A Matter of Life and Death Phillip Margolin (novels to read in english .TXT) 📖

had been recorded. It will show him giving Bash his hand wraps. What if Rostov has the recording?”

“Tell Carrie. She can send someone after Rostov.”

“It’s chaos down there. By the time we can get through to Carrie and the police can get someone to Rostov’s house, he could have destroyed the recording and any other evidence he’s hiding.”

Jeff hesitated. Robin grabbed his forearm. “Joe could die if we don’t act now! You know where Rostov lives. We’ve got to get there as fast as we can.”

For a moment, Jeff didn’t move. Then he pulled away and headed for the pickup.

Brent Macklin had followed Anthony Carasco when he left the courthouse. Instead of going home, Carasco had driven to Washington County and taken a country road to a farm. Brent had been in court when Judge Wright had ruled that evidence of the illegal fight could not be introduced in Lattimore’s trial for the murder of Elizabeth Carasco, and he’d read the memos Vanessa Cole and Robin had filed. The farm matched the description of the fight venue in the statements of fact in the memos.

Carasco parked in a grassy area behind the barn, next to a pickup. Macklin drove a quarter of a mile past the farm. After parking on a side road, he scrambled up a hill until he had a view of the back of the barn through his binoculars. A narrow track led from the back of the barn across a field and onto the road a half mile from where Macklin was parked.

Macklin had brought a canteen and energy bars to tide him over through his stakeout. As the sun set, vehicles began appearing on the road to the farm. Shortly before sunset, the parking area on the side of the barn farthest from Macklin was clogged with cars and pickups. Macklin was fascinated by the variety of people who had come to the fight. There were gangbangers and country club types, bejeweled women and men in business suits. Shortly after the lot filled up, a roar drifted up to Macklin on the wind, barely making it to his perch.

Then a caravan of police vehicles appeared, and Macklin saw armed men and women snaking down a hill and bursting into the barn. He swung his binoculars toward Carasco’s car and spotted the judge and a gigantic man running from the back of the barn. Macklin ran back to his car and drove out of the woods, moments after Carasco’s car and the pickup sped down the road.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Tony Carasco tore out of the barn faster than he’d run in ages. The adrenaline that had supercharged him started to wear off when he was in his car, racing away from the police. He laughed, relieved to have escaped. It had been a close call, but he was free. Then it dawned on him that Kevin Bash had not been so lucky. The last thing the judge had seen before he ran out of the barn was the police closing in on Bash. Fear gripped Carasco. Bash had a piece of information that he could trade for his freedom. He knew who had hired him to get rid of Betsy. And once he named Carasco …

The judge fought the sudden urge to throw up. He had to think. He couldn’t stay in Oregon. Hell, he couldn’t stay anywhere in the United States. But how would he get to a country without an extradition treaty? In theory, he was loaded, but Helen Raptis’s attorneys had frozen his assets, and his attorneys hadn’t had time to get him access to his money.

Using an ATM was out of the question. The police would swoop down as soon as he used a debit or credit card. And where could he go while he figured out what to do? The police would have his house staked out. Then Carasco remembered a place he could go where no one would think of looking for him.

Carasco slammed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. He tried to calm his breathing so he could think clearly. When his breathing was normal, he started to turn on the lights, but he stopped. Lights would be a giveaway that someone was in the apartment. So would his car, which he’d parked out front. He’d have to move it before dawn. There was visitor parking that couldn’t be seen from the entrance to the complex.

When his eyes adjusted to the dark, Carasco went into the den, which did not have windows, and flipped on the lights. He dropped onto the chair behind the desk and rested his head in his hands. His plan had been foolproof. Everything had gone smoothly. Lattimore was on trial, the evidence against him was overwhelming. How had it all gone to hell so quickly?

Maybe Bash would keep his mouth shut. What if he didn’t? Carasco had to plan for the worst-case scenario. He had to get away, and he needed money to do that, but where would he get enough money to…?

Carasco sat up. Of course, it was the obvious solution. The judge laughed with relief. Then he made a call.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

It was dark on Rostov’s block, and there were only a few scattered streetlights. A light rain was keeping everyone inside. Jeff pulled to the curb down the street from Rostov’s house. Robin couldn’t see any lights, and no car was parked in the driveway.

“Maybe he went somewhere else,” Jeff said.

“Damn, you might be right. He had a head start on us. If he were coming here, he’d be here by now.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Let’s watch the house. If he doesn’t show up, we can leave or…”

“Or what?” Jeff asked, worried by Robin’s tone of voice.

“We could search for the recording.”

“That’s called burglary, Robin. It can get you double digits in the state penitentiary.”

“What if the recording is in Rostov’s house and it shows Bash taking Joe’s hand wraps? Joe