Free Father of Fear by Ethan Cross Page B

smoker, but it was high and sweet with a slight Southern drawl.
    “I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am. But I can tell you this, it is a substantial amount. We’ve also been told that if we make every reasonable effort to find Joe and are unable to locate him, then the money will default to his closest living relative.”
    Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she looked both of the men up and down. She glanced to the street at the SUV sitting by the curb. She seemed hesitant but must have decided that even the slight prospect of the money outweighed any loyalty she had to her son. She said, “I haven’t seen him in months. But I know the last place he was living.”

Chapter Eighteen

    The opposite side of the glass in the interrogation room was a space that few people ever saw. It reminded Kaleb of a walk-in closet. The interrogation room itself was fifteen by fifteen foot square with off-white walls, a gray metal table, three chairs, and fluorescent lighting humming overhead. The viewing room matched the interrogation room’s length but was only a third of the width. Along one wall, it held a small table supporting a computer monitor and some recording equipment. The rest of the space was dedicated to observation.
    Kaleb leaned against the back wall. Two senior homicide detectives stood with their noses to the glass as an FBI agent questioned Brad Dunham in the interrogation room. Brad, of course, wasn’t a suspect of any kind, but he might have possessed information about why his family had been chosen or he might have seen something that he didn’t even realize was pertinent. The FBI agent handled Brad with skill and consideration, not pushing too hard but deep enough to get the information they needed. Brad was being helpful but was also growing visibly anxious and agitated. Time was running out, and he knew it.
    The door to the observation room opened, and the light stung Kaleb’s eyes. Captain Maria Duran, Kaleb’s mother, walked into the darkness and shut the door behind her. She squinted as her eyes adjusted, and she noticed him in the corner. “What the hell are you doing in here?” she said.
    “He wanted to observe the questioning, boss,” one of the lead detectives said.
    Her gaze didn’t leave Kaleb. “I would think that Detective Duran would have better things to do than stand around. We do have two people about to be killed out there somewhere.”
    Kaleb resisted the urge to rise to her challenge. Instead, he maintained his composure and said, “I’m glad you’re here, Captain. I have an idea that might buy those people some time.”
    “The best way to help them is to do your job.”
    “Fine, but I was thinking that—”
    A commotion in the interrogation room drew the attention of the group. Brad Dunham knocked over his chair and screamed, “I should never have gone to the police! I hope you’re doing more than asking me a bunch of pointless questions!”
    The FBI agent tried to calm him down, but fear had overcome Brad’s sensibilities, and he stormed from the room.
    “Go after him,” Captain Duran said to one of the detectives.
    The detective hurried from the room, and Maria Duran said, “Okay, Kaleb, what’s your big idea?”

Chapter Nineteen

    The address that Colwell’s mother had given them led to a two-story white colonial. It was the kind of place that would have made a nice home fifty years ago and with a little help from someone who enjoyed working with their hands could be nice again. In its current state, it was the perfect place for someone like Joe Colwell to hide.
    Marcus pulled the Suburban up to the curb across the street and two houses down. Then they watched the property for a half-hour, searching for any signs of life. Unfortunately, time wouldn’t permit a stakeout.
    “Go around to the back. I’ll come at him from the front. We’ll go in fast and hard on my signal,” Marcus said.
    They each stuck small flesh-colored radio receivers in their ears, and Andrew