Читать книгу The Goodbye Man - Jeffery Deaver, Jeffery Deaver - Страница 23

Oh my,” Larry Young said.

He seemed to be considering confronting the man but Dalton Crowe outweighed Erick’s father by fifty pounds. He was intimidation personified. The big, swarthy man shot him a warrior’s glare and Larry stayed put.

Shaw regarded Crowe calmly. He knew that the man wasn’t going to do more than try to rough him up a bit—especially given that they were within shouting distance of the Public Safety Office.

The Youngs now relaxed somewhat, noting that Shaw didn’t seem troubled by the slap or bluster or glowering face.

“Dalton,” Shaw said pleasantly.

“You led me on a wild goose chase.”

A phrase coined in Romeo and Juliet, by the witty and doomed Mercutio. Wild goose chase … While there was no TV in the Shaw household on the Compound, the children read and read and read. And often acted out plays, Shaw’s specialty being Henry V.

Crowe continued, “There was no yellow fucking Volkswagen Beetle. That wasn’t sporting. You owe me that money.” A nod toward the check in Shaw’s hand. “That’s mine.”

He reached for it. Shaw leaned forward and looked with utmost—and unnerving—calm right into Crowe’s eyes. The man eased back.

Shaw could very well have waited until later: the privacy of a hotel or in his Winnebago or in the Youngs’ own living room. But because Adam Harper had died under his watch, and because Erick Young was sitting scared as a mouse in a holding cell and because Shaw’s shoulder still hurt from Dalton Crowe’s love tap, he decided that now was the perfect moment. He pulled his fountain pen from his jacket pocket. He looked to the Youngs. He asked, “Your bank account, it’s joint?”

“Our …?”

“Your checking account, both your names on it?”

“Oh.” Emma looked perplexed. “Well, yes. But—”

Crowe grumbled, “What’s this?”

Shaw endorsed the check over to the Youngs and handed it to Larry. This is why he had no intention of returning the reward.

“The fuck?” Crowe snapped.

Shaw said to the couple, “Tanner won’t come cheap.”

Emma said, “I know. But we’ll get a bank loan. We can’t accept this.”

Crowe: “They can’t accept it.”

“It’s done,” Shaw said.

Crowe bristled, then seemed to sense this was a battle he could not win. He pointed a finger at Shaw. “I will get you for this, my friend.” He stalked off down the alley.

Larry waved the check. “If there’s any left over—”

“Get Erick some help. Better therapy than he’s had.”

“We will,” Emma whispered.

Shaw wanted to be gone. He said goodbye to the Youngs and walked back to the rental car. In his mind he heard the exchange between Stan Harper and himself.

Then why did my son kill himself?

I don’t know the answer to that.

He now supplemented his response: Not yet.