Ice Shear Read Online Free PDF Page B

messages. “Last text from her was at two forty-eight.”
    Dave held out his hand. “Could I see?”
    Marty held the phone close, hiding the screen. “You got no warrant.”
    â€œYou’re right. But we’re trying to investigate here and, well, it would help.” Marty gripped it tighter for a moment before tossing the phone in Dave’s lap.
    I watched Marty as Dave read the messages. He dropped his face on his forearms, but there was no shaking. No fear. His breathing was normal and his skin was a healthy golden, so no shock. Dave walked the phone to me. A few texts from Danielle, stopping at 3:00 A.M. Marty had sent more texts and called both her and his brother at five thirty and six thirty.
    â€œYou left at six?” Dave asked. “What happened to—”
    â€œNo, see that’s the thing. I ended up staying late because the next guy—guy who’s supposed to take over—called in. Car problems. Asked me to cover until seven, and the asshole didn’t show up until ten. So I called Dani. No answer. Called Ray. He said she was having an early breakfast with her dad.” His leg started jittering. “Did her father do this? He was always trying to . . .” Marty reached out, like he was searching for the word with his hand. “God damn him.”
    Dave kept the information he gave Marty about the Brouillettes vague, saying only that they were in DC.
    â€œBut he could’ve come back. He’s got a plane. He’d do anything to keep Danielle. I mean the first time we met he tried to punch me out.”
    Dave tapped his pad twice. “Could you explain, Marty?”
    â€œI was helping her move out of her apartment in L.A. She and I had become friendly. . . .”
    â€œWhere?” Dave asked.
    Marty faced his bookshelf. He touched four books, and I began to think he wasn’t going to answer. Finally he said, “AA. And before you start thinking all kinds of crazy stuff, you gotta know Danielle was just checking it out. She says she didn’t have a problem, and I believe her.”
    â€œAnd you?”
    Marty moved the Charles Portis so that it came after the George Pelecanos. “I did. Before.” He turned to face us. “I’ve been clean and sober for almost four years.”
    â€œThat’s very cool, man,” Dave said, sincerely. “You should be proud. So tell me more about your run-in with Phil.”
    â€œSo me and a buddy are loading up a truck with stuff to take to her dad’s plane”—he said it nonchalantly, as if everyone had their own plane—“and Danielle and her dad are going at it, him telling her all the things she’s not going to do when she’s back under his roof, blah, blah, blah. And he grabs her, and I put down the dresser I was holding because I got a problem when things get physical.”
    Generally I found that bikers liked nothing more than getting physical. I watched him closely, but didn’t see any tells that he was lying.
    â€œBut Danielle,” Marty continued, “she’s so mad, she’s blazing, and she shakes him off. She looks like she’s going to punch him out, no kidding, throwing up her fists and dropping low, even though she weighed maybe a buck ten. And it’s pretty clear where she learned that move—he’s got the same stance. Craig is standing there with his thumbs up his ass—”
    â€œCraig?” Dave asked.
    â€œYeah, Craig Madigan, the Brouillettes’ pilot. He’s trying to pat Danielle’s shoulder, and Danielle is shaking him off so she can get a better shot at her dad. I’m ready for a punch-up, but instead of screaming at him she just backs up to me and says, sweet as pie, ‘Can I go home with you?’ ”
    Dave didn’t look up from where he was writing. “And you said?”
    â€œI said, ‘Sure thing.’ My stepdad was a fucking bully,