CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The long drive back to Finchley gave Nash time to ponder.
It had been something that Agent Long had said. “They are all meeting at the Sheriff’s Office.”
Who was? Who had summoned him back to Finchley? And why?
As they reached the outskirts of Albany, Nash asked the driver to stop outside a small electrical store.
The cabby pulled over, and Nash disappeared inside. The driver looked at the meter that was clocking up the dollars.
Nash soon came back out holding a new cell phone. He slid onto the back seat and told the driver to go.
As the guy put the shift into gear and got back onto the street, Nash got to work on activating the phone.
A seventies tune played on the cab’s radio. A piece of happy, toe-tapping music by a group Nash had forgotten the name of. Nash
