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I, Michael Bennett
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Текст книги "I, Michael Bennett"


Автор книги: James Patterson


Соавторы: James Patterson
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 20 страниц)



CHAPTER 104




AN HOUR LATER, I was racing south down the Thruway in a borrowed FBI SUV, lights and siren at full strength. I threw it onto the shoulder without touching the brake as traffic backed up. I was still tearing ass when I threw the vehicle up on a grass berm around both the state police car and the ambulance at a highway accident scene that was causing the backup.

In my rearview mirror, in the red light of the road flares, I could see the trooper glaring at my taillights, as though he wanted to empty his service revolver at me, but that couldn’t be helped. I punched the SUV back off the berm onto the dark highway in a cloud of dust and continued south.

I’d already spoken to Seamus, who assured me that everything was fine. I’d even contacted Ed Boyanoski, who had sent a Newburgh PD squad car to watch the house. And yet I frantically needed to get back to the lake house. Perrine’s words, his promise to hurt my family, wouldn’t stop replaying in my mind. Perrine was capable of absolutely anything.

It was about twenty-five minutes later when I finally fish-tailed the truck into the lake house driveway. The first thing I noticed was Ed’s Toyota beside a Newburgh squad car out in front. All the lights were on in the house as I flew up the steps through the open door.

Ed was in the hallway. He caught me as I almost ran through him.

“It’s okay, Mike. Everybody’s okay.”

I finally looked over his shoulder and felt like crying as I saw he was telling the truth. Everyone was sitting around the dining room table in front of several pizza boxes.

“Is everybody here?” I said. “Is everyone here?”

I scanned faces.

Jane: check. Eddie, Ricky: check. Juliana, Brian, Trent: check. Little Shawna, with Chrissy—thank you, dear God: check.

“Fiona and Bridget,” I said. “Where are the twins?”

“Right here, Daddy,” Fiona said, coming through the kitchen doorway with a bowl of salad, followed by Bridget, who was holding a two-liter bottle of Coke.

“Why is Daddy’s face all black?” Bridget said.

“Good question, Bridget,” Trent piped in over his slice. “What I want to know is, why is he acting nuts?”

“You mean more nuts than usual?” Eddie said.

I smiled at my motley crew as I let out a breath. What Perrine said was a bluff. Of course it was. Thank you, God.

“Oh, we’re all here, Detective Bennett,” Seamus said from the foot of the table. “Everyone is present and accounted for. And I do mean everyone.”

That’s when the kitchen door opened.

And Mary Catherine came in with a bunch of napkins in her hand.




CHAPTER 105




WHEN SHE SPOTTED me standing there, she stopped in her tracks, the napkins in her hands fluttering to the floor. My jaw was already there waiting for them.

It was one of those movie moments. I waited for a sappy eighties love ballad to start playing so I could lift her up where we belonged or something. All the kids started giggling. Actually, that was the girls. The boys were too busy rolling their eyes.

“Okay, Bennetts. This is where I take my leave,” Ed Boyanoski said.

“Hi, Mike,” Mary said.

She bent down and started picking up napkins.

“Here, let me help,” I said, just about hurdling over the table and grabbing some napkins off the floor. Then I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen.

I kicked the door shut behind me, and before I really knew what I was doing, I lifted her up off her feet as I bear-hugged her. My arms tingled where I held her to me.

The door started opening behind us. I blocked it with my foot.

“Hey, what gives?” Seamus said. “What’s going on in there? And what’s wrong with the door?”

“It’s, eh … the napkins,” I cried as I held the door fast with my foot. “They’re jammed in the hinge. You should call a cop or something.”

“But you are a cop, Daddy,” Chrissy squealed.

“Um … it’s nice to see you, too, Mike,” Mary Catherine said, suddenly pushing me away.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I guess I’m a little overwhelmed. I truly never thought I’d see you again. It’s just … it’s just really good to see you, Mary Catherine, and … ”

“Just wait, Mike. This is hard, so just let me say it,” Mary Catherine said, staring at me levelly. “It’s not what you think. I’m not back back. I’m just willing to come back to handle all the back-to-school stuff for the kids. Then you have to find a replacement for me.”

I stood there trying to keep my heart from jumping through my chest. As if replacing her were possible, I thought as I stared at her. Why had I destroyed everything? I wondered. A replacement for her? God, that hurt.

“Of course,” I finally said.

But Mary Catherine was already on the move toward the dining room.

Cancel the eighties love ballad, I thought as I watched her walk away.




