Tell Me Lies: A completely addictive and unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Max Carter Book 1)

by Ed James

  The passenger door opened and a man got in, closing it behind him. Nice and quiet. His features were too small for his face. Acne scars covered his cheeks. Dressed smart, a salmon-pink polo underneath a gray jacket. Shaved head, and the skin on his cleft chin was smooth, but the guy had the kind of red stubble that even a shave couldn’t fully remove. The sort of face you’d remember.

  And Holliday didn’t.

  I thought I’d see some freak from a town hall who kept ranting about his guns and the federal government and forming militias.

  But it’s some random I’ve never seen.

  “That was very stupid, Senator. Don’t think about attacking me again, okay? Have you ditched your cell?”

  “It’s in the trash at the hospital. You can frisk me if you like.”

  So he did. Sitting down. His hands chopping Holliday’s legs and arms and back.

  “What’s going on here? What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to drive.”

  “What. Do. You. Want?”

  “I’ve told you, Senator. I need your help. If you don’t want to help me, well that’s your choice. You’ll never see your kid again, and the feds will start digging into why you’ve run away from your dying son to hook up with me.”

  Holliday felt a raw ache deep in his gut. “What do I call you?”

  “What do you want to call me, Senator?”

  “Dead?”

  “Cute. If you want to call me something, call me Mason.”

  “Is that your name?”

  “It’s good enough.” Mason tapped the dashboard with a revolver. “Drive.”

  “No.”

  Mason laughed. “You saw what I can do to you. You think you’ve got a say in this?”

  “You really going to shoot me in a busy parking lot?”

  “Don’t doubt I will.” Mason pressed the gun to Holliday’s side. “I’ll shoot you and your daughter will die. You won’t even know that she’s dead, but you’ll die here knowing there’s nothing you can do to save her.”

  I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.

  Holliday pushed his teeth together until it hurt. Then chanced another look at the madman. Still didn’t recognize him. “You’d honestly kill a young girl?”

  “Don’t test us.”

  Us?

  Of course he’s not acting alone. Someone else had Avery when he tried to drop off Brandon. Meaning an accomplice who still has her.

  “What was the plan?” Holliday tried to clear his throat, but it was too dry. “You had Brandon in the car. Were you going to take him with us?”

  “No, Senator. I was going to drop him outside a police precinct. Or put him in a cab. You’d know he was safe.”

  “Show me that Avery’s okay.”

  Mason sighed. “Okay.” He got out a smartphone, then tapped some buttons. Within seconds, the screen was filled with a shot of Avery lying on a bed.

  Holliday gasped.

  Mason spoke into the phone, “Wave.”

  A light-brown hand appeared in front of Avery. Hard to fake, especially in real time.

  Mason put the smartphone away. “So, Senator, what’s it to be?”

  Holliday focused on him. “Before we do anything, I want to know what this is all about.”

  Mason thought it through for a few seconds. “Just drive.”

  “No!”

  Mason looked pissed, slamming his head back into the headrest. He expects the FBI to show up at any point. “Chris, you don’t want to mess with me. If you’re a good boy, then your daughter lives. But if you cross me, she dies. It’s that simple.”

  Holliday gave him a long hard look, but it didn’t make any difference. “How do I know you’ll let Avery go?”

  “You have my word. What happened to your boy was tragic and I wish I could change it, but I can’t. But I’ve got your daughter and if you want to see her again, you’ll play nice.” Mason pulled the gun away from Holliday’s side. “Now, are you going to play nice?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Carter

  Carter gripped tight as the SUV hurtled through the thick traffic. The sun beat down, a brief window in the deluge. He hugged his service laptop to his knees and followed a security feed on the screen. “Peterson, I can’t see him!”

  “He was there, sir.” Tyler’s voice boomed in Carter’s earpiece. “Outside the Starbucks.”

  “Got it.”

  On the laptop screen, Holliday stood outside, looking inside the coffee shop.

  Carter braced himself as Elisha took a fast corner into the strip mall parking lot. When he looked back at the screen, he’d lost Holliday. One second he was there, and then he wasn’t.

  Forget it, focus on the here and now.

  Elisha pulled up and Carter hopped out, leaving his laptop on the seat.

  The SWAT team swooped into position, securing the Starbucks and the parking lot. Patrons stood around, open-mouthed.

  Carter scanned their faces. No sign of Holliday. No sign of the kidnapper either. He raced over to the store and looked in. Place was quiet, none of the customers a match for either. He stomped back outside and scanned the parking lot. “Peterson, speak to me.”

  “Sir, I’ve—” Tyler gasped. “He got in a Chevrolet Malibu.”

  “Which space?”

  “Right where you’re standing, sir.”

  Carter looked over at a surveillance camera. He looked around the parking lot, but there was no sign of any Malibus. “They’re gone?”

  “Drove off like a minute before you got there.”

  Meaning they’d been sitting there for ten minutes.

  What were they talking about?

  And where were they now?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mason

  Another check of the sideview mirror, and we’re still not being followed.

  I look over at Holliday and try to figure out the calculations going on behind his eyes as he drives. He’s agreed to come with me, knowing what’s at stake, but shit, I can’t trust the guy. Turn my back on him for a second, and it’ll be my life against Avery’s.

