Cam - 04 - Nightwalkers
Read Cam - 04 - Nightwalkers Online
Authors: P. T. Deutermann
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Private Investigators, #Action & Adventure, #Stalkers, #North Carolina, #Plantation Owners, #Richter; Cam (Fictitious Character), #Plantations
| Nightwalkers | |
| Cam [4] | |
| P. T. Deutermann | |
| (2009) | |
| Rating: | **** |
| Tags: | Private Investigators, Plantation Owners, Action & Adventure, Mystery & Detective, Richter; Cam (Fictitious Character), Stalkers, North Carolina, General, Plantations, Fiction |
A cast of eccentric Southern characters, several of whom could have escaped from the pages of
Gone with the Wind
, lifts Deutermann's winning fourth novel to feature PI Cam Richter (after
The Moonpool
). Cam, tired of suburban life, is buying Glory's End, a rundown plantation in Rockwell County, N.C. First, he must deal with a modern-day œghost—in cop parlance, someone just released from prison who decides to get revenge on the person who put him in jail. Then it's on to an even deadlier, more mysterious malefactor who's trying to kill him for reasons unknown. Cam's next door neighbors are Valeria Lee and her mother, Hester, who along with their lunatic relative, Maj. Courtney Woodruff Lee, dress and live in a strange antebellum past. The major likes to wear Confederate gray while spending his nights riding horseback around the countryside looking for Yankee spies. Cam's German shepherds, Frick, Frack and Kitty, help propel the action to an electrifying conclusion.
(June)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Praise for P.T. Deutermann’s
THE MOONPOOL
“Exciting…Chilling.… Thriller fans will look forward to further entries in this fine series.”—_Publishers Weekly _
“Richter is an easygoing, likable series hero, and Deutermann has a strong, fluid writing style.… The series is still relatively young, but it’s already proven to be a winner.”—_Booklist_
SPIDER MOUNTAIN
“Fast-paced… imaginative plotting.”—_Publishers Weekly_
“Another pulse-pounding thrill ride…An unnerving, tightly-woven thriller.”—_Cincinatti Library_
“The stuff of series heroes...a battle royal.”—_Kirkus Reviews_
“Non-stop action.”—Mysterylovers.com
“One of the crime genre’s more original and memorable creations…a welcome change from the usual sort of thriller villain.”—_Booklist_
Praise for
THE CAT DANCERS
“A spellbinding novel of suspense…quite possibly his best.”—Nelson DeMille
HUNTING SEASON
“Explosive tour de force…. The author exceeds his near-perfect _Train Man
with this ripped-from-the-headlines-plot pitting a middle-aged Rambo with a small but deadly arsenal of spy gadgets against spine-chilling villains, corrupt agency brass and powerful political forces. Deutermann never sounds a wrong note in this nonstop page-turner.”—
Publishers Weekly _(starred review)
“You think you have read this before. Trust me. You haven’t. And you should…a great read.”
—_Tribune _(Greensburg, PA)
“One of the lasting conventions in thriller-writing involves putting the hero in a situation where the reader is forced to ask, ‘How can he possibly get out of that?’…Deutermann…exploits that convention to the hilt in
Hunting Season.”
—_Houston Chronicle_
“Enough techno and black ops to satisfy Clancy fans, enough double-dealing, back pedaling internecine treachery to keep Carre fans reading and enough plot turns and suspense to keep Crichton and Higgins Clark devotees guessing.” —_The Florida Times-Union_
“Deutermann’s previous novel,
Train Man
, was a marvelous, bang-up action novel…in
Hunting Season
he equals the thrills…Deutermann writes with authority and inventiveness. Add in top-secret gizmos, heroes meaner than villains…and you’ve got one of the best by one of the best at what he does.” —_Telegraph
[Macon, GA]
_
“The tale is loaded with political and bureaucratic skullduggery, and there are plenty of well-banked curves and clever twists. A solid read from an author whose own tradecraft is every bit as good as that of his characters.”—_Booklist___
“Deutermann has sold three novels to Hollywood already. They’re blind if they pass on this one.”—_Kirkus Reviews_
NIGHTWALKERS
B
OOKS BY
P. T. D
EUTERMANN
THE CAM RICHTER NOVELS
The Cat Dancers
Spider Mountain
The Moonpool
Nightwalkers
THRILLERS
The Firefly
Darkside
Hunting Season
Train Man
Zero Option
Sweepers
Official Privilege
NAVY ADVENTURE NOVELS
The Edge of Honor
Scorpion in the Sea
P. T. DEUTERMANN
St. Mart in's Press
New York
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
NIGHTWALKERS
. Copyright 2009 by P. T. Deutermann. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Deutermann, Peter T., 1941-
Nightwalkers
P.T. Deutermann. -- 1st ed.font>p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-0-31237241-5
ISBN-10: 0-312-37241-8
1. Private investigators--Fiction. 2. Plantation owners--Fiction. 3. Plantations--North Carolina--Fiction. 4. Stalkers--Fiction. 5. North Carolina--Fiction. I. Title.
