Walk in Darkness - A Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

I want you to do. Right now. Take your badge and throw it out the window right now, Jon. Then pack your things and come home to your family. We can figure out everything else as we go.”
    He looked back and saw his badge on the coffee table. “I . . .”
    “I know, Jon. I know.” She sighed. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”
    “Okay.”
    She hung up and he put the cell phone down, not taking his eyes off his badge. He walked to it and picked it up, running his fingers across the lettering. He walked to the balcony and held it over the edge. He looked down to the pavement below and then back at the badge. The ocean was out in front of him and he saw that the two bonfires had died out and the party at Vanessa’s beach house was now packed with guests, cars lining the road around the house.
    He went back inside and looked at his badge before throwing it on the couch. He shut his balcony door and went to bed.
     

 
    10
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Stanton came in to the precinct early and already the noise was near shouting level. There was a drunk by the entrance in cuffs yelling about police brutality, behind him an old man that had wet himself, urine running down his leg.
    Stanton walked to the front desk and saw Vickie starting her shift with a cup of Irish coffee, a small flask hidden in a pocket of her gym bag that she brought every day. He’d caught her filling it once and never said anything to anyone and she had liked him ever since.
    “Who’s the old man over there?” he said.
    “One of Childs’ cases. He walked into a church and went to the pulpit and started masturbating. No ID or anything on him.”
    “He doesn’t look like he knows what’s going on. Have you checked with missing persons?”
    “For what?”
    Stanton glanced down to her coffee cup and noticed there was little coffee in it. “Nevermind.”
    He walked over to the old man and knelt down to eye level. “Hello.”
    “Hi,” the old man said.
    “Do you know where you are?”
    “I’m . . . I’m visiting my nephew. I’m visiting my nephew in Fort Lauderdale and he told me to come here and pick up his sister. That’s why I need to get my keys.” He looked around the precinct. “I don’t see him here but the man took my keys. The big black man took my keys.”
    “Do you know your name?”
    He thought for a moment and then a smile parted his lips. “Lawrence, um, Lawrence . . . I don’t, it’s Lawrence.”
    “Okay, Lawrence, you stay right here for a minute.”
    Stanton walked back to his office. He sat at his desk and tried Childs’ phone but no one answered. He called down to missing persons.
    “San Diego PD how may I direct your call?”
    “Is this Sandy? It’s Jon Stanton.”
    “Johnny! Hey, how are you?”
    “I’m good, how you doing?”
    “Fine. You know we bought a house right?”
    “No I didn’t know that. Congrats.”
    “Thanks. We were thinking we’d have you and Melissa and the boys over some time.”
    Stanton felt a small shock through his body, as if he’d been stung. “Yeah, anytime. Um, I’m calling on business though.”
    “What’s up?”
    “Got a guy here, looks to be in his seventies, maybe even eighties, says his name’s Lawrence. I don’t know if that’s a first or last name, but someone would have reported him missing in the last twenty-four hours. I was going to check with MP but maybe you could just pull it up for me?”
    “Of course, hang on . . . okay, we got a Thomas Welch Lawrence, reported missing this morning from La Jolla.”
    “What’s his date of birth?”
    “Um, July 2, 19 42. That’s gotta be him.”
    “Call back whoever reported it and tell them he’s here.”
    “Gotchya.”
    “Thanks, Sandy.”
    “You’re welcome. Later.”
    “Bye.”
    Stanton turned and pulled out the three files again and placed them on his desk when Childs walked in.
    “What the hell you doin’ here so early?”
    “Cleaning up your baggage. Old man out there is Tom