Running Hot - Jacob long (classic book list txt) 📗

struggled to her feet. “Wait! Where are you going?”
Reed looked back at her. “I’m going back to New York. We can’t be seen together anyways, so you should find someplace to hide for yourself, too.”
Laurel was outraged at Reed’s sudden apathy. “But what about them? We need to clear our names; and they deserve justice!”
Reed got angry too. “Justice? Whose justice? David’s? He’s dead; he doesn’t care anymore! Admit it Laurel; it’s your justice! You want revenge!” Reed turned and began walking out of the alley again.
Laurel was quiet for an agonizingly long time. Finally she yelled, “Yes.”
Reed stopped just at the end of the alley and turned around. “Yes, what?”
“Yes. It’s true,” Laurel squeaked.
Reed stomped toward her. “What’s true, Laurel? Say it!”
“I want revenge!” she screamed. “They took everything from me and I want to make them pay!”
Reed was quiet for a time; simply studying her face. The only noise in the alley was Laurel’s rapturous breathing.
“Okay,” Reed said; soothingly, now. “You’re going through an experience that will challenge you. Maybe you’ll come out the other side more human.”
Laurel sniffled and moaned; then grabbed Reed around the waist and hugged him for comfort. Reed wrapped his arms around her too.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered to her. “I’ll help.”
Laurel raised her head to look hopefully at Reed through tear drenched eyes. “Oh, you will? Thank you!” she screamed.
She put her hands on each side of Reed’s face and pulled him down to her lips. She kissed him. She just wanted to thank him at first; but she held him there. What was meant to be a quick kiss turned into something more; a sadness and a longing they both felt was revealed now for their mutual edification.
Reed was the one who finally pulled away. He knew that she was mourning and vulnerable and didn’t want to exploit it. After he did though, it seemed like a bad idea. The expression on her face was one of rejection and misunderstanding. Reed felt sorry for her.
After a long while of silence Reed said, “Do you know where we should go from here?”
Laurel’s expression was blank. “No, I don’t.”
“Did David have any back up files; anything hidden away just in case he would meet an unfortunate end?” Reed asked.
“I don’t think so,” Laurel mumbled.
“Well we need to start somewhere if we’re going to clear ourselves,” Reed said flatly. “Maybe your husband took the first step for us…. let’s go.”
Reed walked away and soon Laurel followed. “We’re going to walk?” she asked. “But… I’m still in my robe!”

Matt Brice was talking to Kowalski in Prisoner Management after the fiasco in the parking garage.
“So I guess Smith was legit after all,” Kowalski said.
“Why?” Matt asked. He was sitting on the desk.
Kowalski shot him an incredulous look. “Well, for one, that Reed guy shot him.”
“Yeah, in the leg,” Matt put in. “When he put two in Davis’ chest.”
“Whatever,” Kowalski waved him away. “This also just came from the District Attorney’s office.”
Kowalski handed Matt a paper that called for the immediate release of prisoner number 96438 “John Doe.”
“Geez,” Matt breathed.
“Brice!” Sergeant Nitch’s voice boomed over the other noises in the lobby.
Matt turned and saw him standing at the front door to his office. He motioned for Matt to come in. Matt slipped off the desk and walked over. Another officer, Officer Greenwich, closed the door behind him. Greenwich was a large black man with a big black mustache and sinewy arms. Sergeant Nitch looked a tad smaller in comparison with a brownish-red mustache of his own and a face mapped with worry lines that made him look older than he really was.
“You said you saw the perp on your way down to the garage, right?” Nitch’s rough voice was instantly official sounding.
“Yes sir,” Matt answered. “I didn’t recognize him at first. That’s why I didn’t apprehend him.”
“You recognize him now though? As in you’ve seen him before?” Nitch asked.
“Yes sir. As you know I’m from New York; and I’ve seen this guy several times on news broadcasts,” Matt said. “The man who referred to himself as Reed Smith to Officer Hutchison is really Reed Newton; a bank robber, among other things. I pulled up his file if you want to see it.”
“Where do you think they’d go next?” Nitch asked bluntly.
“Oh, I don’t know sir,” Matt shook his head. “They could be running for state borders right now. Then again, Newton could have an ulterior motive and they’re returning to Ms. Jacobs' house. I find it hard to believe this doesn’t have anything to do with money.”
Nitch stroked his mustache in thought. “Alright; get the file on Reed and bring it back here.”
Matt was visibly elated. “Alright, I’ll be back in just a second.” In another moment Matt had zipped out of the room.
The sergeant motioned to Greenwich. “Go check out the Jacobs residence.”
Without a word, Greenwich left.
Matt came bursting back in with an inch-thick file. “Reed Newton,” he announced; flopping the file onto the desk.
Nitch raised his eyebrows in surprise and he slipped on his glasses. “Is this all on Reed Newton?”
“Yes; and all of the cases he’s believed to be involved with,” Matt said. “But no one’s been able to pin them on him, exactly.”
Matt started giggling hysterically.
After Nitch opened the file he looked at Matt over the rims of his glasses and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Smith and Hutchison really didn’t know what they were getting themselves into when they picked him up,” Matt chortled. “This guy’s the real deal; a genius. He’s done it all; robbery, murder, extortion, kidnapping; the list goes on and on. And he does them all with intelligence and precision. If I were to create the perfect criminal, this is the guy I’d create. You could leave this guy at the North Pole in a bikini and without his toothbrush and two weeks later he’d show up at your doorstep with a million-dollar smile and a score to settle.”

