The Investigator Audiobook

The Investigator Audiobook
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The Investigator Audiobook – John Sandford

Letty Davenport, US Marshal Lucas Davenport’s adopted daughter, who first appeared in 2003’s Naked Prey, takes center stage in this welcome series spin-off from Sandford bestseller Sandford.

Letty is bored with her job in Washington, D.C., working for Senator Christopher Colles, until her unauthorized actions reveal that two of his staff members stole hundreds of thousands of dollars from the politician’s campaign funds. Colles, impressed by her initiative, offers her an acceptable alternative when she resigns from her job in the hope of finding something more suited to her thirst for action.

As a member of a committee overseeing the Department of Homeland Security, he is able to hire Letty as a researcher to investigate reports that a gang of robbers stole hundreds of thousands of barrels of crude oil in West Texas. Colles is concerned that the proceeds from the sale of the oil will be used to fund a national security threat. Sandford’s rounded portrayal of Letty as more than just a stock action hero, combined with the novel’s original premise, add up to one of his best books in years. Fans of Karen Sisco will be hoping for a long literary career for Letty.

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In the backside of an old brick and stucco building on the edge of downtown Tallahassee Florida 10 o’clock on a muggy evening in early September, a couple of weeks before the autumn equinox, the cleaning crew had left rattling their equipment, carts, and trash bins across the blacktop to their vans. A few people remained in the building. Two cars sat in the parking lot and there were lighted offices on the second and third floors: a young woman with crystalline blue eyes and a short brown ponytail sat behind a ragged boxwood hedge, her back against the building’s concrete foundation, a rucksack between her knees, dressed In black jeans, a black long-sleeved blouse, with a reversible red black jacket, black side out, she was no more than an undifferentiated dark lump behind the hedge. She could turn the jacket to the red side if needed, so she wouldn’t appear so obviously camouflaged for the night. A noisome mosquito buzzed her face looking for an opening to her left a vent, pooped vaguely fecal odors out of the building piece by piece, one distraction.

At a time, the young woman cleared her mind, no more odors, no more bugs she’d hunted for food as a child and she’d learned that a predator created a vibration that other animals could sense, she’d been in every sense, a predator. But if she’d put her back against a tree and cleared her mind, the vibration would fade, she’d become part of the landscape and the prey animals would go back to whatever they were doing before she arrived she’d had rabbits hop within six feet of her unalarmed before They died now with an empty mind. She had gone from being a lump to invisible, the woman was wearing one thin leather glove and the fingers of that hand were wrapped in hundred-pound test monofilament fishing line. The other end of the transparent line was tied to the loop handle of the building’s back door. She waited patiently unmoving in the dappled moonlight that filtered through the chickasaw plum trees on the edge of the parking lot at 10 minutes after 10.

The lights went out in the third-floor office and the young woman brought her mind back to the world, shouldered her pack, and took a switchblade from her hip pocket two minutes after that, a middle-aged woman carrying a heavy, lawyer’s briefcase pushed through the back door looked Both ways then scurried out to a compact, BMW, the building’s door on an automatic door. A closer hinge swung shut behind her as it was about to lock the young woman, put pressure on the fishing line, and held it. The door appeared to be closed but hadn’t latched when the departing BMW turned the corner. The young woman eased out from behind the hedge listening watching keeping a steady pressure on the fishing line she walked to the door, pulled it open, blocked it for a second with a foot, and used the blade to cut the fishing line off the door handle she Slipped inside balling, the fishing line in her gloved hand, pressed the back of the knife blade against her leg. To close, she dropped it into her pocket adrenaline beginning to kick in her heart rate.

Picking up the target office had been vacant. From six o’clock, the young woman turned left to the fire stairs and ran rapidly upward on silent soft cushioned athletic soles at the fifth and top floor. She listened for a moment behind the fire door, then opened the door and checked the hallway. The only light came from street-side windows, she hurried down the hall to 504 removed her jacket, and took the battery-powered lock rake from her pack. She couldn’t use the rake on the outer door because that door had a good security lock and she would have been standing beneath a light where she couldn’t be sure she was unobserved.

This lock was not very good. There was nothing obviously valuable inside, except some well-used office equipment. She wrapped the rake in her jacket and pulled the trigger the pick made a chattering noise muffled by the jacket, the young woman kept the pressure on the rake felt the lock begin to give, and then turn she pushed the door open and stepped inside closed the door And sat on the floor listening

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