The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) James Best (best books to read all time .txt) 📖

“If it’s yours,” Evarts said, “I’m returning your property. If not, you need better minders.”

Chapter 21

Evarts didn’t think long before deciding to go home again. This time he’d remain in Santa Barbara. He had no intention of being used by any of the parties in this charade. He returned directly to his hotel and ordered room service. For the next several hours he used the Internet to research the Templars of old, Freemasons, and Islamic terrorism. It wasn’t productive. He already knew more about the Masons and terrorism than he could find on the web and although interesting, he didn’t learn anything useful about medieval Templars. He checked the news sites but couldn’t find any fresh reports on the Pont Neuf attack. It was literally yesterday’s news.

He flew out of Dulles International in the morning and used a car service to drive him from Los Angeles International Airport to his house. On the two-hour drive from LAX, he laid his head back and thought. He and Trish were in a tough spot. The Islamic terrorists wanted revenge, Army Intelligence wanted him to spy on the Templars, and the Templars wanted him to fight and probably spy for their side. This wasn’t his fight. To hell with them all. He had already limited the damage from one attack, he didn’t need to do more.

The only reason to align with either the Army or Templars would be for questionable protection against bounty hunters. The Templar Knights were obviously out. Beyond his misgivings about vigilantism, he would never spy against the Army. On the other hand, he could cooperate with Army Intelligence, but that didn’t mean he needed to fight or spy for them. Besides, O’Brian hadn’t been forthcoming. That pissed him off because he was sure that he knew more. He hadn’t shared any significant intelligence. Plus, he had bungled guarding him during his meeting with Lewis. His promised physical protection wouldn’t last long; weeks, maybe months, but it would end after the first budget review. The terrorists weren’t about to lift the bounty merely because they grew tired of waiting. If O’Brian wouldn’t share information and protection was temporary, then an Army alliance was worthless.

A thought occurred to him. Had O’Brian known about the bounty? He gave no inkling of this when they discussed the attack outside his home. If he had known about the reward and hadn’t forewarned him, he’d be even more pissed. If not, then O’Brian didn’t know squat about the enemy’s intentions. Yet, another reason not to engage with the Army.

Trish and he were better off on their own. The absence of an attack while under Army protection might lull them into complacency, and if they became lazy, they’d become easy targets. He and Trish might as well face the threat while they were frightened. They had battled a secret society previously and they could do it again. At that time, his police department was of no support because they suspected him of complicity in a crime. Now he ran the police department. The Santa Barbara Police Department? Not as big or mighty as the Army, but trustworthy and capable. Although they couldn’t gather information by lurking in the shadows like the Templar Knights, the department did have connections and alliances with federal anti-terrorist agencies. That could be valuable. He started putting together a plan and vowed to meet with Mayor Walsh at the first opportunity.

Once he had decided to stiff-arm the Army and the Templars, he became calm and purposeful. He felt relaxed when the car dropped him off at his house.

When he entered his home, it felt empty.

Instead of calling out, he drew his gun. Something didn’t feel right. The rambling hacienda style house surrounded an interior patio. Instead of proceeding in the direction of the kitchen on the left side, he took the route through the library to the right. The prior owner had been a bibliophile, so the library was large. Evarts went over to a window and cautiously peeked through the saguaro shutters to the other side of the house. He saw no one in the center court and spotted no movement through the opposite side windows. He glanced at his watch. His wife could still be at work, but where was their maid? She usually cooked supper about this hour. There was a casual eating area beside the kitchen with a large window looking out onto the center court. From Evarts’ viewpoint, he could see directly into the kitchen. No movement.

He carefully made his way through the house and around the courtyard until he arrived at the kitchen. He encountered no one. Dead silence. The kitchen was spick-and-span except for an envelope on the counter. Evarts apprehensively approached it until he recognized his wife’s writing. Then he jumped at it and ripped it open.

Greg,

Sorry about arguing with you on the phone. You’re right to worry. As a precaution, I’m staying at Bill Moore’s until you get home. I gave the maid the week off.

Love you, Trish.

Clever girl. They knew no one named Bill Moore, but they occasionally put up out-of-town guests at the Biltmore. If someone broke in and examined the note, they would have been at least temporarily thrown off track. The resort was much closer to UCSB, so her commute on public streets would be shorter. The only drawback was safety. Although the resort had excellent security for a hotel, it didn’t compare to the system surrounding his home.

Evarts carefully examined the envelop and note. He could find no indication that it had been opened and resealed. He shredded them both in a small office off the kitchen.

He carried his overnight bag upstairs and emptied it into the clothes hamper. He was about to refill it with fresh clothes but decided to exchange the bag for a large suitcase. He didn’t know for sure, but they could be at the Biltmore for an extended stay. Besides, a