Thread of Innocence (Joe Tyler Mystery #4) by Jeff Shelby Page B

Landon. “Try it.”
    I looked from him to Landon. “Sure you don't wanna tell her I'm here? Before we do this? Because there's a good chance you won't be able to speak when we're done and then I'll probably just walk inside.”
    Landon smiled and shook his head, wiggled his hands at his sides. “Mister, I don't know...”
    I hit him with a hard right cross, then jammed my foot into his knee, pushing the joint in the direction it wasn't meant to go. He screamed and crumpled to the street. The shorter one jumped at me, but I already had my arm up, waiting on him. I caught him by the throat and shoved him. He stumbled to the side and I did the same thing to his knee that I'd done to Landon's. He fell backwards to the asphalt. Both were clutching their knees, rolling around like turtles on their shells.
    I went to step past Landon and he reached for my ankle. I shook his hand loose, pivoted and kicked him in the jaw, my instep coming up right under his chin. His head snapped back and he went over like  a bag of sand.
    “I told you you might not be able to talk,” I said, then looked at the shorter one. “You gonna try something stupid?”
    He was still clutching his knee, tears streaming from his eyes, but he managed to shake his head.
    “Probably the ACL and the MCL,” I said, pointing at the knee. “You'll need surgery. You get up off the ground and I guarantee you you'll need surgery on both of your knees.”
    I left them there writhing in the street.

TWENTY
     
     
    The front door was askew and I knocked on the doorframe as I took a step inside. The floor was covered in white tile and the white-washed walls were peppered with what looked to me like expensive artwork. There was a small table in the entry way and I could see into the living room off to my right. Two small leather sofas, a flat screen TV and a square glass coffee table. Everything was neat and orderly and expensive looking.
    A small, compact woman entered from the other side of the living room. Long dark hair swept up in a neat bundle on top of her head, wearing faded jeans and a purple T-shirt, her feet bare. She wore little makeup and was free of the fake tan the two I'd left in the street sported. She was maybe ten years older than me and she immediately looked wary.
    “ Can I help you?” she asked, stopping short of the glass table, keeping all of the furniture in between us.
    “ Are you Janine Bandencoop?” I asked.
    She didn't answer immediately, as if she was weighing her options. But then too much time passed and we both knew she was Janine Bandencoop and she couldn't deny it.
    “Yes,” she said. “You are?”
    “ Joe Tyler,” I said, then gestured back toward the front door. “Whomever the two were that met me out front are lying in the street. Both will need a doctor.”
    Concern settled on her face and she took a step toward the table. “What? My sons?”
    “I guess,” I said. “I asked if you were home. They lied and said you weren't. It went downhill after that.”
    “ I'm calling the police,” she said.
    “ Please do,” I said. “I'm guessing we'll need them eventually, anyway.”
    She didn't move for a phone. “Who are you?”
    “I told you,” I said. “I want to know if you were involved in my daughter's abduction from Coronado Island in San Diego.”
    Her thin eyebrows attempted to furrow together in concern but it took her a fraction too long. “I don't know who you are or what you're talking about. I want you out of my home right now.”
    I didn't move, just stared at her, my expression impassive.
    “ And I want to see my sons,” she said.
    “ You wanna see them?” I held up a finger. “Hang on.”
    I went back out the front door and they were both where I'd left them. I grabbed Landon by the foot on the leg I hadn't mangled. I looked at his brother.
    “I'm taking him inside,” I said. “You stay here. Got it?”
    He nodded, grimacing, still hugging his knee.
    I tugged on Landon's leg and he moaned,