Project Northwest Read Online Free PDF

jumped into the
driver’s seat and started the Honda Accord. Although the high of
the day was in the mid to upper forties, the temperature had
quickly dropped to forty as the sun began to set. They sat and
waited for the engine to warm up, both eagerly wanting to crank up
the heat.
    Her current favorite CD, The Best of
Concrete Blonde, spun in the CD player and began playing across
the speakers. Neither thought to change it or eject it as they both
loved the gut-wrenching lyrics and the powerful vocals of CB’s lead
singer, Johnette. Unknown to them, they were unable to change the
CD. They couldn’t even eject it or listen to the radio. Wright’s
technician made her radio play all Concrete Blonde all day
long.
    James checked the contents of the glove box
and was glad to see a flashlight. He quickly examined the rest of
the interior. Nothing out of the ordinary. A couple of empty
Starbucks coffee cups, a basket of her laundry in the back seat
along with her Information Technology college books, and then he
saw it, a little black dot stuck to the bottom of the mirror.
    He motioned to Bridget and guided her eyes to
the small device and she immediately knew it didn’t belong. This
was her first new car and she knew it like the back of her hand.
She nodded in confirmation, still unsure why an employee
investigator would go to this length to investigate a car accident.
The questions were stacking up in a queue in her mind.
    The temperature drop had slowed and was
hovering near a chilly 39 degrees. As soon as the car’s heater
kicked in, the Honda was in drive and Bridget was off, a quick left
onto 8th Avenue.
    James noticed the black Tahoe with blacked
out windows as Bridget turned on to 8th Avenue because its fog
lights were turned on and windows rolled down. He could see the
silhouette of the driver and someone in the passenger seat. It
appeared to be Mr. Wright, but he wasn’t certain. He made a mental
note of the fog lights and their placement on the vehicle. He was
sure it was them and they obviously wanted him to know they were
there. He just didn’t know who ‘ they ’ were. He instantly
knew he was doing the right thing. He kept thinking he had to keep
his friends close and his enemies closer—he needed to find out who
he was up against, he needed to find a way out.
    Bridget made a quick right onto Pine. James
looked back, pretended to be collecting something from the back
seat and saw the Tahoe tailing them. He eyed the laundry basket and
came up with a quick idea. He told Bridget that he was thirsty and
to pull into the next convenience store.
    James was constantly checking behind them—all
along Pine the Tahoe followed at a distance. Then moments after
Bridget’s turn onto Union, the Tahoe appeared five vehicles back.
Bridget was getting excited by the notion of it all, the cloak and
dagger tone, but surprised they went to this detail over a little
weed. The music coming across the car speakers only heightened the
experience. “Okay, we can stop at N & W Shell near my job.
That’s the nearest one I can think of, unless you want to back
track to Madison. Or I can get you a juice from The Lounge.”
    “The one near your job is fine. Let’s do it
after you get your work schedule.”
    By the time Concrete Blonde’s “Scene of a
Perfect Crime” was playing, she was pulling into a little known
alley street off Union. The Tahoe slowed as it drove by, then
continued on Union, James lost sight of it and was somewhat
thankful to see it go by and disappear.
    Bridget opened the driver’s door, put on her
coat, and was on her way to The Lounge before James whistled to get
her attention. He got out holding up her purse. She rushed back to
him.
    Five months earlier, on Christmas Day of all
days, the purse was the subject of their first argument, not an
argument really, but a clash of minds. The purse was a Chloe
knockoff that she purchased on the internet for herself as a
Christmas present. It was a decent knockoff,