CHAPTER 106




THAT NIGHT, WE went back to New York in the most brutal end-of-summer traffic imaginable. To add some fun to the mix, Trent, after having probably one too many Cokes, barfed sausage pizza chunks all over the back of the Bennett bus.

Pulling the bus off the West Side Highway, we were greeted with more grief. Cops had West End Avenue completely cordoned off. In the distance, beyond the blue sawhorses, I could see a bunch of blindingly bright portable light carts positioned in front of my building.

Was it a movie? I thought, pulling up to the NYPD blockade.

“Hey, moron. Read my barricade. Move this hunk now,” a tall, helpful, uniformed New York City peace officer screamed at me.

“That’s Detective Moron to you, Sarge,” I said, showing my gold shield as I got out of the bus. “That’s my building there. Didn’t they cancel Law and Order? What’s up?”

“Supposed to keep it under wraps, but looks like the T word, Detective,” the white-haired cop said, nodding. “They found a truck bomb. Can you believe it?”

“What?” I said.

“You heard me. Some mother parked a Penske truck filled with ammonium nitrate and diesel fuel in the middle of the block. Bomb guy just told me it was bigger than the one that took out the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City. They got the detonator or whatever licked, but they still gotta tow it out of here. Watch the potholes, right? If a sharp-eyed doorman hadn’t seen something and said something, the freakin’ West Side would be a crater.”

I stared at him, my mouth open. Then I stared down the block.

Perrine, I thought, shaking my head. Had to be. He wasn’t going to kill just me and my family. No, that would be far too common. In order to get to me, he was actually going to kill everyone on my entire block.

“Hey, Detective? You okay?” the cop said, but I was already on the move, scanning the street in front of me and the street behind as I jogged back to my bus.

“What is it, Mike?” Mary Catherine said.

“Um … gas leak. We can’t get back into the building. We need to hit a hotel tonight,” I said, popping it into gear.




CHAPTER 107




I TURNED AROUND and drove out of the city and checked into a hotel over the New York State line just outside of Danbury, Connecticut. On the way up, I had Mary Catherine confiscate everyone’s cell phones. Remembering what Ginther had said about cell phones being potential microphones, I even had her remove all the batteries.

For the next hour, as the kids watched TV in the other room, I exchanged calls with Tara McLellan and my boss, Miriam. About an hour or so after that, a team of FBI agents and U.S. marshals arrived at the hotel in unmarked cars.

“These gentlemen are from the gas company, I take it?” Mary Catherine said skeptically.

I nodded and left with them for a meeting in the lobby.

An hour later, I came back to the room, my head spinning. What I’d just been told made a lot of sense, but I still had trouble swallowing it. Talk about a shock to the system.

“Mary Catherine,” I said grimly. “I have news. Could you gather everybody together for a family meeting? Actually, have the twins take Trent and Chrissy and Shawna into the other room. I need to talk to all the bigger guys.”

“What is it, Mike?” Mary said.

“I’ll tell you in a second,” I said. “But you really might want to reconsider your position when you find out what it is.”

“What is it, Dad?” Brian said as they squeezed into the room.

I looked at their faces one by one where they sat on the chairs and the desk and the double bed.

“Well, what’s going on is, well … we’re moving,” I said. “We have to move.”

The kids stared at each other, giant-eyed.

“What? Why? Huh? Why?” everyone wanted to know at the same time.

“Quiet down, children,” Seamus cried.

“Our block was cordoned off because a criminal, a drug lord, a man named Manuel Perrine, whom I caught and who then escaped, planted a bomb in front of our building. He wants to kill me and hurt you guys because of how much I love you. That’s why we need to go somewhere where he can’t find us. Now. Someplace safe.”

“But what about school?” Juliana said.

“And Mass?” Seamus said. “Father Charles is out sick. I have to say Mass tomorrow morning.”

“We’re going to have to figure all that out, guys,” I said. “The U.S. marshals are sending over a team right now to take us to our new location.”

“What about our stuff?”

“They’re going to go by the apartment and pack it up for us. We can’t go home. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’re leaving New York?” Seamus said. He seemed flabbergasted.

“At least for now,” I said.

“But all our friends. Our lives,” Brian said. “How can this be happening?”

My sentiments exactly, I thought as I let out a breath. This sucked, and it was about to get worse. I didn’t even tell them we might have to change our names.




