Read Online Watchlist by Jeffery Deaver - Free Book Online Page B

officer.”
    She who couldn’t hold back. “Impossible!”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “That’s not my father.”
    “I understand how you must feel. It’s a shock, but we have witnesses—”
    “My father couldn’t have shot anybody. First off, Harold Middleton has spent his life fighting for what’s right. Hunting down and bringing to justice the sorts of monsters who terrorize and murder. That said, where did he get a gun? He’d just gotten off an international flight. Who was this cop? Why would my father want to kill him?”
    She held his gaze; the tense silence crackled between them. After a moment, the agent broke the contact, inclined his head. “Those are all questions only your father can answer. We need to speak with him.”
    The last thing she was about to do was help them find Harry.
    The Feds were like buzzards on road kill—once they made up their mind someone was guilty, they’d move heaven and earth to “prove” it.
    “What can I do?” she asked, sounding annoyingly earnest to her own ears.
    “Let us know the minute you hear from him.” Agent Smith handed her his card. She gazed down at it, adorned with the Bureau’s familiar red, white, blue and gold seal.
    He handed one to Perez. “That’s my cell number. Call anytime, day or night.”
    “I will.” She ran her thumb across the business card, heart pounding. “And if you find him—”
    “You’ll be the first to know.”
    “This is all a mistake. You’re looking for the wrong man.”
    “For your sake, I hope so.” As the two crossed to the door, Smith turned, meeting her gaze once more. Something in his expression made her skin crawl. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
    The moment the door shut behind them, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “We’re getting out of here. Now.”
    “Charley, what—”
    “This whole thing stinks. And I’m going to find out wh—” She stood and a wave of dizziness swept over her.
    Perez grabbed her arm, steadying her. “Harry’s in some trouble, no doubt. But there’s nothing you can do about it right now—and certainly not in your condition. I’ll get the nurse to call Doctor Levine and find out when you’re being released, and we’ll plan from there.”
    She shook off his hand. “You don’t get it. I’m not going to lie around here and do nothing when I know Harry’s in danger.”
    “For God’s sake, Charley. You’re in more danger than he is. You just had a miscarriage. Doctor Levine said to expect discomfort and bleeding. That you’d be weak. He advised taking it easy for a couple days. I’m not letting you walk out of here without his okay.”
    “Try to stop me.” She took a deep breath and looked her husband squarely in the eyes. “Those guys weren’t FBI.”
    Without waiting for a response, she crossed to the room’s version of a closet, a press board armoire. Her panties and trousers were bloodstained. The panties were ruined, she decided, so she would have to make do with the pads the hospital had provided. If she tied her jacket around her waist, her dark-colored trousers would do until she could replace them.
    She glanced at her husband as he watched her. “Those cards ‘Agent Smith’ handed us were bogus,” she said. “Take a good look. Cheap stock. Laser jet printing. Run your finger over it. The Bureau’s cards are engraved. This one could’ve been printed from any home computer.”
    She stepped into the stained trousers, a lump in her throat. She swallowed past it. There would be a lifetime to mourn their loss. Right now, Harry needed her.
    “The only number on Smith’s card,” she continued, “is a cell number.”
    Perez frowned, struggling to come to grips with what she was proposing. “So where’s the Bureau’s number?”
    “Exactly.”
    He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Charley, have you considered that you might be a little emotionally unstable right now? You’ve suffered a loss . . . It’s been a shock. I think taking a