5)
“Are you some sort of killer?”

The sun was hot on the backs of Reed and Laurel. It had reached its zenith; telling Reed it was after noon. They’d been walking along South Broadway for more than an hour and Laurel was starting to lag behind.
“Come on. You can make it,” Reed encouraged half-heartedly.
“We’ve been walking for hours!” Laurel screamed.
“No we haven’t.” Reed ignored her plaintive cry.
Suddenly Laurel shouted, “Look, there’s Fairview Street! We’re almost there!”
Laurel quickened her pace and passed Reed. She turned left down the street and stopped in front of her house. Reed hadn’t changed his pace and caught up to her a minute later. The house was mostly black and half of it had collapsed while the fire ate its way through. Laurel sniffled again at the sight of her ruined house. Reed walked by her and ducked inside. Laurel’s eyes welled up but she followed nonetheless.
Reed entered what used to be the living room and tipped over the couch; then he stripped the bottom off and poked around inside. Laurel screamed and Reed immediately went for his gun.
“What are doing to my couch!” she yelled.
Reed sighed and brought his hand back from under his jacket. “Geez,” he breathed.
“I don’t think he could’ve hid something in my couch without my knowledge,” she said.
“Well, he did have a death sentence on him you didn’t know about,” Reed rebutted.
Laurel shook her head and peered around the room. Suddenly she let out an, “Ohh,” and moved to the other side.
Reed moved the couch back to its neutral position and started rifling through the bookshelf.
Laurel picked up a photo album off the floor and brushed off the ashes. Upon opening it she felt a fresh wave of emotion. She sat down on the couch and gazed thoughtfully at the pictures of her wedding.
She ran her hands along a head shot of David and said, “I guess we parted.”
Reed was getting furious at the apparent fruitlessness of this inquiry and was pacing around; uttering curse words from time to time.
Laurel continued to flip through the pages until she came to David’s private pictures. They were in an opaque package sealed with a small lock. Laurel smiled at fond memories and looked about the room. Maybe the key is still here.
Laurel stood and walked over to the fireplace. She reached into the back of the pit and pulled out the small brass object. She sat back down and stuck the key into the lock. Upon turning it, the lock snapped open. Laurel flipped open the book and began looking at each photo David took of her in all of her curvaceous glory.
As Reed was storming about the place in a whirlwind of evidential search and rescue he passed behind the couch and noticed what she was looking at. In spite of himself he let out a spontaneous, “Woah!”
Laurel immediately covered her nakedness with her hand. “Hey! Privacy Mister!”
“No; this!” Reed reached down and pulled a small, stainless steel security box out of a pouch in the back of the book.
Despite herself, Laurel was a little dismayed at Reed’s lack of interest in her body.
“Have you seen this before?” Reed asked.
Laurel shook her head. “No.”
“This is a high-tech portable security box.” Reed held the box out for her to see. “If I was going to hide something, it would be in here.”
“So, do we need a key?” Laurel asked.
“No; this one is more expensive than that. It’s locked with an audio password mechanism,” Reed mused. “Normally if I were to open this I’d get the guy who programmed it but someone took that opportunity from us.”
Laurel looked down at the floor; reminded once again that David died in a horrible murder.
Reed looked at her for a brief moment; then said, “Usually the password is something sentimental, so maybe you should try to open it.” He pushed the device into her hands.
Laurel was uncertain as she raised the speaker to her face. “Um…Laurel?...Law?...Umm…Football?...The Jets?”
The box was unresponsive.
“I don’t know,” she said finally.
“Alright,” Reed breathed. “We’ll keep trying; but we can’t stay here. Where does that coroner you mentioned work?”
“Um… Cooper University Hospital, I think,” Laurel answered.
“Okay, let’s go,” Reed said.
“Wait!” Laurel stopped him. “I want to change into some actual clothes before we go.”
Reed sighed, “Fine.”


Across the city, Devlin was cruising into town with a very bored Angela Cook in the passenger seat. Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child” was playing on the radio. Angela was singing along word for word.
“Well I stand up next to a mountain…and I chop it down with the edge of my hand! Hy-yah!” she sang, making a ferocious chopping motion. Of course she struck the dashboard and she screamed in pain. “Ohh! Ow that hurt!” she giggled.
Devlin shook his head.
Angela was a very beautiful girl. Her hair was a long and wavy brownish-black and her trademark pure white dresses accented her clear complexion and gave her an angelic radiance. She was the picture of innocence; unfortunately not so in reality. She stole often and conned several people out of thousands of dollars; including Reed once.
“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked as she rubbed her hand.
Devlin nodded. “Yes; we’re on North 3rd Street, and once we turn right we’ll be right there with Reed waiting for us.”
They did just so but found that Reed was not there. Devlin pulled into a spot in the parking lot and they got out.
“Well where is he?” Angela yelled.
“He’ll be here,” Devlin assured