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Noah pulled off the interstate in Richmond Hill, south of Savannah, Georgia, at ten o'clock at night. “There are still five hours left until we arrive in Tampa. Did you want to push on or spend the night here and leave early?”
Angie held back a yawn. She had been fighting to stay awake for the last two hours. “I didn’t sleep much last night, and it’s been a long day. I would rather be rested for whatever awaits us than be half asleep.”
“Sounds good to me.” Noah followed the signs for the hotels from the ramp and pulled into the Homewood Suites. The parking lot seemed half full, so there should be rooms available.
They had driven for eight hours and only stopped for food and to fill up the Navigator’s tank. The chill had left the air, and Georgia was almost humid by comparison. Another reason for a night’s rest was the fog covering the countryside. After a herd of deer suddenly appeared on the shoulder of the road, Noah dropped his speed significantly. The last thing they needed was an accident.
Deer and elk were a common occurrence near Arrow Point, and throughout his life, he had seen the results of a collision. When possible, he liked to avoid pushing his luck.
Noah booked two rooms on the third floor and left a wake-up call for seven o’clock in the morning. That would still place them in Tampa by noon or shortly thereafter. As to what would happen from there, too much depended on the only address the lawyer could find.
He kicked off his shoes and hung the suit in the closet. The time for dressing up was over, and Noah was glad to shed the formal wear. Three seconds after hitting the pillow, he was sleeping.
~
THE COMPLIMENTARY CONTINENTAL breakfast had the basics, and Noah lingered over a third cup of coffee as he read the newspaper. He had been unable to sleep late and was wide awake by five o’clock, and, after a hot shower, he dressed in jeans and a light-blue collared shirt. He tucked a note in Dickinson’s door before going to the lobby.
“You should have woken me up.” Angie walked in behind a family of four and joined him at the small table. The large room was filling up as the promise of a complimentary breakfast drew them downstairs.
“If you weren’t up by eight, I would have knocked.” Noah grinned. She had a long day and needed the rest, so he had canceled the wake-up calls. However, it was six-thirty in the morning, and they had lots of time.
“Be right back.” Angie grabbed some fruit and coffee as he folded the newspaper and pulled out the tablet. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and she had dressed similarly—jeans and a pin-striped black and white collared dress shirt.
Noah removed the picture from the frame in his room and brought it to the table. The photograph was older, and he couldn’t say the age. The man and woman wore football jerseys as they leaned toward each other on a backyard patio. They were clinking beer mugs and having a good time. Miriam Davis grinned with a glass of beer next to Dennis McCallister.
While he had never been there, the home of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, the Raymond Jay Stadium, was a familiar backdrop. With Google Earth, Noah zoomed in close enough to see the neighborhood and found the backyard deck and home. The lawyer could not locate a home address for Dennis, but the picture helped. Noah could not find out if he lived there or visited a friend, but it was a place to start. He wanted Dickinson’s opinion on the location. She was the one to show him the online tool, and he had spent hours snooping around the planet for the last month.
“What do you think?” He spun the picture and tablet around when she sat. Dickinson closed the application and pulled up another image. After a few adjustments, she grinned.
“Google Street View. I would say that’s definitely the location in the picture.”
Noah studied the image and compared it. A few trees were different, and one was missing entirely from the online photo. Things had changed since the picture was taken, but there was no doubt. It was the same angle as the stadium.
Dickinson finished her coffee and brought the apple and banana with her. “See how I didn’t say anything about an old dog and new tricks?”
Noah winked. “Appreciated, young pup. Ready?”
“Just need to grab my bag.”
Five minutes later, Noah handed in the room keys and checked out. There were no problems with the Chase credit card. He still did not want to use his in case the accounts were being monitored.
“Can we go to the Starbucks before we hit the interstate? As good as it was here ...” Angie preferred a strong dark roast.
“It’s on the way. I’ll have another as well.”
After they turned north on Ocean Highway toward the I-95, Noah passed the Taco Bell and Wendy’s and braked for the red light ahead.
Across the street, a gray Chrysler minivan pulled out of the Sunoco gas station and collided with a pickup truck going south. The collision sounded like an explosion as glass shattered and metal crumpled.
“Jesus Christ.”
The minivan spun in a half-circle, then the rear tires caught on the median barrier and flipped onto its side. It rocked on the grass but didn’t tip over. Noah was on the other side of the intersection, less than sixty feet away.
He placed the rental in park, and Dickinson reached for her seatbelt. “Just a second.” He held up a hand. He had seen something wrong.
A man struggled to climb out of the driver’s window, and it was then the shotgun came into full view. The man began screaming at the woman in the truck and brought the weapon up to his shoulder. The man wore track pants and a blue T-shirt with a red baseball cap. His left arm was bleeding from a long cut.
Angie opened the glove box for the MP&9 as Noah pulled the Glock out of the armrest. He performed a quick press-check to confirm a round was seated. As Noah opened the car door and stepped outside, he could hear the woman’s screams from inside the truck.
“Okay, you stay at least ten yards from me and—”
Noah paused when a familiar flashing of lights and siren sounded from the McDonald’s parking lot. The gray and black cruiser of the Virginia State Police pulled into the intersection and blocked the oncoming traffic.
As soon as the two officers stepped out of the car, everything went to hell.