Private

Chapter 124

 

 

 

 

 

I WOKE UP the next morning in accord with my own circadian rhythms.

 

For a change, I wasn’t torn out of a nightmare. The phone hadn’t rung. The surf was up behind my house, and the sound of crashing waves was coming through the open windows. Nice.

 

Even nicer, Justine was lying next to me.

 

I turned to look at her gorgeous face and saw that she was watching me and smiling. I was filled with complete love for this woman.

 

She put her arms around my neck and pulled me close to her.

 

“The music of the surf,” she said. “I’ve always loved this house.”

 

“This house has always loved you.”

 

We were on our sides, facing each other. I pulled her thigh over my hip and suddenly we were immersed in a deep kiss, the sound of our breathing overwhelming the rush of the waves.

 

I didn’t think I could wait another moment—when the goddamned phone rang on the table.

 

Tommy. I reached for the phone, planning to blast him to hell. Then I read the caller ID. It wasn’t Tommy—and still I had to take the call.

 

“Jack Morgan,” I said, panting a little.

 

Carmine Noccia’s tone was casual, but his message was deadly serious.

 

“Sorry, Jack, but I’ve got bad news for you. Andy Cushman was involved in a one-car accident up the coast. He met a turn in the road head-on and went over a cliff near Marin. The car burned right the hell up. There were no skid marks. I think maybe his brakes failed.”

 

“You’re sure it was Andy?” I asked. I was having a little trouble talking, and breathing.

 

“Oh, yeah. It was him. One of my guys saw it happen. We were keeping an eye on him, you know. Hey. You have a good weekend.”

 

I closed the phone but hung on to it for a moment. I thought about my new silent partner, Carmine Noccia. Never a better friend. Never a worse enemy.

 

And I thought about how my feelings for Andy had changed once I knew he’d had Shelby murdered.

 

Andy had been my closest friend. I’d stood up for him at his wedding. I had expected to be godfather to Andy’s kids, or at least hang out with him when we were old, jetting around to golf courses, swapping memories, laughing our faces off.

 

And now Andy was dead. I knew I would feel something later, but for now I felt nothing for him.

 

Nothing at all.

 

I got out of bed and opened the sliders. Then I hauled back and hurled the phone as far as I could. Far. When the phone hit the waves, I closed the doors and locked them. I went back to Justine.

 

Could she read my face? Sure.

 

Could she read my mind? Probably.

 

“Who was that?” she asked.

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

She ran her hands down my sides and up my back. “You okay, Jack?”

 

“I’m fine,” I said, moving her long dark hair away from her face. “It’s time for a new phone, a new phone number.”

 

“Surprise me sometime, okay? Can you do that? Tell me what you’re actually thinking.”

 

“I’m thinking we were in the middle of something really good,” I said.

 

“I remember.”

 

I pulled Justine close, snugged her thigh over my hip. I kissed her again and got lost in the wonder of her. It was good, exactly where I wanted to be. I could tell her anything, and I did.

 

“Andy’s dead,” I whispered against Justine’s cheek.

 

 

 

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

 

Our thanks to these top professionals, who shared with us their valuable time and expertise:

 

Captain Rich Conklin; Dr. Humphrey Germaniuk; Captain Neil Oswald, USMC; Elaine Pagliaro, MS, JD; Steve Bowen; Ken Zercies; Mark Bruno; and C. Peter Colomello.

 

And our special thanks to our researchers, Lynn Colomello and Lauren Sheftell, and of course Mary Jordan, who manages it all.

 

 

 

 

 

About the Authors

 

 

JAMES PATTERSON has had more New York Times bestsellers than any other writer, ever, according to Guinness World Records. Since his first novel won the Edgar Award in 1977, James Patterson’s books have sold more than 180 million copies. He is the author of the Alex Cross novels, the most popular detective series of the past twenty-five years, including Kiss the Girls and Along Came a Spider. Mr. Patterson also writes the bestselling Women’s Murder Club novels, set in San Francisco, and the top-selling New York detective series of all time, featuring Detective Michael Bennett.

 

James Patterson also writes books for young readers, including the award-winning Maximum Ride, Daniel X, and Witch & Wizard series. In total, these books have spent more than 200 weeks on national bestseller lists, and all three series are in Hollywood development.

 

His lifelong passion for books and reading led James Patterson to launch a new website, ReadKiddoRead.com, to give adults an easy way to locate the very best books for kids. He writes full-time and lives in Florida with his family.

 

 

 

MAXINE PAETRO is the author of three novels and two works of nonfiction, and is the coauthor of seven books with James Patterson. She lives in New York with her husband.

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