Read Online Time Clock Hero by Spikes Donovan - Free Book Online Page A

eye for people.  He knew what they were and weren’t capable of before they even knew it; and he’d been right far too often.  He’d always said he could see it in the eyes.  Paranoia, malice, anger – everything up to and including innocence.  His gut told him Eric Sawyer was no monster.  Neither was Mariela Diaz.  They were just a couple of kids who had made horrible and devastating choices, willful choices, choices whose consequences were terminal.  They had no idea that, together, because of what they did, they would change history.  Phoenix breathed and shook his head.
    Phillip Mercer, a physics and computer programming major, had finished at St. David’s and, like Dr. Cain, had gone on to graduate school at Vanderbilt.  He died three years ago in an auto accident.
    Phoenix printed off a couple of articles, took them from the printer, and stood up.  Alaia had finished going through the yearbooks a bit earlier.  She waved her stack at Phoenix and nodded him over to her table.
    “Seems like our little clique never did anything apart from one another,” Alaia said.
    “Except for that night in the back of Eric Sawyer’s BMW.”
    Alaia thumbed through her stack of copies: individual photos of people of interest and a number of group photos.  “Take a look.  Here’s a picture of all them – Eric Sawyer, Mariela Diaz, Dr. Cain – and here’s the other one Dr. Cain mentioned: Phillip Mercer – the one at Green Lawn Cemetery.  And the last guy is Patrick Carson.”
    “Let’s find out who this Patrick Carson guy is,” Phoenix said, putting his finger on the picture, right on Patrick Carson’s chest.
    “You’re kidding me, right?”
    “Why would I kid you?”
    “Patrick Carson?  Dr. Patrick Carson?”
    Phoenix’s phone started singing, loud enough to wake the sleeping student slumped over with his head on the table drooling on his homework.  He fumbled for the phone, dropping his papers; and he finally got it out of his pocket.  “Hello,” he said.  “Dr. Cain? … Well, yes … I can be there in a minute or two.”  He looked at Alaia and crossed his fingers, and then he said: “I’m on the way.”
    “Okay,” Alaia said, “I’ll put together a bio of Dr. Patrick Carson of Carson Research Labs .”
    “You know this guy?”
    Alaia rolled her eyes.  “I’m starting to wonder if you’re even the big picture guy.  Like, he’s hanging out with Dr. Cain here at St. David’s and he’s not going to be famous?”
    “And that’s why I like you, Detective Jenkins,” Phoenix said, “You’re a model detective.”
    “You’re saying I’m a small imitation of the real thing?  Is that it?”
    “Exactly, but you’ll grow out of it.”
    Phoenix picked up the papers he’d dropped, handed Alaia his messy stack, and fled from the room, dodging chairs and students.  He hit the tall, smoky-glassed doors on the run.  He took a short cut over some evergreen shrubs, landed in some spring flowers, and ran across the street and up the steps of the Lutrell building.  Once inside, he stopped to catch his breath.  Half a minute later, he was back in Dr. Cain’s office.
    “Let’s not talk here,” Dr. Cain said.  He stepped out of his office, closed the door, and locked it behind him.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue iPhone.  Thin pieces of black electrical tape, neatly clipped to shape, covered the camera and mic ports.  He looked at Phoenix and caught his attention, then he looked down at his phone and turned it off.
    Phoenix watched as Dr. Cain pulled from his pocket a small roll of electrical tape, along with a tiny pair of scissors.  He then watched him cut off two small pieces. 
    “Just do it,” Dr. Cain said, “and then turn off your phone.”
    Phoenix did as he was told.
    “Now, give it to me.”
    Dr. Cain took the phone, reached into his jacket, and removed a small, metal container, a gray one.  He opened it up, laid both phones inside, and closed