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Over the years, he d had a variety of jobs under a variety of names, but his best source of information
came from working in restaurants.
When he lived inAtlanta , his name was TomUllman and he was a bartender. Hands down, he yielded
the best personal information and found the right truck most easily when he tended bar. But he also had
to listen to a lot of crap, and everyone wanted to have a conversation.
He didn t want to talk; he only wanted to listen.
He didn t work in a restaurant or bar inColorado orKentucky , but when he hitMassachusetts , his name
was Andrew Richardson and he found employment in a large, friendly restaurant in a middle-class section
ofBoston . And since he was a patient man, he was able to wait for the information he needed.
Also, in restaurants he could easily and discreetly see the parking lot. When he learned what he needed
to know, he watched the patrons leave. If they had the right type of vehicle, it was an omen that the time
was right for action.
Now he answered to Steve Williams.
Everything was coming together perfectly, as if preordained. He d already found the angel. Tonight, he d
found the truck.
He d been on Vashon for well over a year and had not only come to recognize the regulars, but knew
their vehicles and schedules. Karl andFlo Burgess were retired and lived inWest Seattle . They came to
Vashon at least once a week to eat, and usually sat in his section because he didn t have to be reminded
that Mrs. Burgess liked four olives in her vodka martini.
They owned a Ford-150 with camper shell.
He placed the tray with their change on the table.  Thank you for coming. See you next week.
He was about to walk away when Mrs. Burgess said,  We re leaving tomorrow to visit our daughter.
We won t be back for a couple of weeks.
His heart raced and he smiled.  Have a safe drive.
Karl Burgess shook his head.  I m just not up to making the drive toPhoenix this year.
 His back, Mrs. Burgess said with a half-whisper.  Growing old. She smiled and patted her husband s
hand.
 I ll see you when you return, then, he said and walked away.
He was so eager to complete his planning he could hardly complete his shift, but he forced himself to
remain patient. Everything was coming together perfectly. Tomorrow was Friday; he knew exactly where
his angel would be.
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He eavesdropped on the Burgess s conversation as they finished their coffee. Their flight left early. They
were driving to the airport. That meant long-term parking lot.
He d gotten in and out of the long-term parking lot easily inAtlanta ,Kansas City, andAustin .Seattle
would be a piece of cake.
He d gotten into the habit of hanging out after his shift for a few minutes because most of the servers did
it. He didn t want to stand out. He knew how people thought of him a friendly guy who liked his job,
working to support his art. He had some talent, and made a point of bringing in sketches to show the
crew. It gave him the necessary background so no one gave him a second thought.
He d told them he was divorced and had moved and settled onVashon Island for a change of pace.
They also believed he had a grown daughter in college, so anytime he was late or had to disappear for a
few days, he said he was visiting his daughter inOregon . Close enough for a weekend trip, but not close
enough where anyone would expect her to visit.
Success was in the details. Laying the foundation so that people believed what he wanted them to
believe. And because every story in every state was similar, he never lost track of who he pretended to
be.
But tonight, he said he was tired and left the restaurant as soon as he closed out; he walked to his
cottage a half-mile away, and went right to his room. He took out his map and his notepad and plotted
out each step for tomorrow.
Tomorrow would be the last. The thought was bittersweet. He liked thePacific Northwest . He
particularly liked living on the water. It reminded him of his early childhood, before everything changed.
When it was just him and his mother, inseparable, living on the coast in a state he barely remembered.
Before Bruce Carmichael came into their lives and stole their innocence and his mother s life. Before
Angel.
He found himself sitting on the small cottage porch watching the sky change color. The sun had already
disappeared, but it wasn t the setting sun that enticed him, it was the layers of the sky. Azure and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]