The Guardian Read Online Free PDF

underneath. Ross was recovering from a crash during a rally race in Washington’s Capitol State Forest. His knee was in a cast; they said the surgery had been successful. But his knee still hurt like hell, and his sponsor had just informed him that they wouldn’t be renewing their contract. “Are you going to live?” Greg had asked.
    Ross had nodded, unable to speak. He was shocked at how much it hurt to hear his father was gone, even though they hadn’t even talked since Greg and Beth’s wedding two years before. “Yeah,” he’d said, finally.
    “Good. You finish the high school equivalency?”
    Ross nodded.
    “Then come back and help me start something. A business I want to tell you about. You can make some money, go back to college nights, maybe.” Greg had put his hand out. “Come on back home. Stay alive.”
     
    Ross wiped the gun off with a cloth. It was clean now, but he still wasn’t sure of how well it would shoot. And while there was no doubt in his mind that he owed his brother, Ross still had no idea how far he was willing to go with that gun.
     
     

 
    Chapter 6
     
     
    Ross watched Greg talk on the phone, trying to make the deal happen. Sweat beaded his forehead, and Ross wished he could close his ears to the edge of panic that was coming through.
    He asked Allie if they’d had any success.
    “Not really. Geiler’s out of town and won’t be back in the office until early afternoon. They won’t give us his number. The general manager of CableTech Systems is on vacation; ditto with him. We’ve gotten through to only three of the other people who’d made offers in the past, and none of them were in a position to commit so fast.”
    “Not surprising.”
    Greg slammed the phone down. “No one can comprehend the idea of moving so quickly! And who can blame them? This isn’t how it’s done.” Greg began pacing. “Maybe we can give this guy something down. Get the ten thousand and tell him it’ll just take some more time; give him that tonight.”
    “And let him keep her?” Beth said.
    “What’s the choice!” Greg rubbed the back of his neck. “The guy can’t understand what he’s asking! Maybe it’ll appease him.”
    Ross went out to the truck and got the postcard Crockett had sent him months before, when he first got out on parole. Ross sat on the open tailgate and dialed Crockett’s number. The receiver was picked up at the other end, but no one said anything.
    “It’s Ross,” he said.
    “You finally getting around to answering your mail?” Crockett said.
    Ross thumbnailed the situation quickly, and asked Crockett for an introduction.
    Crockett sighed, hearing what Ross had to say. “That sucks. It really does.” He hung up, and then it was Ross’s turn to wait for the phone. Crockett got back after a long ten minutes and said, “Yuh. He’ll see you. Bring the deed, pictures of the place, but don’t get your hopes up. Guys like him don’t make their money on vacation homes.” He gave Ross an address on Hanover Street in the North End of Boston.
     
    Tommy Datano looked at the pictures. He looked at the deed, the property assessment, the property lines. He listened to Ross’s story about the previous offers.
    He listened to why they were selling the property now and shook his head sadly. “Ugly business. No wonder you’re so desperate.” He was a small, dark man, with wire-rimmed glasses. “Believe me, with your being a friend of Crockett’s I’d help you recover your niece directly. But none of my associates are involved, this sounds like someone just making a grab.” Behind Ross, there were half a dozen people waiting in chairs, waiting as Ross had done, agonizing over the hour he’d wasted so far.
    Datano called over his accountant, a white-haired man with a suit covered with cigarette ash. The accountant wheezed slightly as he went through the documents, his blunt finger sliding over each of them carefully. Finally, he said, “You already got a nice