The Angriest Angel

Chapter 16

Aged maple trees throughout the neighborhood were beginning to bud with the coming of spring, and the occasional gust of strong southerly wind trumpeted the message that the seasons were changing.  Despite the late hour, the wind was warm, and as Chase opened his front door he knew with certainty that he would not sleep.

It was close to midnight when Avery dropped him off, but he was not tired.  He knew that he should sleep, especially after a harrowing day like today.  But the powerful stimulant that Avery convinced him to take told him otherwise.

Chase lived in a small two bedroom brick house in the older part of town.  It was a rental property which he found after his divorce—the first one at which he looked.  He didn't spend any time shopping around, he simply took it.  The landlord gave him a good price because he paid a lump sum up front for the whole year.

He promised Avery that he would stay in the house until morning, at which time she would continue her shadowing.  The plan was to have her bring him to his office—assuming he still had his job after the arrest. 

But Chase was somewhat doubtful that he could keep that promise.  There was too much to do and not enough time, and he wanted to minimize Avery's exposure to his business.

Despite his gut feeling that he could trust her, he did not trust today's turn of events.  It went from bad to worse to strange and bizarre.  He was curious to know more about Avery and who she worked for.  She didn't work for the government—he was certain of that.  Her knowledge of the process, the paperwork, and the overall jail experience seemed weak—almost foreign to her.  But there was a competency and confidence that eluded him.  Almost as if she belonged to some sort of well-funded organization, tailor made for conspiracy theory enthusiasts.

She was smart, financially well off, attractive, good with people, and seemed to have contacts in high places.  Whoever her employers were, they would not use someone like her lightly.  Pressing the matter would have gotten him nowhere, other than confirming her inability to lie.  Clearly her company wanted something from him.  They cut a deal with the D.A. to get him out, showing that they were highly motivated.  But why?

If she were with the feds, it would make sense—for many reasons.  Perhaps they sought to delve deeper into the seedy underbelly of the prescription drug racket.  But then why let him go?  There were no bigger fish to catch.  What else was there?  Gambling?  Pirating software?  Petty crimes at best. 

The key might be learning the identity of her boss.  It would yield answers, but possibly more questions as well. 

The only other clue was Pete McClouth.  That slick lawyer seemed to show interest in Chase after McClouth's insane ramblings in the jail cell.

Thinking of McClouth reminded Chase of the odd spaceships and angels story.

"What the hell was that all about?" he mumbled.

He kicked off his shoes and decided to find out.  The second bedroom in his house was his dedicated computer room, and despite its disorder it served him well.  More flat screens than he would ever need were scattered about, even on the floor.  Some of them so old and obsolete that he knew he would never use them again.  Two large tables with octopus wires firing out everywhere held a variety of desktops and laptops—all for different purposes.

He stepped around the clutter to find the workstation he wanted and got comfortable.

He paused, considering the possibility that whoever Avery worked for may be monitoring him.  Chase was not often paranoid, but there were many times that caution served him well, especially when he didn't have to go out of his way too much.  Specifically, he didn't want anyone—whoever they were—tracking his internet footprint.