was probably where the local patrol car would be--looking for drunks.
Once he was within a block or so of his destination, Ventura would
shuck the white shirt and light slacks and become a ninja, part of the
night. He would be invisible in the darkness, but if a cop did somehow
miraculously see him, then it would be the cop's bad luck.
At this stage of the game, he couldn't leave anybody behind to tell
tales.
He'd find a quiet spot and wait until it was late enough for the widow
Morrison to get to sleep, then he would move.
The rental car waiting at the Port Townsend Airport was a six-year-old
Datsun that was badly in need of a tune-up. Only thing they had
available, the guy from Rent-a-Beater had told him. Somebody had
rented the good Dodge only half an hour earlier. The contract had been
done over the phone, the rental place was closed, and the keys were
over the sun visor.
Trusting souls up here. Then again, somebody would really need a ride
pretty bad to swipe this hunk of junk.
The Datsun chugged and rattled along, ran ragged, and nearly stalled
several times. The dash GPS was broken, but there was a worn and
greasy paper map in the glove box, and between that and his virgil's
GPS, Michaels was able to locate the address he wanted.
He knew that Ventura had been headed here. Jay had gotten the GPS
readings from Brink's, and Port Townsend wasn't really on the way to
anywhere else, unless you planned to catch a ferry to the San Juan
Islands. By nine, Ventura's rental car was in the town, and it was
still here now, at eleven, but Michaels had to hurry, he might already
be too late.
It wasn't that outlandish, when you thought about it.
This was where Dr. Morrison had lived, and within an hour of his
estimated time of death, a man going under the name of Corona, who was
in all likelihood the late doctor's bodyguard, had gotten on a plane
headed this way. He could be going somewhere else in this town, that
was true, but this was one more coincidence that didn't Play- There
must be something in Morrison's house that Ventura/Corona wanted,
something worth taking a hurried flight here for. And what did
Morrison have of value?
Well, that was pretty obvious.
Maybe it was something else. Maybe he was coming here for some other
reason entirely, but Michaels couldn't think of any offhand.
Michaels could call the local police, get some backup from the county
sheriff, and maybe a few state police officers for good measure.
Surround Morrison's house and grab Ventura when he showed up. Simple.
He could do that, but he didn't want to scare the guy off. If there
were a dozen local cops tromping around this quiet little burg in the
middle of the night, Ventura would have to be blind to miss them. So
what Michaels had in mind was to find the house, hide somewhere he
could watch it, and wait. When Ventura showed up, then he'd call in
the cavalry. Give him time to find what he came for, maybe, to save
Net Force having to look for it themselves.
If Ventura was already there, as soon as Alex saw him come out, he'd
