Storming Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page B

two.”
    Michaels remained silent as Beamon took a slug from his coffee cup. “Okay, Chet, let’s start with number three—you want the kid. Why?”
    “Uh, ransom?”
    Beamon shook his head. “Ransom fits in under financial benefit. No, most often you want the kid because you’re a parent that didn’t get legal custody. Now, Jennifer’s a little old for that kind of nonsense—no one wants to steal a kid they’re going to have to put through college in a couple of years. Besides, weren’t the Davises still on their first marriage?”
    Michaels glanced at the blue file lying in his lap, but didn’t open it. “I think so.”
    “That brings us to subheading number two. You’re some crazy pervert. What do you think? Pervert?”
    Michaels’s eyes scrunched up for a moment. “I doubt it. The facts don’t support the theory that one lone person did this. Sex offenders don’t usually work in teams.”
    “I’ll buy that,” Beamon agreed. “Besides, you told me that this girl races bikes. If I were your garden-variety weirdo, I’d just snag her when she’s all alone on some trail in the woods.”
    Beamon batted away a thick cable hanging from his ceiling and put his feet on his desk. “So, moving right along. Category number two—blackmail. What do you think of that theory.”
    “Can’t blackmail a dead person.”
    ‘“Nuff said. Number one, then. Financial benefit. Ransom?”
    “Not very practical at this point.”
    Beamon grinned. “To say the least. So who benefits from this thing?”
    Michaels leaned forward in his chair and braced his elbows against his knees. “I know what you want me to say, Mark. That Jennifer lined her parents up and shot them so she’d inherit all their money. That she’s gonna show up in a few days with some crazy story about the whole thing.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t feel right to me.”
    Beamon pointed again to the picture of Jennifer in the paper. “Are you kidding? Look at her!”
    Michaels laughed and picked up the paper for a closer inspection. “Come on, Mark. My girlfriend’s got a nose ring. Couple of tattoos, too. Doesn’t meananything. It’s just, you know, fashion.” A wide grin spread across the young agent’s face. “Your parents probably said you looked subversive when you came in with a bunch of grease in your hair and your cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve of your T-shirt.”
    Beamon rolled his eyes. “I’m only forty-three, you little bastard.” He paused for a moment and watched two men in the outer office trying to lift a scaffold over a group of file cabinets. “Okay, it’s not a great theory,” he admitted. “But it’s the best one I can come up with. Could be that this was a botched robbery. The perps had just arrived—didn’t have time to take anything—and the Davises came home. They shoot them, then decide to take the girl for some fun and games.”
    Michaels perked up a bit. “That sounds possible.”
    “I don’t know. A house that you can’t see from the street—you’d have to be watching it. No sign of forced entry would suggest they’re pros. If the Davises had gone to this race and five miles into their trip remembered they left the iron on and come back, I’d say we’ve got a great theory. But they were gone all fucking day. All our friends had to do was slip in after the maid left at five and they’d have had time to clean the place out and watch a ball game on the Davises’ big-screen TV.”
    Somewhere in the office, a table saw started.
    “When are we gonna get a report on the physical evidence and autopsy?” Beamon shouted over the roar of the saw.
    “Should start trickling in tomorrow,” Michaels yelled back.
    “Okay. Keep thinking about it, Chet. We’ve missed something, and I’m briefly perplexed as to what it is.”
    Michaels stood and turned to leave.
    “Oh, and Chet! Tell that guy out there that if he doesn’t shut that saw off, I’m gonna use it to remove his foot.”

5
    A WAVE OF