Read Online The Promise: An Elvis Cole and Joe Pike Novel by Robert Crais - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert Crais
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out-of-date, who wore sensible shoes and minded her own business.
I went out to the balcony and studied the view. Most days, I was lucky to see the water, but the hotels and condominiums at the edge of the earth were vivid with morning light, and the peak of Catalina Island was sharp, twenty-six miles to the south. It took a storm to give the world clarity.
I stepped back inside, opened a bottle of water, and tipped the bottle at Pinocchio.
“Why does it always take a storm?”
His eyes tocked, but he didn’t answer.
I returned to my desk and flipped through the yearbooks.
Like most kids, Jacob and his friends had written inscriptions in each other’s yearbooks. Since friendships overlap, the people who wrote in Jacob’s yearbook probably knew Lerner and a few might have stayed in touch. I started on the inside front cover, read the inscriptions, and noted their names.
School’s out FOREVER! We’re going different
ways, but I hope we don’t lose touch!
The senior year sentiment was predictable, but one name appeared in three inscriptions on the first page and instantly screamed for attention.
Good luck with Jennie, bro! Have you and Jennie set
the date? Jennie’s too HOT for a loser like you!
Jennie was mentioned in four more inscriptions on the next page and nine more times in the rest of the book. Then I turned to the inside back cover and found a large red heart filling most of the page. The heart had been drawn with a red marker and contained an inscription.
My J,
2 Js today
2 Js tomorrow
2 Js forever
i luv u
Your J
Jacob’s prom date might not be Jennie, but the odds were good, and she would be the go-to person to ask about Thomas Lerner. None of the inscriptions contained her last name, but I found her on the sixth page of the Seniors section in the yearbook, third row from the bottom, second face from the right. Her name was Jennifer Li.
I said, “Hello, Jennie.”
I found her again in the J-K-L section of Jacob’s address book. Jennie, with no last name, 310 area code.
Jennie would have a different number by now, but her high school number was probably her family’s home.
A recorded male voice asked me to leave my name and number. The voice didn’t identify himself by name, so he might have been anyone, but I told him I was trying to reach Jennifer Li about a high school classmate named Jacob Breslyn. I asked for a callback whether or not the man knew Ms. Li, and tried not to sound as if I were begging.
I hung up feeling discouraged. People never answered their phones. Callback was another word for frustration.
Next, I checked Jacob’s address book against the list of classmate names, and found seven possible matches. Two were still good. Ricky Stanley now lived in Australia and Carl Lembeck was a policeman in Hawthorne. Rick Stanley’s mother promised to email her son and Lembeck’s mother told me Carl hadn’t spoken to her in years.Neither woman remembered Thomas Lerner, and only Stanley’s mother recalled Jacob Breslyn.
I gathered my notes and the yearbooks, and decided to look for Charles.
Everett’s Natural Creations was on Melrose in West Hollywood. I made pretty good time in the mid-morning traffic. The local talk radio stations were buzzing about the RPG rounds and grenades found with a body in Echo Park. A high-ranking deputy chief and a city councilman were announced as upcoming guests. They would feel the heat of justifiably concerned callers, and the heat would trickle down to Carter, and maybe to me.
I was thinking about Carter when I slipped through a yellow at La Brea and heard a horn behind me. I glanced in the rearview and saw a light blue two-door Dodge bust the red two cars behind me. The Dodge disappeared into a gas station, but the horn blower stayed on his horn and made a big show of raising his middle finger. Drama.
I turned off the radio and thought about Amy until I hit Fairfax and saw the Dodge again. The Dodge was at a light, waiting to turn. I passed
I went out to the balcony and studied the view. Most days, I was lucky to see the water, but the hotels and condominiums at the edge of the earth were vivid with morning light, and the peak of Catalina Island was sharp, twenty-six miles to the south. It took a storm to give the world clarity.
I stepped back inside, opened a bottle of water, and tipped the bottle at Pinocchio.
“Why does it always take a storm?”
His eyes tocked, but he didn’t answer.
I returned to my desk and flipped through the yearbooks.
Like most kids, Jacob and his friends had written inscriptions in each other’s yearbooks. Since friendships overlap, the people who wrote in Jacob’s yearbook probably knew Lerner and a few might have stayed in touch. I started on the inside front cover, read the inscriptions, and noted their names.
School’s out FOREVER! We’re going different
ways, but I hope we don’t lose touch!
The senior year sentiment was predictable, but one name appeared in three inscriptions on the first page and instantly screamed for attention.
Good luck with Jennie, bro! Have you and Jennie set
the date? Jennie’s too HOT for a loser like you!
Jennie was mentioned in four more inscriptions on the next page and nine more times in the rest of the book. Then I turned to the inside back cover and found a large red heart filling most of the page. The heart had been drawn with a red marker and contained an inscription.
My J,
2 Js today
2 Js tomorrow
2 Js forever
i luv u
Your J
Jacob’s prom date might not be Jennie, but the odds were good, and she would be the go-to person to ask about Thomas Lerner. None of the inscriptions contained her last name, but I found her on the sixth page of the Seniors section in the yearbook, third row from the bottom, second face from the right. Her name was Jennifer Li.
I said, “Hello, Jennie.”
I found her again in the J-K-L section of Jacob’s address book. Jennie, with no last name, 310 area code.
Jennie would have a different number by now, but her high school number was probably her family’s home.
A recorded male voice asked me to leave my name and number. The voice didn’t identify himself by name, so he might have been anyone, but I told him I was trying to reach Jennifer Li about a high school classmate named Jacob Breslyn. I asked for a callback whether or not the man knew Ms. Li, and tried not to sound as if I were begging.
I hung up feeling discouraged. People never answered their phones. Callback was another word for frustration.
Next, I checked Jacob’s address book against the list of classmate names, and found seven possible matches. Two were still good. Ricky Stanley now lived in Australia and Carl Lembeck was a policeman in Hawthorne. Rick Stanley’s mother promised to email her son and Lembeck’s mother told me Carl hadn’t spoken to her in years.Neither woman remembered Thomas Lerner, and only Stanley’s mother recalled Jacob Breslyn.
I gathered my notes and the yearbooks, and decided to look for Charles.
Everett’s Natural Creations was on Melrose in West Hollywood. I made pretty good time in the mid-morning traffic. The local talk radio stations were buzzing about the RPG rounds and grenades found with a body in Echo Park. A high-ranking deputy chief and a city councilman were announced as upcoming guests. They would feel the heat of justifiably concerned callers, and the heat would trickle down to Carter, and maybe to me.
I was thinking about Carter when I slipped through a yellow at La Brea and heard a horn behind me. I glanced in the rearview and saw a light blue two-door Dodge bust the red two cars behind me. The Dodge disappeared into a gas station, but the horn blower stayed on his horn and made a big show of raising his middle finger. Drama.
I turned off the radio and thought about Amy until I hit Fairfax and saw the Dodge again. The Dodge was at a light, waiting to turn. I passed
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