Read 5 - Choker: Ike Schwartz Mystery 5 for Free Online Page A

so I let it slide, but it has bugged me ever since. Now, it makes sense.”
    Ike punched the redial button on his phone.
    “Garland.”
    “Charlie, we have a satellite in synchronous orbit over the Washington, D.C., area and coast line, right? I need satellite photos of the Chesapeake Bay.”
    “We have the Littoral Scanning System, yes. What pictures exactly?”
    “I need distance and blow ups of the area known as Eastern Bay on the day before and the day after Nick disappeared. I might need more, I’ll start with those, as many as you can get.”
    “I’m on it. Have you turned up something?”
    “It’s just a maybe,” Ike said, and grinned at Trent. “I need those photos ASAP, Charlie. Can you messenger them to me at the beach?”
    “Can do. This is important, correct?”
    “I wouldn’t ask if they weren’t. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Ike ended the call.
    Trent frowned and studied the chart again. “If they were not even looking in the right sector…it’s no wonder they couldn’t find anything. What do you want to do?”
    “I want to study the photos as soon as they arrive, and then I’d like you to fly this line with me tomorrow. No, tomorrow’s Sunday. Maybe the next day and show me that beach.” Trent hesitated. “We’ll call it a lesson, and you can bill me at your hourly. That way you don’t use up your vacation time, tick off your boss, or both.”
    Trent looked relieved. Ike asked for a fuel top-off. When the refueler pulled away, he started the engine, adjusted his gauges and radio and, cleared by the tower, taxied onto the runway and headed south following the course Nick Reynolds flew in July. He wanted to see Eastern Bay while the light was good. Once he had a look, he’d turn eastward at Cambridge and go back to Delmarva Aviation.

Chapter 8
    Blake passed along the row of kneeling communicants. Into each outstretched hand he placed a wafer and repeated: The body of Christ, the bread of heaven. The ritual had become rote and often his mind wandered as he looked into the eyes of one or another person, trying to read their thoughts. Indeed, parishioners sometimes assumed he must be able to read their minds. More than once he’d been confronted by one who complained he’d not visited them in the hospital. And more often than not they, or a family member, had neglected to tell Blake they were scheduled for surgery, or even had been admitted. So he studied each face seeking clues as to what they might tell him if he were to ask.
    While caught up in one of those mental tangents, he nearly missed the young man’s pendant. A heavy silver chain bore what appeared to be an over-large, upside-down cross. At the crux, instead of a crucified Christ or some other Christian symbol, he saw a ram’s head, its eyes set with red stones that might have been rubies but were probably glass. Blake stopped in mid-sentence and stared at the pendant and then at the boy. He couldn’t have been much over sixteen. His hair, cut shaggy and moussed, had been dyed an unnatural black, which only emphasized the pallor of his skin and the rather prominent acne on his face. His clothes were ill-fitting—not that that was so unusual. Most boys who were dragged to church by their parents wore clothes that looked, to Blake, like they’d been rummaged out of their older brother’s closet or the reject pile at the Goodwill store. His eyes returned to the pendant. Lanny Markowitz, who had been trailing along behind Blake as chalicist, nearly bumped into him. The boy looked up and extended his hand forward to receive the Host.
    “Son,” Blake said as softly as he could, “I’m going to ask you to leave the church.”
    Lanny’s eyebrows shot up. The boy looked quizzically at Blake.
    “Excuse me?”
    “You can come back, but only after you’ve ditched that thing around your neck.”
    “What’s wrong with my cross?”
    “It’s not a cross. It’s a satanic symbol, and I won’t have it in here.”
    Confused,