Near Dark (Scot Harvath #19)(40)
It was now Harvath’s turn to pretend as if he were reflecting. Finally, he said, “Don’t remember that part.”
Levi knew that was a lie. He also knew, just by looking at him, that Harvath knew it as well.
“The last thing I said to you,” the shrink stated, “was that I was positive you could come back stronger, but that it had to be your choice. You had to want it badly enough to do the work.”
“Maybe I don’t want it badly enough.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe whatever you want,” said Harvath. “It’s not my problem.”
They were now halfway to the green and Levi stopped. “Tell me what happened in Florida.”
He was pissing Harvath off. “For fuck’s sake,” he replied. “Let it go.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“What I know, is that you work for the CIA and I don’t. Therefore, you have no authority over me.”
“Scot—”
Harvath held up his hand and cut him off. “This isn’t happening. I’m not interested in being analyzed.”
Levi was about to respond when a golf cart pulled off the path and sped toward them. Harvath recognized Lance Corporal Garcia behind the wheel.
“You’re wanted back at Laurel,” she said, coming to a stop next to him.
“Now?”
“Right away.”
Harvath looked at Levi as he climbed into the cart. “A hundred bucks says you miss that putt.”
Feigning disapproval, the doctor removed the scorecard and pencil from his pocket, and pretended to make another note. “Since last session, subject also seems to have developed a distinctly sadistic streak.”
Harvath made a finger gun, pretended to shoot the doc in each knee, and then gestured for Garcia to move out.
CHAPTER 18
Nicholas was where Harvath had left him, sitting behind his laptop in the conference room. Lawlor was nowhere to be seen.
As the dogs rose to greet him, Harvath showed them a little attention and then asked, “What do you have?”
“I think I found your truck driver.”
“The Lithuanian?”
Nicholas nodded. “Apparently, he had a somewhat nasty accident. Except nobody thinks it was an accident.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, he’s alive, but pretty banged up.”
The little man turned his laptop around so Harvath could get a look at the screen. It showed a man with two black eyes, a fat lip, and a nose that appeared as if it had been broken. “Is this your guy?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” Harvath replied. “What happened? Where’d you get that photo?”
“The Lithuanian state health database. All medical records in the country are electronic. According to his file, two weeks ago Mr. Antanas Luk?a said he had been in a car accident.”
“He looks like he went through the windshield.”
“In addition to his facial injuries, he had four broken ribs, and his right hand and left knee had been shattered.”
Harvath watched as Nicholas scrolled through the rest of the injury photos. When he was done, Harvath asked, “What did you mean by nobody thinks it was an accident?”
“Mr. Luk?a changed his story to the doctor. First, he said he had been driving his truck when it happened. Then, when the doctor told him he would need verification from his employer for a work-related injury, he said he had actually been driving his personal vehicle at the time.”
“That’s weird.”
“It gets weirder,” Nicholas continued. “I’ve managed to track down both vehicles, but I can’t find any police or insurance reports dealing with the alleged accident.”
“The guy was a smuggler. We couldn’t have been the first load of cargo he had ever helped sneak into or out of Kaliningrad. Maybe something happened and he didn’t want his legit employer to know. If he damaged his boss’s truck, maybe he paid in cash to get it fixed and keep it quiet.”
“Whatever it was, he definitely wanted to keep it quiet.”
“What do you mean?” asked Harvath.
“If I’m translating the file correctly, before he went to the hospital for treatment, Mrs. Luk?a had reached out to their general practice doctor. She didn’t mention any car accident. Instead, she claimed that he’d had a fall, but was okay and merely in pain. She wanted the doctor to prescribe painkillers. But because it was a weekend and his office was closed, the doc recommended he go to the emergency room.”
“Interesting.”
“There’s more. Not only did Mr. Luk?a change his story with the ER physician, he was also evasive when it came to providing details. The physician said the whole visit was ‘suspicious.’ In fact, he wrote in his notes that it looked like Mr. Luk?a had been beaten up. Drawing attention to his patient’s shattered right hand and left knee, he indicated that it looked like Mr. Luk?a had been struck, repeatedly, with a blunt instrument—most likely a hammer.”
“And like I told you,” said Harvath, “his truck was a manual. It’s one thing to beat a guy up, but if you break his right hand and left knee, he’s not going to be working the stick and the clutch for a while.”