King and Maxwell (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 6)

“And there it is. And unfortunately it’s not in code.”

“Why unfortunately?” asked Michelle. “If it’s not coded we should be able to break it easily, even without Edgar.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

He handed her the phone.

She eyed the screen, reading the short email.

Tonight at ten. Usual place.

“Usual place,” said Michelle, her brow furrowed.

“Seemingly straightforward information without context is better than code,” noted Sean. “There’s no logical way to crack it because we don’t know where the usual place is.”

“Sure there is,” countered Michelle, tossing him back his phone.

He caught it and stared at her as she sped up on her way out of WFO.

They had to take a taxi back to Sean’s house because the FBI had refused, or at least Littlefield had refused, them a ride back.

Michelle sat impatiently in the backseat, urging the cabdriver to run red lights, break the speed limit, and come as close as possible to sideswiping cars that refused to get out of the way.

“In other words,” said Sean, “you want him to drive just like you.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“And why the rush?”

“Got an idea. We need to talk to someone.”

“Who?”

“The only person I know who can give us some context and help us understand that email.”

They returned to Sean’s house and climbed immediately into Michelle’s Land Cruiser. Sean had to kick junk and trash off the floorboard so his feet would have a place to rest. Some of the stuff fell outside on the driveway as he closed the door.

“Just so you know,” he said, “I am not picking that up.”

“Good boy, Sean. Glad to see you’re being a little less of a neatnik. It shows personal growth and maturity.”

“You know that was not my poi—”

He didn’t finish because she had backed the truck out of his driveway at about eighty miles an hour before slamming it into drive and hurtling off. She started tapping the steering wheel with her fingers, moving her head from side to side and smiling.

“You really get high from this stuff, don’t you?” he observed, watching her.

“What stuff?”

“Speed, danger, being stupid.”

“You lost me on the last one.”

“So the context? Fill me in.”

“Kathy Burnett. They grew up together. They’re tight. I’m betting if anyone can tell us where the ‘usual place’ is for Tyler and his dad, it will be her.”

“That’s actually quite insightful, Michelle,” he said.