The Burglar by Philip Buckland

2017·0.63 MB·English

by  Philip Buckland

The Burglar

by Philip Buckland

A Rich Chandler mystery

The Burglar

A Rich Chandler mystery

by Philip Buckland
Also by Philip Buckland:

The Frank Hurley series

The Cranston Occurrence

The Hiders

Lois Latham

Invisible, We’re Here

The Live End

The Apollo Bureau spy series

A Scientist is Missing

Expose to Danger

The Rich Chandler series

Incommunicado

Copyright 2016 Philip Buckland

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CHAPTER I

Dean Connelly, special agent for the FBI
station here in Bellingham, Washington was
walking through the parking lot of the place
where he had been conducting his
undercover investigation, so he could go to
his car and get into it and go home. He had
put in another day of work here at this place.
Now it was time for him to go home and rest
up and recuperate and do whatever he
wanted to do tonight. And then tomorrow,
he was going to go back to work.
When Dean, a tall, slender man with the
sort of reptilian good looks you associate
with a non-poisonous snake, and wearing a
green suit, a light blue shirt, no tie, open
collar, and black leather shoes, reached his
silver gray Bronco, he unlocked it and got
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into it, and then he started it up and turned
on the radio and drove out of the parking lot
and turned onto the street and drove down
the street and listened to the radio.
The burnt orange Camaro was parked
across the street from the place that Dean
was spying on. The driver of the Camaro saw
Dean leave the place and started up his car
and made a U-turn and drove down the
street so he could follow Dean.
He was following Dean now. Staying far
behind him to make sure he didn't see him,
but at the same time, he was keeping Dean
in his sights so he won't lose him.
Here inside Dean's car, Dean felt
something stick into the back of his head. It
felt like it was made of metal.
"Don't turn around," a voice told Dean.
"And don't look into the rear mirror, and
don’t look into the side view mirror. Instead,
just look forward."
Dean did what the voice told him to do.
"Now," the voice continued. "Pull over
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where you can."
Dean looked for a place to pull over at.
Then he found it. Then he pulled up to the
curb and brought his car to a complete stop.
"Now," the voice said. "Park the car."
Dean parked the car. Then the person
who was in the back seat of the car looked
around to make sure that no one was going
to see what he was going to do next. No one
was here. Then he knocked Dean out by
tapping the back of Dean's head with his .38
automatic. Now Dean was out cold. Then
the person put his gun into his shoulder
holster, and then he got out of the back seat
of Dean's car and stood in the street.
He was tall, thin, almost emaciated, had
sandy hair, a matching mustache splitting
his tapering wolf like features in two, dark
green eyes, and he was wearing a white
cowboy hat and a white windbreaker and a
dark green T-shirt and blue jeans and white
tennis shoes.
Then he closed the door to the back seat
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of Dean's car, and then he looked around
again to make sure no one was going to see
what he was going to do now. No one was
around. Then he opened the door on the
driver's side of the front seat of Dean's car
and pushed Dean over to the passenger side
of the front seat of Dean's car.
The driver of the Camaro came along and
saw what the man with the wolflike features
was doing and pulled up to the curb and
behind Dean's car and parked his car, and
then he got out of his car and looked around
to make sure no one was going to see what
he was going to do. He was three inches
smaller than the man with the wolflike
features, had brown hair, blue eyes, a big
nose sticking out of his coarse, pale face,
broad shoulders, a thick build, and he was
wearing a green windbreaker and a black
shirt, no tie, open collar, and brown pants
and black tennis shoes.
When he noticed that no one was here,
he ran over to the other side of Dean's car
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