Shadow Account Read Online Free PDF Page A

“You understand?”
    “I
understand
.” Conner cut the connection as the cop turned onto Ninety-fifth. “This is it,” he said, pointing at the building.
    Minutes later he and the two officers were standing in the hallway outside his apartment door.
    “This one?” the small one asked.
    Conner nodded, surprised that the door was closed. It had been wide open behind the man in the living room. The image was still vivid in Conner’s mind. The intruder wouldn’t have had time to shut it and be so close behind him on the fire escape.
    He stepped forward and tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. He pulled out his key and slid it into the lock.
    “Get back,” the big cop ordered, drawing his gun. “Move over there,” he growled, motioning toward the opposite wall.
    Conner stepped back as the small cop turned the key, then pushed open the door and burst inside. When both policemen had disappeared, Conner followed, at first unable to comprehend. The living room was in perfect order. The bookcase was in its original position, beside the television—turned on without volume—and opposite the couch. His Phenix Capital notebooks were on the shelves, and the couch and chair cushions looked as good as new.
    “My God,” he whispered.
    “I thought you said the place was destroyed.”
    “It was,” Conner snapped, hurrying toward the bedroom.
    Same scene there. The computer was back on his desk, hard drive reinserted. All of the desk and bureau drawers had been put back and the phone was on the nightstand, the cradle’s cord plugged into the wall. The voice-mail indicator blinked a red
1
. Gavin Smith’s message.
    This was impossible.
    Conner moved into the room, an eerie sensation crawling up his spine as he neared the desk. Liz’s body was gone. So was the spreading pool of blood.
    “Christ,” Conner muttered. “What the—?”
    “Listen, buddy, we’ve got more important things to do than chase false alarms.”
    Conner turned to face the big cop who stood in the doorway. He’d replaced his gun in its holster. “I swear to you—”
    “If this is some kind of insurance scam, I’ll run you in.”
    “That’s not what’s going on.”
    “All clear,” the small one announced, appearing at the bedroom doorway. “And it’s neat as a pin in here.”
    The big cop glared at Conner. “We’re outta here. I suggest you get a good night’s sleep. You look like you could use it.”
    When they were gone, Conner walked around the bed past the desk to the corner of the room. He knelt down and stared at the spot where Liz’s body had been. Touching the hardwood floor, searching for any traces of blood. But there was nothing.
    He shook his head and moved to the desk, turning on the computer. He wasn’t going to stick around long, but there were two things he wanted to check before he cleared out.
    When the computer had warmed up, he opened his e-mail. The message from Rusty was gone. He clicked on the “Deleted Items” option. Gone from there, too. But he still remembered the sender’s AOL address, which was probably what the intruder was worried about and why he’d tried to gun Conner down after killing Liz. Conner grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down the address.
    When he’d put the paper in his wallet, he turned off the computer, then hurried to the kitchen and pulled a small bowl down from on top of the refrigerator. It was the sugar bowl Liz used for her morning coffee. His hands shook slightly as he placed it on the kitchen table and removed the top, digging into the smooth white crystals until his fingers struck gold.
    Slowly he removed Liz’s engagement ring. She always stashed it here so she’d be sure to remember it over her morning coffee. He blew a few granules from the band and held it up. The three carats sparkled in the rays of the overhead bulb.

3
    Lucas Avery was loyal to the president only by extension. Only because he was unfailingly loyal to the party, and the president was one