A Guardian Angel Read Online Free PDF Page A

going?” Steven asked as he watched Andy reach for the door
handle.
    “I'm going to
go do some research on Flynn,” Andy stated.
    Again, Steven's
face was constricted in offense. “I'm the data collector,”
he commented.
    Stepping away from
the door, Andy turned to face the man, tightening the muscles in his
face to terrify. To show the killer inside. It was a grimace to make
little schoolgirls out of warriors. Steven shook.
    “If that's
what you call it,” Andy started, releasing each word through
his hissing teeth, “then I demand you do it.” He lurched
forward which set Steven in a defensive pose. “You will waste
neither my time, my patience, nor any more of our employer's finances
sitting about on your ass. Otherwise, I'll walk out this door.”
    Steven's eyes
darted around for something to defend himself with. Andy could see
the fear and discomfort in his pupils. He tried to speak. Fear shook
his voice. “If you do that,” he started, failing to
maintain calm in his tone, “I'll tell Mr. Graves.”
    This stopped Andy
in his menacing thoughts. His face fell soft of the violent intent he
displayed and into true surprise. “That's his name?” he
asked.
    Something
frightened Steven about the man's sudden change of mood than the
previous rage directed at him. He said, “The man with the
plane?” He relaxed when Andy nodded. “Yes. Leroy Graves.”
    Andy was impressed.
He had worked for the man on the plane for almost nine years and
never before had heard his name. When he dared to ask it once, Graves
replied that knowing it jeopardized their work together. Yet this
amateur, as he referred to Steven before, figured it out.
    “How long
have you worked for him?” Andy asked. Curiosity drove his tone
instead of dominance.
    “Five
months,” Steven replied. He seemed unsure what Andy was getting
at.
    Again, Andy was
impressed.
    “I even know
where he lives,” Steven chimed in, realizing that he lifted off
the bad foot that they had started out on. “The name of his
wife. His mistress, where she lives. What kind of car he drives. His
favorite restaurant.”
    “Do you know
what company he represents?” Andy interrupted, seeing now an
opportunity.
    “Yes.”
    “Which?”
    “I can't
say,” Steven said, repositioning himself defensively. He really
did not want to piss off his guest again.
    “Why not?”
Andy was getting upset again.
    “Orders,”
Steven replied. “In fact, I've said too much. Please, Mr.
Summers, don't put me in any worse of a position than I am already
in. Knowing only makes this harder.”
    Andy sighed. He
knew that he couldn't get any more from the man. He paused at the
door. “How did you find all of this out?” he asked.
    “Most of
that, actually, was Google,” Steven replied. “I get one
lead and I keep pulling and pulling until all the roots are torn from
the dirt. Every stone unturned reveals what the world under it looks
like. I will collect every drop of information I can find about a
subject before I can make any assumptions about it. Yes, yes, I know
what I can see with my eyes, but I want to know what a witness has to
say about Haley Flynn. What the Internet has to say. Phone books.
That is where I have to start.”
    Again, Andy sighed. Too quick to anger, he judged himself. Steven proved himself
full of surprises, at least, on this evening. He was right,
considering they dealt with such a sensitive case as this. If he
planned to kill this woman without anyone, even Steven, knowing she
had been murdered, he needed every detail about her that he could
pull together. Something could give himself away without ever
thinking about it if it weren't for the expertise Steven had to offer
him. Something like that could mean the death of him, the only
fitting punishment for a failed killer.
    Steven is going
to save my life, he decided.
    “Come on,”
he said, nodding his head to the door. “Let's research.”

    Andy found himself
thankful to have Steven with him as they drove