Blood and Justice Read Online Free Page A

about a guy from King City? Chad Brownson, or maybe Bronson. Probably the last one to see Jenny. Get back to me asap.”
    He slowly hung up the phone. “In the meantime,” he said, “there’s not much we can do. Hank can find out more in ten minutes than we could in a day.”
    Annie was staring at the computer again. “There’s nothing on Chad Brownson or Bronson on Facebook. At least not from around here. The names do pop up in a few other places elsewhere online, but mostly hundreds of miles away. Certainly not our guy.”
     
     
    Tuesday, August 9th, 4:52 PM
     
    BENNY FLANDERS had been a bum, and a petty thief, for most of his long life. He could never seem to settle down. Didn’t want to. He liked the freedom of doing his own thing. Stealing what he needed. Bumming for cash. The occasional break and enter. Most houses were easy to get into. Always an unsecured window or some other means to help him find his way into an unguarded residence.
    He’d been in and out of jail a few times. Nothing serious. He didn’t care. Actually, jail was a pretty good place to spend a night or two. Warm. Lots to eat. They could never seem to be able to pin much of anything on him. Life was pretty good. Nobody to tell you what to do. That’s what it’s all about.
    A half-full bottle of cheap wine obtained from this morning’s begging jutted from the right pocket of his filthy overcoat. An unlit stub of a cigar was stuck in his face.
    And today was a day just like any other.
    Benny was patrolling the parking lot of the huge Walmart store centrally located in Midtown Plaza. Peeking in car windows. Looking for unlocked doors. Looking for something to claim as his own. Maybe something he could sell, or wear, or eat, or whatever the occasion provided.
    Not much luck so far.
    Benny leaned down and scanned the front seat of a white 2000 Toyota Tercel.
    “I can’t believe it,” he said, his mouth hanging open, cigar stuck to his lip. “They left the keys in it.”
    Benny hadn’t driven for many years, and he didn’t know whether he should even attempt it. But the keys dangling there in front of his astonished eyes, and a chance to break up the boredom of the day were just too much for him.
    He took a quick look around. Nobody in sight. He grinned as he lifted the door handle, opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat.
    He sat there for a minute with a stupid smile on his face, and then a turn of the key and the motor purred to life.
    He backed carefully from the narrow parking spot his newfound toy was occupying. He cut the wheel a bit too sharp and dinged the front fender of a sleek black Mercedes beside him.
    “Oh nuts!” he said to himself. “Be more careful, boy.”
    There were no more mishaps, and in a couple of minutes, Benny steered the Tercel from the lot and headed toward a side street away from Walmart. He bounced up and down in the seat with glee, chuckling to himself as he sped down the street. Not too fast. There might be cops around.
    He spun through a stop sign, not noticing it until it was too late. A quick look in his mirrors assured him he was still safe. Nobody else in sight.
    He didn’t want to keep the car. Of course not. It was stolen. And he couldn’t sell it. He wouldn’t know where to sell a car. Probably wasn’t worth much anyway. He just wanted to go for a little ride. Or a long ride. Whatever. He wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Didn’t care. Didn’t want to care.
    The officer, in the cruiser, who tossed his donut into the box beside him, who pulled from the side street and hit his siren, didn’t care either. All he knew was he’d seen a car run a stop sign, and that was against the law.
    Officer Spiegle was new on the job. He felt important. He wasn’t too bright and had only gotten this job because his daddy was a cop. The other cops called him Yappy. He didn’t know why. He didn’t talk much. But it was a name, and he didn’t care, so it stuck.
    But he was a cop, a symbol of