Page 85 of Ground Truth

“Sounds good,” Drake said.

“Make it two,” Flint replied.

“Rum runners? Rum punch? Red Stripe?” the bartender asked, naming a few local favorites.

“Too early in the day.” Flint shook his head sadly. “Iced tea, please.”

Drake held up two fingers.

“Two iced teas coming up. I’m Sammy. Let me know if you need anything else.” The bartender grinned and left to put their orders in.

Flint glanced around the room. Two strangers sitting at the bar seemed to have lost its curiosity factor for the other patrons. They’d returned to their private conversations.

“Looks like a few of these folks work at the hospital,” Flint said quietly.

Drake cocked his head toward two men seated halfway down on his right. They were engaged in a quiet but serious conversation.

The men looked similar enough to be brothers. One was slightly older than the other. A year or two, at most. Both had brown eyes, close-cropped hair, and dark skin.

One was wearing green surgical scrubs and running shoes. The other was dressed in a khaki uniform and boots. On his breast pocket was a logo patch.

When the older one turned his torso toward Flint, he could read the patch.

Atabei Crematorium

“That’s curious,” Flint said quietly, tilting his head toward the two men. “Why does Atabei need a crematorium?”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked.

“Population here is only two thousand full-time residents. Death and cremation rates being what they are, how can he run an expensive operation like that with only ten cases a year?”

“Good question.” Drake shrugged. “So what are they really doing, then?”

“Only one way to find out. Sammy asks, I went to the men’s room,” Flint told Drake quietly. Truthfully, he added, “I’m not feeling well. Damned concussion.”

“Where are you really going?” Drake asked.

-

Chapter 43

Otis Jarsdel kept an open mind, and he believed in serendipity. Dogged determination took him only so far. He solved cases by employing a combination of hard work and following his whims.

His process was far from scientific.

Which was why, this afternoon, he’d stood on the street at the exact location where the balloon video had been recorded before the royal wedding.

The video itself was serendipity, wasn’t it? The balloon, the boy, the horseman. Hollywood directors with unlimited budgets couldn’t have choreographed that scene as perfectly.

Add into the mix that the woman had been standing just there, near that streetlight pole, when the balloon escaped from the boy’s grubby fingers.

And the entire scene had been captured by the BBC’s news coverage of the royal wedding.

The balloon scene had delighted the crowd on the day of the wedding. Which was good enough. But later, the video aired on the news coverage of the day’s events. Still later, it captured imaginations online as the short clip went viral on social media.

Overall, countless millions had watched the boy, the balloon, and the horseman.

More importantly for Jarsdel’s purposes, they’d seen the woman.

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