Fade Away

Chapter 40

By the time Myron arrived at the arena, the game was over. Cars tapped the exits, making it hard to go the opposite way. Myron managed to weave through. He showed his ID to the guard and drove into the players’ lot.

He ran to Clip’s office. Someone called his name. He ignored it. When he reached the outer office door, he tried the knob. It was locked. He was tempted to break it down.

“Yo, Myron.”

It was one of the towel boys. Myron forgot the kid’s name. “What’s up?” he said.

“This came for you.”

The kid handed Myron a manila envelope.

“Who dropped this off?” Myron asked.

“Your uncle.”

“My uncle?”

“That’s what the guy said.”

Myron looked at the envelope. His name was scrawled across the front in giant block letters. He tore it open and turned it upside down. First, a letter slid out. He shook again and a black cassette tape fell into the palm of his hand. He put the cassette down and unfolded the letter:

Myron,

I should have given this to you at the cathedral. I’m sorry I didn’t, but I got too caught up in Liz’s murder. I wanted you to concentrate on catching the killer, not on this tape. I was afraid it would distract you. I still think it will, but that doesn’t give me the right to keep it from you. I just hope you stay focused enough to find the bastard who killed Liz. She deserves justice.

I also wanted to tell you that I’m thinking about turning myself in. Now that Liz is gone, there’s no reason to keep hiding. I spoke to some old lawyer buddies about it. They’ve already started reaching out to all the mercenaries Hunt’s father hired. They’re sure one of them will corroborate my story. We’ll see.

Don’t listen to this tape alone, Myron. Listen to it with a friend.

Cole

Myron folded the letter. He had no idea what to think. He glanced down the corridor. No sign of Clip. He jogged toward the exit. Most of the players had already left the arena. TC, of course. Last in, first out. Myron got in his car and turned the key. Then he stuck the tape into the car’s player and waited.

Esperanza tried dialing Myron’s car phone. No answer. Then his cellular. Same deal. He always carried his cellular. If he wasn’t picking up, it was because he didn’t want to. She quickly dialed Win’s cellular. He picked up on the second ring.

“Do you know where Myron is?” she asked.

“He went to the arena.”

“Go find him, Win.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“The Raven Brigade robbed the safe-deposit boxes. That’s where they got the information they used to blackmail Downing.”

“What did they find?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but I have a list of the people who rented the boxes.”

“So?”

“One was rented to a Mr. and Mrs. B. Wesson.”

Silence.

Win said, “Are you sure it’s the same B. Wesson who injured Myron?”

“I already checked,” she said. “The B stands for Burt, listed on his application as a thirty-three-year-old high school basketball coach. It’s him, Win. It’s the same Burt Wesson.”