“Apparently, Dr. Masters sent an email to a criminologist, a Dr. Delaney McPhearson, shortly before he died. The email was then rescinded, a few hours after Dr. Masters was killed.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “And dead guys tend not to do that. Now my spidey senses are really tingling.”
“Good.” Jake could hear the smile in Henry’s voice. “But I think you should get to Dr. McPhearson quickly.”
“Why?”
“She was attacked in her home this morning. And Jake, it was an unusual attack.
“Unusual? How?”
“Apparently Dr. McPhearson is quite a fighter. She shot the assailant twice and stabbed him once. And each time he took a hit, the guy seemed to pop back up like a jack-in-the-box. Sound familiar?”
Jake went still. “Yeah. It does. And it means I need to find Dr. McPhearson as fast as possible.”
CHAPTER 13
Havre, Montana
W hen Tom had been in prison, he’d taken an online Introduction to Psychology course. One of the topics they discussed was Lorenz’s concept of learned helplessness: how people believed that there was nothing they could do to help themselves even when opportunities for betterment arose.
As Tom looked around the enclosure, he thought that prisons and places like this were what Lorenz had been talking about. The inmates outnumbered the guards by forty-to-one, but no one had any thoughts of rebellion. After only a few hours, they had all learned that lesson too well.
The first day, Tom had been in shock. He kept thinking he wasn’t really here, that any moment he was going to open his eyes and wake up. His only awakening had been the realization that whoever set this place up didn’t care who died in the process. He’d helped carry four abused and emaciated bodies into the pit in just the first two days. After that, he’d stopped counting.
Last night, although exhausted, he again hadn’t slept. He kept trying to think of a way to escape. But there were too many guards, too many guns, and nowhere to run to. By dawn, he’d reached an uncomfortable truth: the only way he was getting out of here was as a corpse. His destiny was in that pit outside, with all the others held here.
And it wasn’t just the place that convinced him of that. It was the reality of his life. Who would be looking for him? Who cared enough about whether he lived or died? His Gran cared, but she’d been the last of his family. There were the people from the church. They probably just thought he skipped town. Cleo slipped into his mind. Did she think he’d just left? He’d finally found the right girl and now it was gone. She’d write him off.
An image of Jake appeared in his mind
“Okay, but–”
“Hold on, not done yet. Danny also found out AFP has been sponsoring the research of a Dr. Arthur Priddle.”
Jake tried to reign in his frustration. “A medical doctor?”
“That’s just the thing. He’s not a medical doctor. He’s an archaeologist. And he’s also disappeared. He handed in his notice to the University of Saint Paul yesterday unexpectedly and there’s no trace of where he went. And here’s where it gets more interesting: Dr. Priddle’s research partner, Dr. Drew Masters, committed suicide yesterday. Spider senses tingling yet?”
“A little,” Jake admitted. “So if I’ve got this straight, AFP is arranging for undocumented flights at times that coincide with ex-cons going missing, and is also sponsoring this archaeologist who’s disappeared and whose partner just killed himself. That right?”
“You got it.”
“So I guess I'm heading to Saint Paul.”
“Actually, Danny thinks you should head to Syracuse.”
Jake frowned. “Syracuse? What’s the Syracuse connection?”
“Apparently, Dr. Masters sent an email to a criminologist, a Dr. Delaney McPhearson, shortly before he died. The email was then rescinded, a few hours after Dr. Masters was killed.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “And dead guys tend not to do that. Now my spidey senses are really tingling.”
“Good.” Jake could hear the smile in Henry’s voice. “But I think you should get to Dr. McPhearson quickly.”
“Why?”
“She was attacked in her home this morning. And Jake, it was an unusual attack.
“Unusual? How?”
“Apparently Dr. McPhearson is quite a fighter. She shot the assailant twice and stabbed him once. And each time he took a hit, the guy seemed to pop back up like a jack-in-the-box. Sound familiar?”
Jake went still. “Yeah. It does. And it means I need to find Dr. McPhearson as fast as possible.”
CHAPTER 13
Havre, Montana
W hen Tom had been in prison, he’d taken an online Introduction to Psychology course. One of the topics they discussed was Lorenz’s concept of learned helplessness: how people believed that there was nothing they could do to help themselves even when opportunities for betterment arose.
As Tom looked around the enclosure, he thought that prisons and places like this were what Lorenz had been talking about. The inmates outnumbered the guards by forty-to-one, but no one had any thoughts of rebellion. After only a few hours, they had all learned that lesson too well.
The first day, Tom had been in shock. He kept thinking he wasn’t really here, that any moment he was going to open his eyes and wake up. His only awakening had been the realization that whoever set this place up didn’t care who died in the process. He’d helped carry four abused and emaciated bodies into the pit in just the first two days. After that, he’d stopped counting.
Last night, although exhausted, he again hadn’t slept. He kept trying to think of a way to escape. But there were too many guards, too many guns, and nowhere to run to. By dawn, he’d reached an uncomfortable truth: the only way he was getting out of here was as a corpse. His destiny was in that pit outside, with all the others held here.
And it wasn’t just the place that convinced him of that. It was the reality of his life. Who would be looking for him? Who cared enough about whether he lived or died? His Gran cared, but she’d been the last of his family. There were the people from the church. They probably just thought he skipped town. Cleo slipped into his mind. Did she think he’d just left? He’d finally found the right girl and now it was gone. She’d write him off.
An image of Jake appeared in his mind
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