1st Case - James Patterson Page 0,45

say hi to George and catch up a little, before he said good night to both of us. Then as he turned away to head back inside, I hit him with a parting shot, just for fun.

“Hey, Agent Keats?” I called out.

Billy stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“You were a beast last night,” I said. “I’ve never seen anyone work a case so hard. Or so long. Go get some sleep, because you deserve it.”

Billy shook his head at me but kept a poker face.

“Thank you, Intern Hoot,” he said, giving back a little better than I expected before he moved off into the night. I guess I wasn’t the only one who could roll with the punches.

And good thing, too. Because I was about to get hit with a big one before that day was over.

CHAPTER 49

“WHERE ARE WE heading?” George asked.

“Eventually out to Somerville,” I said. “But I need to make a couple of stops across the river, if you don’t mind.”

“Your call,” he said. “I’m on the clock until seven a.m. Doesn’t matter to me where I spend it.”

On our way to Cambridge, I got an earful about George’s kidneys, his Dobermans, and his ex-wife, whose remarriage was saving him a bundle. He seemed to mistake me for one of his lodge buddies, but I couldn’t really complain. I wouldn’t want to play babysitter, either.

In any case, while George chattered away, he didn’t seem to mind, or even notice, that I was texting with A.A. at the same time.

You around? I asked.

I can be, she came back right away.

Coming to hang with you if that’s ok? Can’t stay too long.

Excellent. Pick up a bottle?

I can do that.

The truth was, I’d come out of that shift meeting thinking about five people: my mother, my father, my sisters, and A.A.

I’d already gone over every internet-connected device in my parents’ house and given them all the old “Surf safe” lecture. Twice for my sisters. But now I wanted to check A.A.’s phone. If there were fifteen million copies of this thing, what were the chances one of them had landed with her?

I asked George to stop at the Starbucks on Mass Ave and ran in for two venti dark roasts plus two double espresso shots. After that, I picked up a pint of Jameson at the liquor store to go with the coffee. A.A. and I called it Irish Ritalin. It was just the right combination to put an edge on and take it off at the same time.

When we got to Ashdown House, George pulled up and parked illegally right in front.

“Do you have to come in with me?” I asked.

“Take this,” he said, and handed me a radio. “It’s got a GPS on it and a dedicated channel. I’ll be right here if you need me. And don’t go anywhere else.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “I’ll be an hour, tops.”

“No problemo.”

I appreciated the personal space, whether or not he was supposed to give it to me. And I was psyched to get a little time with my bestie, too. The night was going about 90 percent better than I would have thought, considering the ridiculous day I’d had.

So I was disappointed, to say the least, when I saw Darren Wendt coming down the building’s main stairs. It looked like he was just leaving as I was coming inside. Maybe that was why A.A. sent me on a drinks run, I thought—to buy herself a little time with the Cro-Magnon creep himself.

Just not enough of it, apparently.

“Hoot!” Darren said before I could pretend not to see him. “As I live and sneeze.”

“Darren. What an unpleasant surprise,” I said. “Why are you still coming here, anyway? I thought you liked your women dumb.”

“Yeah, well …” He looked around, playing it up like some bad actor. “It’s MIT. There are no dumb girls here.”

“Plenty of assholes, though,” I said.

I meant it, but he just laughed. He was obviously in a good mood and I hated to think about why.

“All right, then. Good talk. Gotta go,” I said, and kept on moving.

“You know she’s never going to be your girlfriend, right?” he called after me, loud enough for anyone to hear.

I shouldn’t have stopped. The best MO with guys like him is always some combination of “Ignore” and “Keep walking.” But there was just something about Darren that demanded constant shutting down.

“So now you’re the only one who can hang out with her?” I said, against my own better judgment.

“Get over it, Hoot! You lost!”