Page 135 of The List

“You and your brother going to be able to get to work?” Hank asked, heading for the pickup.

“We’ll hitch a ride.”

He opened the Mustang’s door and tossed his coat inside. “Hank, call me when you get a place. I’ll check on the family while I’m out.”

He climbed in, roared the engine to life, and raced from the trailer down the dirt lane.

11:00A.M.

LEE SEETHED.“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE GONE?”

He and De Florio were back in the main conference room. Hughes had finally joined them.

“A boat was waiting. The company boat had been tampered with,” De Florio said.

“This is not good, Jon,” Hughes said. “Not good at all.”

Lee ignored him. He’d tried to get him to be at the meeting with Brent Walker earlier but the idiot overslept. “They must be found.”

“I realize that. But no error on our part let them get away.”

“No, just an underestimation.”

“Perhaps,” De Florio admitted, tone begrudging. “I’m going to review the entire files on Reed and Walker. What I had thismorning were only excerpts. That information could point us on the right path to find them.”

He was not concerned with particulars.

“Find them, Jon. And quick.”

BRENT WASTED NO TIME GETTING BACK TOHIGHWAY 16A.BUT SINCEhe couldn’t be sure of where De Florio’s associates might be lurking, the open expanse made him nervous. He had to make a stop at home and hoped that all the players on the other side were busy at the mill. What had Bozin written?Jon De Florio oversees the program. There are two associates who work under him, however no one, other than De Florio, knows anything about them.He knew where De Florio and one associate were, the problem came from not knowing where the other was located. He had to bet that person was not watching the Walker house.

He drove back into town and, instead of parking in the driveway or even on the street, he left the car a block over and walked through the neighbors’ yards to his parents’ house. He knew nearly all of them and no one was around at this time of day. He made it to the garage and slipped inside, locating the envelope with the originals Bozin had entrusted to him with and hustling back to the car.

He then drove out of town, turning west off the medianed four-laned highway, retracing the same route taken three weeks ago when he first returned to Concord. He moved fast, but tried to keep to the posted speed limit. The southernmost shore of Eagle Lake paralleled for a long time, water peeking in and out from among thick stands of trees. Finally, he left the lake behind, crossing the Ogeechee and entering Bulloch County, the image from the road sign—WELCOME TO WOODS COUNTY, POPULATION 12,894—fading in the rearview mirror. At the familiar fork in the road, instead of veering south toward I-16, he sped for Statesboro.

Twenty minutes later he entered downtown and headed straight to a squatty brick building markedUNITED STATES POST OFFICE. He parked the Mustang out front and retrieved the envelope from the passenger’s seat. Inside, a large wall clock read 11:58A.M.His mother should have made it to his uncle’s by now.

He approached the counter and asked the clerk for an express mail pouch. He carried it to another counter and addressed the label to his former boss, the Fulton County district attorney. On the outside of the brown envelope Bozin gave him, he wrote

Please put this envelope in a safe place and keep it there until you hear from me. Tell no one about it and do not open it. If something happens to me, get it to the police immediately. I know this sounds cryptic, but you’re the only one I can count on right now. I’ll be in touch.

He signed his name and, into the envelope, which already contained Bozin’s handwritten notes and the flash drive, he stuffed the copy of the list Reed had provided. Using the roll of tape on the counter, he sealed the envelope shut. He slid it inside the express mail pouch and gave it to the clerk, paying the overnight fees in cash.

He stepped outside.

Morning sunlight was rapidly being extinguished by black clouds invading from the east. He breathed a little easier. At least now, no matter what happened, the information would be safe. He knew he could count on his old boss to deal with the situation and, hopefully, De Florio and his henchman wouldn’t think to look anywhere near Atlanta.

He needed to check on his mother and Ashley. A heavy sense of paranoia had overtaken him. Understandable, given the circumstances. So he decided to add another layer of security to the effort. It couldn’t hurt. Across the street was a State Farm insurance office. He walked over and asked the lady inside if he might make a call. He displayed his cell phone and said it had died. She was friendly and understanding, allowing him to use an extensionin an empty office. There, he dialed the number for his uncle Erik. To his relief, his mother had arrived. She’d also brought Ashley and Lori Anne.

“I did what you asked, son. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I wish I could,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But for right now you’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Ashley is in a panic.”

“Let me talk to her.”

“Brent,” Ashley said, coming immediately on the line. “What the hell’s happening? Are you okay?”