Page 15 of Jason's Justice
“I told you to wait, Prudora.”
“I know, but I have a lot to do today, I thought I’d let you have your shower.” She turned and stuck her hand out to Jason. “Hi, I’m Pru Carter, I’m Ryan’s wife. We live in the second cabin across the way.”
“Hello, Pru, I’m Jason Black, how can I help you?”
“I have chickens, I know that’s not important, but I have a lot of eggs, I thought I’d bring some over to you, sort of a welcome to Broken thingy.”
Jason smiled and reached for the basket and frowned when he saw brown, white, blue, and pale green eggs. “Did you color these?”
“Nope, that’s how the chickens laid them. Well, I have to get back over there to finish breakfast for Ryan and myself.” She turned and left and Jason only looked at Ryan with raised brows. Before he could say anything, Ryan shook his head, grinned, and followed his wife across the dirt road.
Jason let himself back in the cabin with a small smile and a shake of his head. He turned to see Ilsa and Kevin standing there, he only frowned when Kevin put his gun back in the holster strapped to his side with a shrug.
“Who was that?” Ilsa asked as she went to opened the refrigerator to start breakfast.
“Pru, or Prudora, I’m not sure exactly what her name is. She’s Ryan’s wife, and she gave us this.” He set the basket on the table and shook his head. “Are these real?”
Ilsa looked at the eggs and frowned, then Kevin laughed as he took the basket to the kitchen. “Yes, chickens do lay different colored eggs. The color is only on the outside, the whites and yolks are still the same on the inside. Thank god for these.”
“Why?” Both Ilsa and Jason asked.
“I forgot to buy eggs yesterday. Well, technically, I didn’t forget, I refused.”
“Again, why?” Jason asked.
“They were almost ten dollars a dozen. This basket right here would have cost almost twenty-five dollars in the store. If this woman is willing to give eggs away for free, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.” Between him and Ilsa they quickly cut up vegetables, fried some sausages, and made omelets.Afterward, with verbal guidance from Ilsa, Jason cleared the table and did the dishes. Two hours after waking, they were taking the files they had out to Kevin’s truck and drove over to Erin’s Way to get started.
Once the files were unloaded, Jason and Kevin put some tables together, while Ilsa started on of the coffee pots. Kevin went over to talk to Duane about getting a lock for the outside door for when they left. All morning and afternoon the three of them read the files they had brought. Jason read the un-redacted original files from Katherine’s case, then went into Michael’s. At one point he jumped to his feet, swearing.
“What?” Ilsa asked when he seemed to wind down.
“That fucking brilliant asshole,” he shouted, and then looked at her apologetically. “Sorry for swearing.”
“As long as it isn’t aimed at me, don’t worry about it. Now, who is the asshole? And why are they brilliant?”
“Babcock.”
“Which one?” Kevin asked.
“Michael.”
“Why, what did you find that everyone missed?”
“Where’s the video from the accident?” They scrambled and Kevin brought it up on one of the laptops and Jason started playing it. “No, I’m sorry, where is the one where he’s driving and Ms. Ransome is in the front passenger seat?” They went through and found what he was looking for, and when he found the part he needed, he looked at them with a grin.
“What?” Ilsa asked.
“Close your eyes and listen very, very closely.” He made sure their eyes were closed and played the video. It was at least five minutes long and at the most crucial part, he saw understanding on their faces and paused the feed.
“Are you fucking shitting me?” Ilsa demanded.
“Why did you know that was there?” Kevin asked in shock.
“There’s a file in Ilsa’s stuff that was labeled ‘video recordings’. It doesn’t look like it was looked at a lot, because the pages are still crisp. That file is a written version of what the people in the video are saying.” He pulled the papers and held them up. “Sort of like a script as to who is talking. After reading it, I wanted to see if it was true.”
“You can nail Babcock to the wall with this?”
“Yes, along with Larry Mason, and about eight other federal agents that work out of the Los Angeles office. That’s just based on what we read and listened to.”
