The Pied Piper of Death Read Free Page A

to look at his friend impassively, with only the slight suggestion of a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes. “One riot needs one cop.”
    â€œOh, God, that’s an old Texas Ranger saw,” Lyon said.
    â€œAre you implying that small-town Connecticut cops aren’t as macho as Texas Rangers? You’ll never park unticketed in downtown Murphysville again, Mister.” He turned toward the remaining crowd. “You heard me! Everyone go home.”
    The protesters stood stubbornly immobile for a moment until a slight ripple of movement seemed to infect them. They began to disperse in small clumps that ambled back down the lane toward their cars. Rocco turned toward Bea, who was helping the injured woman to her feet. “Is she all right or do you want me to call for an ambulance?”
    â€œI’m okay,” the woman answered. Her eyes flashed. “I don’t blame the worker who did this. Peyton Piper is the one who God will make pay the penalty—with his life if necessary.”
    â€œTry the courts first, Mrs. Hinton,” Rocco said.
    â€œI’ll be your witness,” Bea said as she handed the woman a business card. “I saw everything that happened.”
    The injured woman nodded and hobbled slowly after the dispersing group.
    Harry, the supervisor, brushed rotting vegetable garbage off his uniform as he approached Rocco. His men intuitively formed a protective shield on either side. “She’s the ringleader,” he said as he pointed a finger at Bea Wentworth. “I demand that she be arrested. I want an example made here, Chief. I have security camera shots of this loudmouth standing on the hood of her car exhorting the group to attack. She incited them to riot. She’s the leader and the worst of the lot and I’m personally going to prefer charges.”
    The two guards on either side of Harry stepped forward to grab Bea’s arms. Lyon started toward them but was restrained by Rocco.
    â€œDo I get shoved in a lineup?” Bea asked Rocco.
    â€œI happen to know for a fact that you’re a born troublemaker,” the police chief replied.
    â€œI’m in hot water up to my ass, Chief,” the guard lieutenant said to Rocco. “Mr. Piper is expecting some bigwig state senator for a meeting with the congressman. This would be the night those idiots picked for their fun and games. They have screwed me to the wall, and she’s responsible. I want to see this broad strung up so high she twists in the wind.”
    â€œI can pony up a dozen charges if you want, Harry,” Rocco said. “We’ll start off with trespassing and then move on to inciting to riot, indecent exposure …”
    Bea tore her arm away from a guard to shake a finger at Rocco. “I resent the indecent exposure bit.”
    â€œThat’s a generic charge for all politicians,” Rocco said.
    â€œThanks, Chief, I really appreciate it,” Harry said. “We need to set an example for the rest of these feminazi pinkos.”
    â€œJust tell Mr. Piper that his important meeting will be indefinitely delayed,” Rocco said over his shoulder as he snapped handcuffs on Bea and marched her toward the cruiser.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œTell him that Senator Wentworth can’t join him tonight, but she might be released late Monday afternoon after the judge sets bail.”

T WO
    The security lieutenant made a series of strange gurgling noises in his throat before he lurched after Rocco and Bea. Lyon leaned nonchalantly against one of the massive gate pillars guarding the entrance to the estate. He felt something digging into his shoulder and turned to read the brass plaque fixed to the stone and displaying a raised word in gold letters: BRIDGEWAY . That name recalled a distant memory. He vaguely remembered a Piper family anecdote Peyton had told years ago at a college keg party. If he remembered correctly, some sort of Civil War doings in Piper