Signature Wounds (A Paul Grale Thriller #1)

“There may be somebody else using the building that the owner’s daughter doesn’t know about. If you can, get the company she leases to.”


“She gave it to me.”

“Look into them.”

I called Beatty and his voice was slowed, but that made sense once he started talking.

“I found their bodies. Eddie is there too. He was shot. They’re partially covered, not too far from where the Land Cruiser was yesterday.”

“How did you find them?”

“I drove out to the landmark I’ve been using to sight on the Land Cruiser and then looked around. Eddie was shot there. There’s blood in the sand near his head.”

“Tell me again how you knew where to look.”

“I memorized a rock when I was trying to look into the Land Cruiser with the spotting scope. It’s white and looks like a shark’s fin.”

“Text me a photo of it.”

“You don’t need it, I’ve got coordinates. I’ll send you those.”

“Are you okay waiting with the bodies?”

“No, there’s no phone reception out there. I’ll take you there.”

“Where are you now?”

“On top of the hills on the road out of the airfield.”

“You’re leaving there?”

“Pretty soon. What did you find in Pahrump?”

“If you leave, you can’t go far. You’ll need to lead us to the bodies.”

“I know.”

Beatty was waiting, and I went with my gut and everything I knew about him, despite being troubled that Strata reported everything as fine at the airfield. I flashed on the possibility that Jeremy went back to the airfield and killed the security guards and Eddie Bahn, and then made up a story about the trucks leaving in the night with the drones.

“In Pahrump someone saw trucks like you described leave early this morning.”

“They didn’t come here.”

“I’ve been listening to you, so I know that. I have to ask you to stay where you are, Jeremy. I’ll call you back soon.”

I called back fifteen minutes later as I drove south on 95. “Walk me through again how these drones are shipped in trucks and put back together.”

“It’s easy. They were designed to be shipped anywhere in the world. The wings slide in and get locked in place with screws. The fuselage isn’t that heavy. Comes apart in reverse.”

“How long to reassemble?”

“A four-man team with the right tools could do it in ten minutes.”

“I’m not that far from the turnoff toward you, but there’s some big slowdown on the highway up ahead. Cars and trucks are stacking up. Dammit, it’s some sort of accident. I may be trapped out here.”

“Put the bubble lights on and run up the shoulder.”

“Yeah, no wait a minute, something else is going on. Jeremy, could the drones use the highway as a runway?”

“You bet.”

“I might be looking at that. I’ve got to make a quick call then get back to you.”





53


“Where are you?” Venuti asked.

“Southbound on 95, looking at an accident or something up ahead. Beatty found the bodies of Eddie Bahn and the two security guards.”

“Maybe he found them where he left them.”

“Each was shot multiple times. He texted me coordinates. I’ll forward those to you. The bodies are a third to a half mile down a dirt track that runs south from the westernmost part of the Strata airfield. He was at the airfield when he called me and says it’s empty—no drones, no pilots, nothing. They’re gone.”

“That contradicts what Strata just told us.”

“It does.”

“And you believe Beatty?”

“He’s there.”

“The doctor who treated him for PTSD told us Beatty is delusional and paranoid. You were in the room when he said it. Don’t go out to the airfield. Is that clear?”

“It’s clear. Hey, Dan, I’m not sure what’s going on up ahead, about a third of a mile, but it looks like a semi is parked across the highway blocking the southbound lanes.”

“So like you just said, an accident.”

“There’s another big rig up ahead of it with some sort of activity around it.”

“Probably trying to help the one stuck behind it.”

“This truck nearest me looks like it’s parked to block the southbound lanes. It’s not jackknifed. I don’t see signs of an accident. This is near the Mercury exit where the highway divides into separated north and southbound lanes. Vehicles are stacking up behind it.”

“It’s somebody’s idea of a protest.”

“Could be,” I said, though it didn’t have that vibe. “I’m going to pull over. I’m where I can still turn around. Listen, I just checked out a tip on trucks in and out of a warehouse in Pahrump last night. Beatty says the drones get disassembled and moved out in semis when they work on them at night. They take them somewhere.”

“So what?”

“I’m saying it because Strata says that’s not happened.”

“Well, Beatty reported the airfield had no drones on it, or whatever the hell he said when they had them up and flying on video feed. I don’t know why you’ve been so—”

“Dan, I think I just heard gunfire. Put me on hold and call the highway patrol. Something is happening here.”

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