False Signs (John Taylor #2)

Chapter 2

Taylor said his goodbyes to Naziah and Colonel Keene and headed out to join Robles in the SUV.

"How'd it go? he asked, as John opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat.

"I told them I'd look into it."

"See, I told you there was something here!"

"I'm not going that far. It's possible this kid is innocent, but all they have is how they feel about him. Mothers are usually the last to know what their kids are really like."

"Yes, but Colonel Keene agrees."

"Sure. That and your support of this is a big reason I decided to look into it. I sympathize with Naziah, but I'm not sure the faith a grieving mother has in her son is enough evidence of anything."

"But you believe them."

"Like I said, maybe. I'll look into it and see what I can see. I didn't promise anything beyond that."

"Great. That's all we can ask for."

Taylor didn't reply and looked out the window as they pulled out of the driveway and headed into a more built-up area near the freeway filled with restaurants and hotels.

Finally, Robles broke the silence

"The Colonel told me if you agreed he'd make some calls and get you access. I'm the new guy in the office, so I told him I wouldn't be able to get shit. He was pretty confident he could get you in though. I'm gonna drop you at a motel and get you a room so you can get some rest while we work out the details."

"Is the mother paying for ..."

"No. Hell no. She offered, but I'm not that much of a dick. We didn't want you to do this outta pocket though, so I threw in, the Colonel threw in, even some of the guys from the unit the kid's dad served with. We've got enough to cover the bills while you look into it."

"Thanks. While we're talking about covering stuff, I had to leave my sidearm behind to get on the flight. I feel kinda naked without it."

"I figured as much. I mentioned it to the Colonel before your plane landed. He is going to see about getting you some kind of authorization to carry while you work on this."

"How much pull does this guy have? I mean, he's a Colonel, but that doesn't mean shit in the real world."

"Remember he works at the Pentagon, and he's good at his job. He has favors on top of favors. This guy has some real juice."

"If you say so," Taylor said, and let the conversation drop.

A minute later they were pulling into a budget motel parking lot on the side of the freeway.

"It's not the Hilton, but..."

"It'll do."

Robles handed some cash to Taylor, who waved goodbye and headed inside.

After five minutes Taylor was pushing open the door to a single room at the end of a long, dank smelling hallway. Shutting and bolting the door, Taylor flopped on the hard, squeaky bed and closed his eyes, ignoring the cigarette burns in the bedspread of this supposedly non-smoking room.

He let himself drift off for a minute, his brain jumping from item to item, but didn't fall asleep. Taylor hadn't slept much in the last six months. Between his time in captivity and the events in Miami, there were too many ghosts floating just behind his eyelids. More often than not he would drift off to sleep around one A.M. as exhaustion overtook him, only to wake up screaming just before sunrise in a cold sweat.