Free The 13th Target by Mark de Castrique Page B

hit the tee, sometimes actually connect with the ball. When that happened, everybody moved, no matter where the ball went, and it was a race to see whether any baseman could catch a throw before the batter ran past him. Both teams must have been nearing the total in The Guinness Book of Records for most in-field home runs.
    Mullins sat with Josh on his knee, giving a dramatic play-by-play interspersed with tickles. Luke played with a toy truck in the dirt at the foot of the bleachers despite Don’s encouragement for him to watch the game.
    At the end of the third inning, Sidney Levine walked from his car where he’d been watching the stands. Rusty Mullins had told him he’d be there with his grandson, and he’d be wearing a Washington Nationals cap. He didn’t tell him he’d be sitting with a friend. Sidney waited, expecting Mullins to take a walk or find some other way to distance himself from the other spectators. Finally, he figured Mullins wasn’t planning on giving him enough time to warrant leaving his seat.
    Don Beecham caught the man’s movement out of the corner of his eye and reflexively grabbed Luke as he stepped near the boy.
    “Mr. Mullins?” Sidney asked.
    “Hi, Sidney,” Mullins said warmly. “How have you been?”
    For a second, Sidney was surprised by the greeting that made him and Mullins buddies. He quickly determined Mullins wanted this to play out as a chance meeting. “Good.” He nodded to Josh. “Somebody got a big brother in the game?”
    “Nah, we’re just out on a lark. You got a boy playing?”
    “My nephew,” Sidney improvised. “I can’t stay for the whole game, but I wanted to make sure he saw me.”
    “Good for you.”
    “Listen, I hate to bother you. I know it’s been a tough week, but I’ve got a question about something that’s come up with my job. That is, if you’ve got a moment.”
    Mullins lifted Josh and set him beside Don. “Do you mind watching him? I don’t want to bore people with shop talk during such an exciting game.” Then he gestured toward Sidney. “Excuse me. This is Sidney. Sidney, Don.” Without giving them time to engage in more than a nod, he leaned over to Josh. “You stay with Mr. Beecham. Paw Paw’s got to talk to the nice man.” He stood and turned to Don. “We’ll be in the parking lot if you need me.”
    Mullins took command, walking briskly toward his car.
    Sidney hurried to catch him. “Why the charade?”
    “Don works for the Federal Reserve.”
    “Oh.” He took the fact as ample reason for Mullins’ actions.
    Mullins leaned against the door of his Prius. “So, why are we here? Why couldn’t we do this over the phone?”
    Sidney reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a paperback. “For one thing I wanted to give you this. More importantly, there’s no substitute for sizing up each other face to face.”
    Mullins took the book and glanced at the title. The Secret Revolution of 1913—How Bankers Stole America! The author was Joseph Sidney Levine. Mullins thought of the book Amanda Church had purchased for him at Barnes and Noble. “Is this your version of Betrayal at Jekyll ? Are you claiming the Federal Reserve is quote, ‘one of the most corrupt institutions this world has ever known.’”
    Sidney gave an appreciative nod. “You’re already doing your homework.”
    “Not really. Somebody gave it to me yesterday. Is your book like it?”
    “Tamer. Less on the conspiratorial approach and more on the economic consequences of a central bank basically running with little oversight. But I had The Washington Times byline to my credit which got me a mainstream publisher, not a POD.”
    “POD?”
    “Print-on-demand. Those are books that are printed only when a copy is ordered. It’s used by self-publishers or when the print run has gotten so small that printing one at a time is more practical.”
    “Detective Sullivan called me last night.”
    Sidney smiled. “I thought he might. Did he tell you I was