  We’re speeding down a long diagonal cut into Seattle’s grid system, trees and cars lining the slowly climbing road, covering the sort of condo block you’d see anywhere across this great nation. On the right, a basement Chinese laundry takes in a fresh van-load. Then past a Shell on the left and through another intersection, the stop lights green.

  Holliday looks at me, briefly locking eyes, not paying attention to the road. I hope he’s not like that when he’s shouting at Megan for some bullshit reason, and he’s got his kids in back. “Where are we going?”

  I settle down in the seat, still hiding, as Holliday eases the Malibu around a corner. “You tell me.”

  He looks over at me again, his jaw set. “We’re heading downtown. That where you want me to go?”

  “Well done, Senator, you know your city.”

  Holliday looks back at the road, frowning. “Just tell me where you want me to go.”

  I suck in a breath, the pain resurfacing from the deep as I watch the traffic, lost to the hurt swelling in my chest. “Take us to the Federal Building.”

  Holliday tightens his grip on the wheel. “I was there this morning. You could’ve—” He shuts his eyes as he accelerates, up and over the brow of the road. “The protests, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “You picked today because of them?” He whizzes downhill past a deli. “The FBI will mostly be co-opted to that, meaning you’ve got a clearer run?”

  “You’re good, Senator. Right now, they’re fighting their way over to the Washington Convention Center. It’s over a mile away.”

  He thinks it through, long and hard, then blows air up his face as we pass a dive bar, almost in downtown. “Okay.” He takes a right, and we head down another long street.

  Down the slope, the Federal Building sits a couple of blocks away, one of many skyscrapers springing up o
ut of the ground. The streets are empty, just the trail of garbage a protest leaves behind, no matter how right-on the protestors are. You can see the Sound from here, Bainbridge Island over the water, the ferry trundling back.

  Holliday pulls up by a bus shelter and kills the engine, blowing air up his face again. “I can get us in there. What do you want when we’re inside?”

  I sit there for a few seconds, thinking it all through. Then I realize there’s nothing else to gain from holding back. “I need some information about Operation Opal Lance. About the exercise at Tang Elementary.”

  Holliday’s gripping the steering wheel. “You kidnapped my kids for this? It’s got nothing to do with me! My boy is dying because you want some information on a military operation?”

  “You know I didn’t want that to happen, right? It wasn’t in the plan.”

  “But you want information in exchange for my kids’ lives?”

  “And you know what’ll happen to Avery if I don’t get it.” I look around. “I don’t need to explain what Opal Lance was to you of all people.”

  “Are you going to sell information to the Russians or the Chinese?”

  “No, Senator. Guess again.”

  “Because if my son is dying because of some spy-versus-spy spook bullshit…” He gasps. “Are you working for Olson? Rooting around for GrayBox, trying to get juice on what Delgado has on them? Is that it? If you are, I’ll kill you both with my bare hands.”

  “You think I’m working for that piece of shit?” I can only laugh. But Holliday shuts up. Maybe he can see in my eyes that I mean it. “I hate the guy, Senator. Get real.”

  “Why do you think I can help?”

  “Because you’re involved in the congressional investigation, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not.” Holliday swallows hard. “This is nothing to do with me!”

  “Don’t lie to me, Senator. You fought for that exercise. Put a bill through the Senate.”

  “I was just trying to secure my state!” Holliday sits there, trying to figure out his options.

  “Chris, it’s simple—you either help me, or I kill Avery. That’s it.”

  Holliday tries to swallow, but his throat is tight. “Look, whatever you want to know, I can’t get you it. You need to speak to Xander Delgado, not me. Why didn’t you just ask him?”

  “Don’t you think we’ve tried? Do you think people like you listen to people like me unless I hold a gun to your head? You listen to donors and lobbyists and your corrupt peers, cooking up deals. But if you can’t afford to donate or pay a lobbyist, bad luck. Democracy’s not for you. Right?”

  “My son is in the ER because of this bullshit?”

  “Chris, deal with it. Get me information on what happened, and Avery walks free. So do you.” I grab his wrist and press my thumb into the bone right in the middle, making him yelp like a dog. “Listen to me. You need to believe in yourself. Have a little faith.” I let go of the wrist. “Now what’s it going to be?”

  Like I’m giving him a choice.

  Holliday points at the handgun. “You can’t take that inside.”

  “Good point.” I lick my lips as I stow it away in the glovebox. “I’ve still got my cell phone. Any shit from you and my friends will kill Avery. Then I’ll kill you.”

  “Believe me, I know.” Holliday gives me a slow nod as he opens the driver door like a good boy. “What do you want to find out?”

  “There was an exercise in Seattle on October second, last year. At Tang Elementary. I need to know exactly what happened there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Then

  Faraj

  How do I get out of here?

  Faraj was covered in sweat, matting his hair, soaking into his thin jumpsuit. Still in darkness, still locked in place. It’d been days. Maybe even weeks. He’d lost count.