CHAPTER 108




THE WITNESS PROTECTION team arrived at four in the morning. Four more FBI agents and about a dozen U.S. marshals in cars and vans. Though they tried to keep their weapons under their Windbreakers, out of the kids’ sight, I spotted more than one submachine gun.

This was no joke. They wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if we weren’t serious targets. This was about as serious and scary as it got.

“Okay, Mary Catherine,” I said to her in the lobby as the agents were walking the kids out into the waiting vans. “I guess this is good-bye for now.”

One of the female FBI agents who was coordinating our transport turned around from the front sliding door as she overheard us.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Good-bye? What are you guys talking about?”

“It’s okay,” I said. “This is Mary Catherine, my nanny. She’s not coming with us.”

The brown-eyed, red-haired agent thumbed her smartphone.

“Mary Catherine Flynn?” the agent asked.

“That’s right,” Mary Catherine said.

“Yes, well, Ms. Mary Catherine Flynn, you can’t go anywhere. Not if you value your life. You need to come with us right now.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“We traced the rental truck used for the bomb in front of your building. It came back to a Dominican drug gang affiliated with Perrine. We raided them last night. They had photos of all of you. Folders with information about where you guys work, where the kids go to school, the works. Mary Catherine here was with all the rest of you. Perrine is paying top dollar to take every one of you out. She’s a target as much as you are. She can’t be left behind.”

“But—” I said.

“It’s okay, Mike,” Mary Catherine said. “I’ll go along for now. You’re going to need my help anyway with the children. They’re all so upset. We’ll figure it out.”

How? I thought as I stood there helplessly watching my world, my family’s world, and now Mary Catherine’s world turn upside down and inside out.

How would we be able to figure any of this out?




CHAPTER 109




THEY DIVIDED US between two vans. Mary Catherine and me with the girls. Seamus in the other vehicle with the boys.

We drove west, back into New York State, and straight on through into Pennsylvania. Neither of the jarheaded U.S. marshals sitting in the front seat told me where we were headed, and I didn’t ask.

I didn’t even want to know, I was still so depressed. As we drove along, I asked myself if I regretted pissing off the drug lord so much on the phone, and quickly decided that I didn’t. To hell with his evil ass if he can’t take a joke. Besides, he’d have come after me anyway.

If I had any regrets, it was that Mary Catherine had been roped into it. Especially with the mess I had made of things. Not only had I driven her off, now I’d put her life in danger. I didn’t know how to begin to apologize to her.

I fell asleep as the sun was coming up and when I woke, it was noon. We were somewhere flat. Ohio. Indiana, maybe. I stared out at the side of the highway into empty farm fields, wondering if I was dreaming. Despite everything, it felt good to be in the middle of nowhere and moving. There was something instinctual about it, that feeling of safety in motion.

I heard a strange sound and realized it was the new phone the marshals had given me in exchange for my old one. I looked at the 212 number as I clumsily thumbed it on. Tara, I thought.

But it wasn’t.

“Mike? Hi. It’s Bill Bedford.”

He was slurring a little, I noticed. In fact, he sounded drunk.

“Hey, Bill,” I said. “I take it you heard about what happened at my building?”

“I did, Mike, but that’s not why I called,” Bill said. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I just got off the phone with NYPD Homicide. Tara’s dead. They just found her.”

I sat up.

“No, no, no,” I said.

“They must have gotten her on the street on her way to work, Mike,” Bill said, sniffling. “She was taken to a motel in the Bronx, and God, Mike, they tore her apart. They found her head floating in the bathtub.”

I closed my eyes and let out a breath.

“Perrine did it himself, too,” Bedford said. “They have him on the motel’s security video waltzing through the door with a big grin on his face. He’s not human. That fucker isn’t human.”

“No, he isn’t,” I agreed as my mind spun.

“I’m so sorry, Mike,” Bill said.

He sounded completely wrecked. I thought about Tara at the St. Regis, how she’d said I’d saved her.

“Me too, Bill,” I said after a bit. “Thanks for calling. It couldn’t have been easy.”

Mary Catherine stirred beside me.

“What is it, Mike? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said, looking back at my kids, then out at the fields, up at the sky.

“It’s okay,” I lied as I fought panic and tears. “Go back to sleep, Mary Catherine. Everything is going to be fine.”

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Version 1.0

Epub ISBN 9781409038825

Published by Century, 2012

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Copyright © James Patterson, 2012

James Patterson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work

This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by

Century

Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road

London SW1V 2SA

www.randomhouse.co.uk

Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Hardback ISBN 9781846057625

Trade paperback ISBN 9781846057632


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