The Secret of the Stones by Ernest Dempsey (reading fiction .TXT) 📕

got shot at twice this morning. That makes three attacks since I talked to you the other day. No offense, but I am not sure exactly who I can trust at this point.” His voice was emphatic.

“Yeah. I know. I don’t blame you. But if you will meet up with me, maybe I can help you. We can figure it out…” Hesitation lingered in the phone’s receiver. “What did they look like, the guys who were after you?”

There was something muffled on the other line, like Sean was giving directions to someone.

“What?” He clearly didn’t hear the detective’s question.

“I asked what the men who attacked you looked like.”

“I gotta be honest, Trent. I didn’t really stop to take a good look at the guys in the ravine. Probably woulda taken me a few hours and a lot of rope to do that.” Obviously, killing the two passengers in the other car was something Sean felt was justified. “But the other guys later on…yeah, I got a real good look at them. Two of them looked like they were twins, except that one was taller than the other. Both of ‘em had flattop haircuts and wore matching suits like they were some pop star’s bodyguards.”

On a pad of paper he’d removed from his car, Trent was busily taking down a few notes about the men who had supposedly attacked his main suspect. “Anyone else?”

“The guy who was holding Tommy was tall, probably several inches over six feet. He had blond hair. Dressed like he was going to a trendy nightclub or something. Very European.”

This last bit of information came as a bit of a shock. “Did you say a tall, blond European guy?”

“I don’t know if he was European. Just said he dressed like it. You know, like a German or something. I couldn’t get close enough to ask him where he was from or how he came to America.”

Again with the sarcasm, Morris thought. “We had reports of a guy named Jurgenson that was posing as one of our own running around town.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Borringer said that he came by.”

Another shock. “You went to Borringer’s house?”

“Yep.” Sean decided not to share the drama that had unfolded the night before when they had been hidden in the bathroom while the detective was downstairs.

“When was that?”

Ignoring the question, Sean began again, “Look, Detective, all I know is this guy is bad news. I’m not sure if he is the one who is pulling all the strings, but it sure seems probable. If I had to put my money on it, I’d say he was the one that killed Frank.”

“What happened during the firefight with those men?” Morris continued to string the conversation out.

“I put a couple of rounds directly into the flattop twins, right in their chests.”

“They dead?”

“No,” Sean sounded irritated. “Pretty sure they had vests on. Makes me wonder how available those things are to the general public.”

It was a well-known rumor that some less-than-ethical police were selling some of their equipment on the black market to drug dealers and gangsters, something that seemed to happen in nearly every major city. Trent ignored the implication. “I’ll look into it. But there are a lot of places to get those things now days. What about the blond, Jurgenson?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t hit him. He was using Tommy as a human shield.”

“How did they get away?” Morris felt like he was asking a lot of questions, but the longer he kept Wyatt on the line, the easier it would be to triangulate his cell phone signal. He hoped that whoever Will was talking with was working quickly.

“They drove.”

“Of course.” Trent set himself up on that one. “But you don’t know where they were going?”

“Hard to say. We’re trying to figure that out at the moment.” It was a half lie.

Trent paused a moment, trying to think of what to say next. He looked over at Will, who was mouthing that they had not got a location on the signal yet.

“Listen, Sean. Why don’t you meet up with me, and we can try to figure this out together. I’ll meet you wherever,” his voice sounded uncertain, and he was starting to repeat himself.

There was no reaction from the other end of the phone line for a few contemplative seconds. Then, “No can do, Detective. We’re too far away from the city at this point, and we can’t afford to lose any more time. For all we know, they may have killed Tommy and left him in a ditch. I don’t think those people will kill him until they have what it is they are looking for. But I can’t risk it.”

“And what is it that they are looking for?”

“Sorry, Detective. My phone is…what did you…” The connection started cutting out.

“Sean. Can you hear me? Sean?”

“We…mountains…” Then the line went dead.

Trent pounded the phone in his fist. “Did you get the signal?” he looked pleadingly at his partner.

Will shook his head. “No.”

“Why not? It shouldn’t have taken that long.” Morris was boiling at this point.

“I dunno, man. Maybe he has some kind of signal isolator on his phone. But HQ said they were having problems locking onto it.” He stood next to his car with arms open, as if begging for forgiveness.

“It’s not your fault,” Morris sighed.

Sunlight poured down on the two of them as they stood next to their cars, wondering what the next move should be. Suddenly, his phone rang again. “Sean?” he answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.

“Is this Detective Morris?” It was a woman’s voice.

“Yes,” he said dejectedly as his shook his