The Coldest Mile Read Online Free PDF

You should've taken him out with the first blast.
    He was right.
    Now Chase thought of Jonah out there, maybewith his baby girl and maybe not. Angie had left the kid in Sarasota with her sister Milly Chase didn't know anything else except that she was married to a professional surfer. He figured there couldn't be that many professional surfers in Sarasota with wives named Milly.
    He could find the kid one way or another. With the money he hoped to score from the Langans, he figured he had a better choice he could offer the child. Some way to protect her from Jonah, from the kind of life that Chase himself had been drawn into.
    There was nothing else for him to do. Jonah had been right about one thing. Blood was important.
    Lila said, Save the baby.

S tanding at the window, Chase watched the doctor pull up and park at an angle at the side door again, the guy taking a last couple puffs of a cigarette then carefully putting it out against his heel. How would that make a cancer patient feel, seeing his own doc hacking up yellow phlegm and smelling like a second- floor boys’ room.
    After all this time, Chase still had a lot of questions. He wanted to know why his father had said that he'd asked to make an appeal to the killer, when the truth was the cops had backed him into doing it. He wanted to know why his mother had cried so much the night before she died.
    Talking about Jonah, Angie had said, Everyone else he destroys. More than you know.
    And Jonah had said someone else had tried to kill him over a kid.
    Another foolish woman.
    Chase couldn't shake those words. They hummed and buzzed and bit at him.
    He thought, Did Jonah murder my pregnant mother?
    The kid said to find the girl. Lila told him to save the baby. Blood was important. Chase needed to finish taking this score and get on the move.
    Later that morning the suit was delivered to Chase along with a fresh pair of white gloves. He couldn't quite get over it. They really wanted him to wear a chauffeur's uniform.
    The suit fit well. He didn't like the ties Moe Irvine picked out so much and threw on the one he found least offensive. The diamond stickpin caught light like a laser.
    The phone in his room rang. He answered and a curt voice he didn't recognize told him, “Mister Langan and Miss Sherry are to be driven to the First National Bank at 232 Madison Avenue, in Manhattan. Then they shall lunch at Pietro's on West 51st Street.”
    Chase thought, They couldn't tell me that themselves once they got in the back of the limo?
    He walked out to the garage and backed the limo down the drive to where Jackie and his sister stood at the front door looking like they'd been sitting in a funeral director's parlor for hours. The soldiers were milling around, glancing out at the golf course like they wanted to play a couple rounds while Jackie was off in New York. A few more were on the sundeck, their collars open, relaxing in chaise lounges.
    So their well- being was now his responsibility. He wondered how much of all that internal- war shit was true, and if it was, how long it would take for someone to make a real move. Jackie bulldozing his sister, or she popping him? Or Moe Irvine taking out both of them, then going upstairs to whisper in Lenny Langan's ear, “You treated me like shit for thirty years, you prick, now I'm in charge.” Then pulling the dying guy's plug.
    Jackie eyed him up and down, noticed right off that Chase didn't have the hat and gloves on. He said, “Hey, one second here …”
    Chase ignored him and opened the back door of the limo for Sherry Langan. It was a cloudy day but she wore big dark sunglasses. He offered his hand but she didn't take it, climbing in on her own and swinging her legs clear of the door. She stretched them out, her toes pointed, muscles perfectly defined, the skin pale but exquisite. She wasn't showing off for him. She hadn't even looked at him and probably thought he was the dead chauffeur.
    It annoyed him and he didn't know