Flightfall Read Online Free PDF Page A

I said.
    We broke over a rise and the house appeared. It was stunning. Made of fieldstone like the guardhouse, with a slate roof and shutters painted a dark green. A stone terrace ran the length of the back of the structure, looking out on a lawn and a pond with a fountain.
    A short man clad in tall boots approached as we pulled into the lot. His skin was tan. Black hair was beginning to gray around his temples, but otherwise he looked the picture of health. His mouth curved into a smile. He also had a royal air about him, one that only celebrity could bestow. I recognized him immediately as Ricardo Clayton.
    The three of us stepped out of the Jeep. Toronto and Clayton shook hands.
    “Jake Toronto,” Clayton smiled. “Come down from your lair to mingle with the commoners?”
    “We all have to sometime, I guess,” Toronto said.
    “How true.” He stepped back and clapped his hands as if delighted with his former employee, before regarding Nicole and me. “And who might your associates be? Private investigators, from what I understand.”
    “This is Frank Pavlicek from Charlottesville and his daughter Nicole. Nicole works with her Dad.”
    “Charming. A pleasure to meet both of you.”
    He shook hands with the two of us as well. His grip was firm and radiated confidence, a practiced grip. He clasped my arm lightly with his opposite hand the way a politician might. I would have told him I’d seen him on television or that I enjoyed his books, except it wasn’t true. I’d never read any of the books and I wasn’t about to gush over a TV idol.
    “Frank used to be my partner when I was a cop,” Toronto said.
    “Ahhhh, I see... well what can I do for you people this fine day?”
    “I came to ask you a favor.”
    “A favor? Of course.”
    A woman emerged from the back of the house. At first, she appeared much younger than Clayton, with unblemished skin and blond hair that swept down her back. As she came closer, small, telltale signs that the dermatologist’s laser couldn’t erase revealed she was probably closer to the doctor’s age. But she, too, looked radiant in her health. No casting director could have picked a better couple to advertise their natural health empire.
    “Mr. Pavlicek. Ms. Pavlicek,” Dr. Clayton said. “I’d like you to meet Sylvia, my wife. Jake, I believe you two already know one another.”
    The woman came forward. Like her husband, she was clad in riding boots and skintight pants as well, except that they more favorably displayed her willowy figure. A green windbreaker with an orange and black patch on one sleeve was draped around her shoulders. She slipped to the doctor’s side and he put his arm around her. Her eyes seemed to dissect me as I shook her hand.
    “So you were saying about a favor?” Dr. Clayton looked at Toronto.
    “Right. If you remember, I keep and raise falcons, birds of prey, and the like.”
    “Yes, of course. Beautiful creatures. I gave you permission to hunt on our land. How has it been flying them on our mountain?”
    “Great, thank you. Until yesterday morning, that is. Someone shot my peregrine falcon.”
    “Someone shot your bird on our land?” The doctor let go of his wife and folded his arms.
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Oh, what a shame,” Mrs. Clayton’s hand covered her mouth for a moment in surprise. “I’m terribly sorry. It must be a real loss for you.” Her accent was lightly British and her stare was fixed on Toronto.
    “That’s awful,” Dr. Clayton said.
    “At least I think he was shot. The worst part is, I couldn’t find any trace of him. He flew off on me. I was tracking him but then I lost him. I thought I heard the sound of a round being fired.”
    Which wasn’t entirely true, of course. I looked at Toronto. One of the oldest detective tricks in the book was giving potential suspects false information, something they would have to act on in some way. Was Clayton a suspect? Did Toronto think he was still in contact with his