Line of Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

get a flat," he finally said.
    "It wasn't an accident." Frank pushed his door open and got out to look at the tire.
    "What do you mean?" Joe jumped out and ran around the back to join him.
    "It had help." Frank pointed at the wreckage of the tire. "This is where it tore apart — see this hole here."
    Joe leaned forward. "Looks like a bullet hole."
    "Exactly." Frank's face was grim. "I thought I saw a flash of red in the mirror."
    "A laser sight? You mean Denny?"
    "He's not the only one in town with that kind of sight," Frank said. "There's the guy who played target practice all around our heads."
    "Denny is the only one we know," Joe pointed out. Then he shook his head. "But Denny didn't know where we were going. Anyway, he'd never do something like that." "And all the way into town, I had one eye on the rear-view mirror. I'd have noticed if anyone was following us."
    "So we're dealing with a deadly marksman who reads minds—or — "
    "Or?" Frank said.
    "Crowell's butler, George. He left after we came into the room, and we didn't see him on the way out. And he was toting a gun as big as a cannon under his jacket."
    Frank nodded. "He'd know which way we'd be heading. And that curve in the road is just a short walk from Crowell's mansion." He sighed. "But even if he did shoot at us, he's probably back home by now—with a perfect alibi."
    "You're right." Joe kicked the dead tire. "So how can we prove it, one way or the other?"
    "We might put a word in Con Riley's ear. So he can check him out."
    "Good idea." Joe grinned. Then his grin slipped. "But I bet that George's actions aren't going to be easy to trace."
    Frank shrugged. "We can hope." Then he kicked the dead tire too. "We'd better change this and see about fixing the damage we did. After that, I want to give Callie a call at the Times."
    Callie didn't have good news. "Liz is giving me her investigative reporter act. She doesn't want to reveal her information or her source."
    Frank sighed. "We know her source, and the information will probably be in tomorrow's paper."
    "Maybe not. The reporters aren't having an easy time checking out all of the things Denny's saying. And since he's saying things about Lucius Crowell, they've got to be careful. It might not be a libel suit, but he can get at the paper through the advertisers. However, as a politician and public figure he's in a tight spot — he can't sue for libel because all Denny's doing is challenging his record."
    "Keep trying, Callie. We'll poke around, too."
    Frank hung up the mobile phone. "We have some offices to hit. They're going to be closing soon."
    The state and federal offices were pretty disappointing. "The files on Crowell Chemical and the disaster are pretty thin," Frank complained.
    "Just as well," Joe said as he thumbed through copies. "The gibberish that's here is more than enough for me."
    "They had safety plans," Frank said, putting aside a small pile of papers. "And construction permits. But I can't find out what they were storing in the plant at the time of the disaster. The company's records were lost in the fire. And even these waste permits really don't tell us a lot."
    He tossed the papers from his seat. "There are clues here, hints. I can guess some of the chemicals that might have been there, but that's all it is, pure guesswork. If this is all Denny's got, I don't know what kind of a case he'd have. Unless Crowell was storing them illegally. Without proof, though, Denny is never going to convince anyone of his accusations."
    "Maybe there's more at the town office," Joe suggested. "After all, the town people would be the closest to the disaster."
    Frank nodded. "And under Jack Morrison, they were the most crooked."
    "Maybe Crowell isn't as clean as he'd like people to think."
    But when they arrived at the Bayport town hall, they found a small crowd of news people gathered outside.
    "What's going on here?" Joe asked the group.
    "They're waiting for a press statement," a voice from behind them