The Moses Riddle (Thomas McAllister 'Treasure Hunter' Adventure Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

put his best team on McAlister. He followed the Discovery back down the same road, four miles past Nightingale, to a five-star resort called the Camelback Inn. DJ followed McAlister down a narrow winding asphalt paths, until McAlister pulled into the driveway of a detached cabana. Cabana Nine. McAlister got out and went inside.
DJ was furious with the surveillance team, but euphoric at his luck. He drove past Cabana Nine and left Elmo in the car while he walked to the front desk. He showed his FBI badge, and asked who was staying in Cabana Nine.
“That would be Miss Havenport, sir.”
“Do you know the man staying with her?”
“We don’t inquire, sir.”
“She paid cash?”
“She hasn’t paid yet, sir. She’ll pay when she checks out.”
“And when is Miss Havenport scheduled to check out?”
“Tomorrow morning, sir.”
“Thanks.” DJ smiled as he walked out. He had the bastard. Smart guy, this archeologist. But he had him! Now that McAlister thought he was safe, his guard would be down. His mistake would make it even easier for DJ to move in and steal the treasure. It almost assured him of a successful final case before retiring, and because of its importance, and its ties to the White House, it probably meant a high-level commendation as well. Things couldn’t have worked out better.
CHAPTER 4
    The leader of the on-site surveillance team, Scott Caffrey, watched from inside the house as two men got out of the Ford Taurus and began walking to the front door. He knew them both well. DJ, with his whitegray hair and knowing eyes, wore a silver Rolex on his left wrist that accentuated his rough, deeply tanned skin. Scott could see the Colt .45 automatic that he wore on his belt. And Scott could tell by the pinched look on DJ’s face and his brisk pace that he was not happy.
    Close behind, taking hurried steps, was Elmo. Short and thin with greasy hair and Woody Allen glasses, Elmo carried a small black case. His black hair was parted on the side and his clothes were simple. Scott already knew that Elmo wouldn’t say a word to anyone the entire time he was in the house. The other commandos had already learned to ignore him. They knew he would come in a nervous wreck and wouldn’t relax until he had his computer plugged into an electrical outlet and his modem into a phone line.
    DJ came in and sat on one of the large leather chairs in the living room. He could tell that McAlister was gone by the way the men were scurrying around the house. The team was already looking for clues as to how he got out and where he may have gone: maps, scraps of paper with phone numbers, creases in phone books, etc. There would be hundreds of things to check.
    DJ let out a deep breath. He examined his fingers, pursed his lips, and shook his head. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the back of the chair, and said, “Scott, give me the report. Here’s the order I want it in: estimate of when he left, how he got out, and clues as to where he’s headed. Go.” DJ kept his eyes closed as he listened.
    “We still don’t know when he got out, sir. We’re checking everything, current water temperature at all the faucets, temperature of the mattress springs, humidity levels in the bedroom and bathroom, trash bins, everything. Nothing yet. He definitely went out one of the basement windows. It’s open, the screen is off and he didn’t bother to close it behind him. As for where he’s headed? No clue yet. At this point that’s all . . . .”
    DJ opened his eyes, leveled an obsidian stare, and held up his hand, stopping Scott cold. He said, “Scott, the open window, it’s in back right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Here’s what happened. McAlister went out the back basement window very early this morning, while it was raining. Your man in back didn’t pick him up because looking through night vision binoculars when the rain is warm is like shining a flashlight on a green blanket in the dark. If McAlister crawled slowly he would’ve