Back Spin (1997) Read Online Free Page A

Myron said.
    "But you don't believe it, do you?"
    He shrugged. "Let's just say I'm more than a little skeptical."
    "Why?"
    "The amount, for one thing. What was Chad's max?"
    "Five hundred dollars a day."
    "So why would a kidnapper only take $l80?"
    Linda Coldren thought a moment. "If he took too much, someone might get suspicious."
    Myron sort of frowned. "But if the kidnapper was that careful," he began, "why risk so much for $l80?
    Everyone knows that ATMs are equipped with security cameras. Everyone also knows that even the simplest computer check can yield a location."
    She looked at him evenly. "You don't think my son is in danger."
    "I didn't say that, This whole thing may look like one thing and be another. You were right before. It's safest to . assume that the kidnapping is real."
    "So what's your next step?"
    "I'm not sure. The ATM machine was on Porter Street in South Philadelphia. Is that someplace Chad likes to hang out?"
    "No," Linda Coldren said slowly. "In fact, it's a place I would never imagine him going."
    "Why do you say that?"
    "It's a dive. One of the sleaziest parts of the city."
    Myron stood. "You got a street map?"
    "In my glove compartment?
    "Good. I'll' need to borrow your car for a little while."
    "Where are you going?"
    "I'm going to drive around this ATM."
    She frowned. "What for?" '
    "I don't know," Myron admitted. "Like I said before, investigating is not very scientific. You do some legwork and you push some buttons and you hope something happens."
    Linda Coldren reached into a pocket for her keys.
    "Maybe the kidnappers grabbed him there," she said.
    "Maybe you'll see his car or something."
    Myron almost slapped himself in the head. A car. He had forgotten something so basic. In his mind, a kid disappearing on his way to or from school conjured up images of yellow buses or strolling sprightly with a book bag. How could he have missed something as obvious as a car trace?
    He asked her the make and model. Gray Honda Accord. Hardly a car that stands out in a crowd. Pennsylvania license plate 567-AHJ. He called it in to Esperanza.
    Then he gave Linda Coldren his cellular phone number.
    "Call me if anything happens."
    "Okay."
    "I'll be back soon," he said.
    The ride wasn't far. He traveled, it seemed, from green splendor to concrete crap instantaneously like on Star Trek where they step through one of those time portals.
    The ATM was a drive-through located in what would l generously be labeled a business district. Tons of cameras. No human tellers. Would a kidnapper really risk , this? Very doubtful. Myron wondered where he could get a copy of the bank's videotape without alerting the police.
    Win might know somebody. Financial institutions were usually anxious to cooperate with the Lockwood family.
    The question was, would Win be willing to cooperate?
    Abandoned warehouses or at least, they looked abandoned lined the road. Eighteen-wheelers hurried by like something out of an old convoy movie. They reminded Myron of the CB craze from his childhood. Like everyone else, his dad had bought one a man born in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn who grew up to own an undergarment factory in Newark, barking "breaker one nine" with an accent he had picked up watching the movie Deliverance. Dad would be driving on Hobart Gap Road between their house and the Livingston Mallmaybe a one-mile drive asking his "good buddies" if there was any sign of "smokeys." Myron smiled at the memory. Ah, CBs. He was sure that his father still had his , someplace. Probably next to the eight-track player.
    On one side of the ATM was a gas station so generic that it didn't even bother having a name. Rusted cars stood upon crumbling cinder blocks. On the other side, a dirt-bag, no-tell motel called the Court Manor Inn greeted customers with green lettering that read: $19.99 PER
    HOUR.
    Myron Bolitar Traveling Tip #83: You may not be dealing with a live star deluxe property when they prominently advertise hourly rates.
    Under the