Dev Conrad - 03 - Blindside by Ed Gorman Page B

on top of this bed was a manila envelope that had been folded in half and wrapped tight with gray duct tape. I would have been more excited if the rat droppings hadn’t suffused my senses and made me want to throw up.
    I reached in and grabbed the package and crammed it into my suit coat pocket and then I did myself the favor of shutting the trapdoor again. This time I had no trouble getting the refrigerator back in place.
    Then I heard the footsteps. The one and only Pierce was paying Jenny another love visit. The dear.
    This time he’d brought his anger with him.
    â€˜You let me in right now, babe. I’m not stupid. I know somethin’s goin’ on in there.’
    â€˜I was just going to the bathroom, Pierce. God. I’m about done here anyway. I’ll be out in a minute.’
    â€˜No. I wanna come in and get this thing over with. Ya know what I’m sayin’?’
    She was frantic, gaping around as if she was lost and the roof was about to collapse on her in a second or two. There was only one way out and if we were seen, so be it.
    I waved to her.
    â€˜Just a minute, Pierce. Just let me put my lipstick on.’
    â€˜No sense in that, babe. I’ll be takin’ it right off anyway.’ I imagined he was winking to himself as he said that.
    I pointed to the bedroom and she nodded.
    Many of these older windows have been painted shut. Fortunately, this wasn’t one of them. I got it about halfway up which was good enough. I helped Jenny through first and then I climbed through myself. I slid the window shut behind me and we began clanking our way down on a fire escape so old it swayed like an amusement ride.
    When we were in the rental and driving away, I said, ‘Pierce is going to be pissed.’
    â€˜â€œPierce.”’ I heard his wife call him Lou one night.’
    â€˜Figures.’
    â€˜You find anything?’
    â€˜Something. I don’t know what it is yet.’
    â€˜Poor Jimmy. The last time I saw him, he was wearing that stupid Captain America jacket I bought him.’ She sounded as if she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. She made a sound that was a mixture of both.
    We drove back to the hotel in silence. She found a radio station that was apparently all rap all the time. I had my Glock in the glove compartment. I wanted to kill that station real, real good.
    After I pulled into the hotel parking lot, I said, ‘You’ve been a big help.’
    â€˜Will you let me know what you found?’
    â€˜I will.’ But I didn’t say when.
    â€˜By the way, I saw his aunt or whatever she was at the press conference. She’s hilarious.’
    â€˜That seems to be the consensus.’
    She started to slide out the door. ‘My mother said that my father wrote Burkhart a thousand-dollar check last night and so did most of the people at the country club. I hope you can nail his ass. He’s even creepier than Pierce.’
    I smiled. ‘You mean Lou?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ she said and was gone.
    As I was driving back to campaign headquarters I passed a billboard that came to me with the force of a religious revelation.
    There she was in living black and white. Burkhart had his arm around her and it was only appropriate. The copy read: ‘Help me and my wife take our country back.’ BURKHART FOR CONGRESS .
    It was the woman I’d seen snapping photos of Jim Waters.

ELEVEN
    I got a cup of coffee at a Starbucks’ drive-through and then sat in the parking lot taking the duct tape off the package with my pocket knife. Was this what Jim Waters had died for? Had he been given the chance to tell his killer where it was? Or had the killer simply meant to kill him and wasn’t concerned with this small taped package? Then again – long shot – there was the possibility of a random killing.
    I got it open. Inside the package was another package. This was wrapped in plain brown paper. But from the