Divine Justice (Camel Club 4)

“Hell, he’ll be fine. He’s got four shotguns, a deer rifle, two hunting b

ows, a pickup truck, his own double-wide, cable TV and propane to keep warm, a camp stove to cook on and folding money from the mine. What’s not to come home to? My boy aimed high in life, didn’t he?” She smiled. But then it quickly faded. “Look, I got to go,” she said. “Thanks again for saving my baby.”

She closed the door behind her and moved past Stone.

He watched as she got in her car and drove off.

He hoisted his bag and walked back to the main road.

Five minutes later the truck almost hit him as it flew by. He dodged out of the way, rolled and came up in time to see a man throw himself out of the truck cab and land hard in the road. Stone raced toward him and turned him over.

It was Danny. He was badly beaten but still breathing. And then Stone looked up. The truck had stopped. As he watched it turned and headed toward him, stopping a few feet from where he knelt next to Danny. Three men climbed out and each one carried a baseball bat.

CHAPTER 31

JOE KNOX SAT in his town house having a cup of coffee and pondering his next move. The idiot Agency artist he’d requested to do a composite had gotten lost on the way to Leroy’s place. And when he’d gotten there Leroy had gone off on his damn boat. Leroy didn’t have a phone so the best Knox could do was send another agent up there to try and pin the man down. Until he had a picture to show around, Knox was at a standstill in his investigation. And if Leroy had been involved and was now on the run after Knox had conveniently warned him?

There will be no way to explain such a junior mistake to Hayes.

He decided to run through again what he’d learned at the military records center, in case it might suggest something. A half hour later he was no further along. Maybe he should go back to the records center and go through some more documents. The attendant had been able to easily find the other boxes for him. It probably wouldn’t take—

Knox slowly set down his coffee cup. The next moment he was racing to the phone. He got the number for the records center and punched it in. A minute later, after being forwarded along to several extensions, he heard the voice of the man who’d helped him before. Knox identified himself and then asked the question.

“How did you find what I wanted so easily? It was like the boxes were already out.”

“Well, actually they were,” the man replied a bit sheepishly. “I mean, they’d been checked out some months back. Maybe six months or so, and I’m a little embarrassed to say that no one had filed them away yet. And we’ve been a bit shorthanded as of late,” he added quickly, as though suspecting that Knox might actually be some sort of military archives inspector trying to pull a slick one.

“So someone else was looking at those records?” Knox said slowly. “Can you tell me who?”

The man excused himself for a minute. When he came back on the line he said, “Guy named Harry Finn. Says here on the sign-in log he used to be with the Navy SEALs. He had the credentials and top secret clearances to get access to the boxes you looked at. That help you any?”

“That helps me a lot, thanks.” Knox clicked off and spent the next hour tracking down Harry Finn, former SEAL.

An hour later he pulled his truck to a stop, got out, walked up to the steps and rang the doorbell. A few moments later it opened and he was staring across at a tall young man whose gaze burned back into his.

“Harry Finn?”

Finn didn’t answer. His gaze instinctively checked behind Knox.

“I’m alone. Well, as alone as is probably possible on something like this.”

“Something like what?”

“Can I come in?”

“Who in the hell are you?”

Knox flipped open his creds. “I’m here to talk about Oliver Stone. Or you might know him as John Carr.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“I’m not sure why you were looking up the guy’s military record, or whether you’re his friend or not. But he’s on the run and somebody’s going to get to him at some point. And when they do.” Knox simply shrugged.

Finn was about to say something when Knox’s cell phone rang. He’d been half expecting it actually, even as he glanced over his shoulder and saw the black sedan parked down the road. His expert gaze, however, did not pick up the nondescript white van parked farther down. It was Macklin Hayes on the phone, and as usual he got right to the point.

“What the hell are you doing there, Knox?”

“Where?”

“Harry Finn is off-limits.”

Knox backed down the steps and turned away from Finn. “Nobody told me that.”

“I’m telling you now. How did you get on to him? Anything to do with your visit to the military records center?”

“And why do you find need to follow me, sir?” Knox turned and waved to the men in the black sedan.

“What did you find?”

“Not much. He fought in Vietnam. He was a good soldier. Then he just disappeared. Probably when he was recruited for”—Knox glanced at Finn and smiled—“for that thing that doesn’t exist.”

“You are to leave that house now and never go back.”

The phone went dead. Knox put it back in his pocket and turned to Finn.

“You’ll be happy to know that you’re officially off-limits, or so my boss just told me. But just keep in mind that something really screwy is going on with Carr. I’ve already gabbed with his friends, including the lady who calls herself Susan Hunter. She told me Carr had the goods on Carter Gray but that Gray got it back probably at the Capitol Visitor Center. You probably already know that from your suitably blank expression. Maybe you were even there. All I can tell you is I’ve been assigned to track Carr down. That’s all. But when I do track him down, and rest assured I will, other people will show up and take over. And I doubt they’ll have his best interests at heart. Whether you give a shit or not, I don’t know and really don’t care.”

He put out a hand for Finn to shake. When he did, Finn came away with a business card with Knox’s contact information on it.

“You have a good day, Mr. Finn.”

Knox walked back to his truck while Finn stared after him.

Knox didn’t know exactly why he’d done that. Well, maybe he did. John Carr had gotten his ass shot up for his country and they’d screwed him. Whatever else the man had done, that just wasn’t right.

In the white van, Annabelle punched in the number. A moment later Harry Finn answered. He relayed to her what Knox had told him and she in turn filled him in.

“Do we trust this guy, Annabelle?” Finn asked.

“I didn’t at first, but now I’m not so sure. He seems to be caught right in the middle.”

“So what do we do?”

“Sit tight. I may need your help later. Or more to the point, Oliver will.”

“I owe Oliver everything. So I’ll be there if you need me.”

CHAPTER 32

STONE ROSE, his right hand undoing his belt as he did so. He slipped it off and held it by the buckle. The silver pointed end dangled a few inches from the road.

The men circled him, holding their bats ready.

“Odds don’t look too good for you, pops,” said one of them.

An instant later he was on the ground, his face covered in blood from