PS3554.E887N54 2009
813'.54--dc22
2009007280
First Edition: June 2009
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
NIGHTWALKERS
T
hey came out of the darkness, riding lean, hungry horses. The engineer put down his unlit pipe and reached for the shotgun in the cab, but then relaxed. The riders were Reb cavalry, not goddamned bluecoats. He could tell by their slouch hats, the mishmash of uniforms and weapons, and those big CS belt buckles gleaming in the engine's headlight. The officer who appeared to be in charge rode right up to the locomotive. The others slowed to a walk and spread out in a fan around the train's guard detail, who were lounging in the grass beside the tracks while the engine took on water. The riders were greeting the men with soft drawls and questions about what was going on up there in Richmond city.
The officer wore the insignia of a major, and he tipped his hat to the engineer with his left hand while holding the reins close down to the saddle with his right. He was wearing a dirty white duster that concealed the lower half of his body.
"Major Prentice Lambert, at your service, suh," he declared. He had a hard, hatchet-shaped face with black eyes and fierce eyebrows. "This the documents train?"
The engineer said yes, a little surprised that the major knew. There were only four cars behind the engine and its tender, three of them passenger cars stuffed to the windows with boxes of official records from the various government departments up in Richmond. The
twenty-man guard detail rode in the fourth car, but they were all disembarked for a smoke break and calls of nature. The guards, who were an odd mixture of old men, teenagers, and even some walking wounded from the trenches at Petersburg, seemed relieved to see Confederate cavalry.
The major nodded, as if the engineer's answer were hugely significant. The engine puffed a shot of steam from the driver cylinder, spooking the major's horse sideways, but his rider held him firmly.
"Any more trains behind you?" the major asked, shifting his reins to his left hand as the horse danced around.
The engineer shook his head. "We heard ol' Jeff Davis took one south two nights ago, but ain't nothin' comin' down thisaway that I know of. Jig's 'bout up in Richmond."
"All right, then," the major said. He raised the big Colt Dragoon he'd been holding down beside his saddle horn, pointed it at the engineer's belly, and fired.
The engineer sat down hard on the steel grate of the engine cab, the wind knocked clean out of him and this awful, ripping feeling in his guts. He grasped his midsection with both hands and felt the blood streaming. He was dimly aware of more shooting now, as that arc of cavalrymen also opened fire, shooting down the stunned soldiers where they sat in the grass or leaned against trees, all their weapons still back on the train. He bent over to look down at his middle, lost his balance, tumbled off the engine steps onto the cinder bed, and then rolled into the grass. His knees stung where he'd hit the track bed, but then that pain faded and he relaxed into the sweet feel of that long, cool grass against his cheek. His middle was going cold now, and his legs were buzzing with pins and needles.
He looked back up at the train, his vision shrinking into a redhazed tunnel. He saw a single white face at the nearest window in the front car, a young face, no more than a kid, maybe fifteen, sixteen. One of the guards? He tasted salt in the back of his throat, and it was becoming really hard to get a breath of air.
Why hadn't that kid gotten off the train? What was he doing in there among all those boxes, while his comrades outside were being slaughtered like beeves?
One of the horsemen saw the kid's face and surged his horse forward, his black cap-and-ball pistol pointing at the window. The engineer heard the major's voice call out, "No. Not him. Leave that one be."
The horseman reined up. "That's your spy? That boy?"
"Train was right here when it was supposed to be, weren't it?"
"Yeah, but you said, now. No goddamned witnesses."
"There won't be," the major said, getting down off his horse, "but I need to know one more thing."
Then the engineer heard the other horseman swear. He realized he'd been spotted, eavesdropping on their conversation. He tried to crawl up the bank, trying to get under the locomotive, but his limbs had turned to rubber. He thought he heard the major say, "Oh, goddammit," and then a bolt of lightning exploded in his head and he was gone to see the Baby Jesus.