Read The Devil's Dream: Book One for Free Online

Stalked a cop all day if need be, and then when he saw
an opening, stole the car and perhaps killed the police officer. Just
for the messaging: that none of them were safe. That if he wanted to
get someone, he would, and there was nothing anyone could do about
it.
    Acting like that had
been selfish. Childish even. Killing cops for their cars did hold
reason, but that reason was secondary to Matthew's goals. Just
killing cops was about his pride, his anger, his revenge. It left him
no closer to speaking with Hilman, no closer to reclaiming his lost
family.
    All that was done. It
created risks he didn't need, even if they were small, and it did
little to bring his Hilman back.
    Matthew left the hotel
room carrying his key and walked outside into the parking lot. The
sun still hadn't quite risen above the horizon, but its glow could be
seen and birds chirped from the power lines. Soon the world would
wake and the hunt for him would begin again, if it had even stopped
for the night. Matthew went to one of the cars in the lot, an old
Impala with the paint coming off the roof. The good thing about being
in Florida was the car theft: rampant. A car missing in a motel like
this wouldn't be put on anyone's radar outside of the local police
department.
    Matthew tried the
handle, but luck wasn't on his side.
    "Alright then,"
he said, turning around and heading back into his hotel room.
    Within a few minutes,
he had the television completely apart and lying on the bed. He
sifted through the parts inside, looking for the pieces he needed.
Finding them, he walked back outside, leaving the key and the
disassembled television lying on the bed. His pocket jingled a bit as
he walked, the metal instruments bouncing off each other. The sun had
risen a bit more, but no one stirred in the hotel. The one light in
the parking lot flickered on and off, not casting a wide enough glow
to brighten much outside of a narrow radius. It didn't take Matthew
long to get in once he was at the car. He jiggled his new tools
around in the right places first on the door and then in the
ignition. The car started, sounding like a rusty can with nails
shaking around inside.
    That was fine; He
wouldn't need it for long. Just to get him a few miles down the road
to the beach.
    * * *
    On the fifth call—not
ring, but call—someone finally answered. Allison wouldn't have
stopped calling even if it meant she walked around with the phone on
her ear all day and night. She was going to get in touch with this
guy.
    Jeffrey Dillan.
    She read his book the
night before, downloaded it and then stayed up all night consuming
it. She was actually impressed at the depth and the truth he wrote
with. He hadn't shied away from anything, finding fault in everyone,
finding love in them too. She searched for more books by him, but
couldn't find anything besides newspaper articles he'd written before
he published The Devil's Dream .
    Now the prick wasn't
answering his phone. He knew what was going on and Allison knew this
was his correct number. She could have probably given the phone call
to someone she managed, but having Dillan feel snubbed in their first
interaction probably should be avoided.
    "Jesus Christ,
what?" The voice came over the phone.
    "Mr. Dillan?"
    "Yeah, you got
him, now can you tell me why you needed to call a million fucking
times?"
    "This is Allison
Moore with the F.B.I. I'd like to speak with you if you have the
time."
    "I don't," he
said and the line went dead.
    Allison pulled the
phone away from her face and looked at it, almost not believing what
just happened. Okay, she
thought and dialed again.
    "Goddamnit. Woman.
I don't have the time to speak to you," Dillan said after the
first ring.
    "That may be true,
Mr. Dillan, but if you need me to make the time for you, I can get
you under protective custody within an hour and you'll be right next
to me. Given that you're nearly a national treasure because of your
book and the fact that you might be number one on