  Then he heard something. A dull thud. His cage cracked open, bright light blinding him again. He tried opening his eyes, but they stung, a deep throb all over his eyes. He blinked it away and took in the room. A different place than before.

  They’ve moved me and I didn’t even notice.

  A face appeared in front of him. The other soldier, the one that didn’t stutter. “You’re awake, then?” He opened the door wide and grabbed Faraj’s harness, pulling him out like he was leading a dog on its leash. “Come on, son.” He took him over to a table with two chairs. A brown paper bag sat on top, crumpled but full of something. Smelled like fries. “You like a burger?”

  “My mom says I—”

  “Halal, right?” The soldier snarled, baring yellowing teeth at him. “Relax, kid. This is halal meat. Only kind I can get here.” He sat Faraj down on a chair, then secured his harness in place. “Dig in.”

  Faraj had just enough energy to tear at the bag. A pink-and-white wrapper covered a brown bun, the darker meat covered in cheese and ketchup, a pickle sticking out like a tongue. He bit into it all and chewed slowly. Can’t remember the last time I ate. “How long—”

  “Two weeks, kid.” The soldier sat across from him, leaning back, arms folded. “Almost to the second.”

  Faraj took another hungry bite, swallowing it down without chewing. He felt it stick in his throat but took another, chewing this time.

  “Your daddy’s dead.”

  Faraj stopped chewing. The burger dropped onto the table, spilling some lettuce onto the shiny wood.

  “You’ve got to understand, your father was a bad man. He did a lot of bad things and he needed to be punished for that. Do you understand?”

  Faraj shut his eyes, hard, until they hurt because he was squeezing them together. “Can I go home now?”

  “To your mom?”

  Faraj gave the slightest nod. This man is a bully. Daddy told me to not give them the satisfaction of seeing my pain. “I just want to see her. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “See, I could do that.” The soldier reached over to the bag and took a fry from the yellow container, then ate it in two goes. “But my problem is that you represent a problem, Faraj. People like you, sons of martyrs, they have a habit of trying to kill us. We’re the good guys, but you think we’re the villains.”

  “You killed my dad! And you’re keeping me here!”

  “See?” Another couple of fries, chewed together. “You think I’m a bad guy.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “And I just take your word for it?”

  “I swear!”

  “And I wish I believed you, kid, really I do. Wish I could.” He took a handful of fries but kept them in his hand, like Wolverine’s claws in the X-Men, one between each finger. “But I’ve got two choices here.” He ate the first fry. “One, I let you go.” Then the second fry. “Two, I keep you here forever. Son of a known terrorist, a war criminal who murdered two American GIs. Easy.” Then he frowned before eating the final fry. “Shit, there is a third option.”

  Faraj was struggling to control his breathing. Sweat trickled down his back again, a fresh wave of it. “What is it?”

  “I kill you right now.” The soldier looked around the room, smiling. “Makes it a whole lot cleaner for me.”

  Faraj stood up as much as the harness would let him.

  “You don’t look too well, kid.” Another handful of fries, a worse grin. “Maybe I’ve already killed you? Maybe there was poison in that burger? Maybe we just sit here and wait for you to die?”

  Faraj lashed out, the harness clanking as he swung his arms.

  But the soldier caught his hand and squeezed. “Relax, kid. I’m messing with you. I know exactly what’s going to happen to you.” Another smile. “Now, eat your burger.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Now

  Carter

  Carter walked through the Starbucks, through the wall of customers speaking to agents. “Peterson, I need you to follow that Chevy ASAP.”

  “I’m on it, sir. It’s taking time.” And Tyler was gone.

  The SWAT were already stand
ing down, their number joined by some Seattle Field Office agents.

  Carter walked over to the Starbucks. Looked inside, just like Holliday had moments before.

  Elisha was talking to an elderly man in a checked shirt wearing a red MAGA baseball cap. “Thank you, sir.” She left the man with a suited agent and headed Carter off by the cash register. “That guy saw Holliday here. Says he voted for him, shook his hand at a rally. You get the drill. Wondered what the senator was doing in this part of town. He spotted someone go up to him, looked like he stuck a gun in his back.”

  “So he thinks Holliday was abducted?”

  “Sounds like it. Tallies with what Tyler got from the surveillance footage. He snuck around the back, making sure he wasn’t spotted.”

  Carter wanted to punch something. “We almost had them.”

  “One step ahead of us, huh?”

  Carter set off toward the SUV. “We’re getting close, though. And we now know for sure that Holliday’s in contact with the kidnapper. I just want to know why, Elisha. Holliday’s only been a senator a couple years. He doesn’t have any power, not yet anyway. He’s a junior member of a committee. Only reason he’d work with the man who’d abducted his kids is he’s either in on it, or he’s being blackmailed.”

  “If what that guy back there says is true, then it’s looking like abduction.”

  “But he slipped out of the hospital to meet this guy. Why?”

  Carter’s cell blasted out. He answered it on speaker. “Go ahead.”

  Tyler, announcing his presence with a moan. “Sir, Holliday’s just swiped into the Federal Building downtown.”

  What was Holliday up to?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mason

  Holliday leads me through the building’s foyer. Very grand. The kinda place the good senator is most at home.