Exposing a Killer

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  He wished she had been able to go to her parents’ place. A final goodbye would be good for both of them. Now they spent more hours together, talking, trying to find humor in their situation, holding hands because they needed an anchor in a world that was spinning out of control. And he didn’t want to let her go.

  So he should. He needed to figure out a way to draw out this killer when Megan wasn’t with him. He could make himself a target. If he got her someplace safe, he could play killer bait.

  By the time he reached his aunt and uncle’s place, Dave was getting home. Aunt Julie made them a hearty breakfast before heading into her office for work. Grace appeared worried or in pain, with dark circles under her eyes and a down-droop to her lips.

  “You’ve got to take care of yourself,” she admonished him.

  “I’m trying, sweetheart.”

  Not hard enough.

  He studied her sweet, pretty face and thought about what would happen to her if anything happened to him. She would miss him, for sure. Yet these past few months had shown all of them how strong she was. She would continue to heal. Dave and Julie would take great care of her.

  And Megan, practically falling asleep in her orange juice, would miss him, too. That was all right. That was best. She would throw herself into her work and make a great success of the investigative agency. And she would be safe. They would all be safe.

  He had to get her to safety first. Unlike Grace, she wouldn’t remain with Dave and Julie if he wasn’t there. Her parents’ house had seemed like the best option. Yet they had said that they weren’t there.

  “Why don’t you all get some sleep,” Aunt Julie suggested, returning to the kitchen. “We’ll all be quiet.”

  “Just a couple hours,” Jack said. “Then we need to do some planning.”

  But sleep was so necessary to reacting well to danger. Fatigue dulled the senses, slowed reaction time.

  “I can’t see straight I’m so tired,” Megan mumbled. She drained her orange juice and began to gather dishes.

  “Leave those,” Aunt Julie said. “I can get them.”

  “I can help.” Grace used chair backs and the countertop to support herself on the way to the sink. Propped against the counter, she began to rinse dishes for the dishwasher.

  She had begun doing this at home in the past few weeks. She needed to feel useful in any way she could, and Jack looked for tasks to keep her occupied, keep her motivated to get well.

  Jack caught Megan gazing at Grace with such a look of tenderness his heart felt like it might melt from a flood of warmth inside him. Grace had been a great kid before her accident. Her injuries seemed to have brought out the best in her, and Megan seemed to recognize and admire his sister’s strength.

  “I should help,” Megan said.

  “You would probably fall asleep on your feet and drop a stack of plates,” Jack told her.

  She gave him a half smile. “I might.”

  “Go to my room,” Grace said. “I got my stuff out of there.”

  Megan smiled her thanks. “At least I have clean clothes with me this time.” Then she was gone down the hallway.

  Assured Aunt Julie could work in the dining room so he could use her office to sleep, Jack made his own way along the hall. He barely remembered unfolding the sofa bed. He didn’t dream. He slept solid for three hours, then woke to the buzzing of his phone.

  It was a text from Megan. When you’re ready, we need to figure out what to do next.

  Finding clean clothes folded over a chair, Jack got ready and emerged into the living room, where Megan stood looking at the lake and sipping from a mug of coffee. By way of greeting, she pointed to a carafe and mug resting on a tray atop the coffee table. Once he held a cup of steaming coffee in hand, he joined her at the window.

  “Get some sleep?” he asked.

  “Yes. Not enough, but it helps.” She gestured outside. “It’s so clear today. That blue is incredible.”

  “I expect I’ll miss it. The Chesapeake Bay isn’t quite the same.”

  “It’s still beautiful, though.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  She nodded. “I’ve seen most places in the US, and a few others.”

  “I’ve hardly been anywhere.” He grinned. “When I was growing up, going to Wrigley Field was like traveling to a foreign country.”

  She grinned back, then sobered. “What do we do now?”

  “You leave town.” Jack had his speech prepared and held up a hand to stop her inevitable protest. “Do your parents have a vacation home somewhere? Or do you know a private resort you can get into? Because I was thinking about what your mother said. She didn’t say she wouldn’t help you. Surely she can provide you with the means to get someplace safe.”

  “With money. It’s always money with them.”

  “But sometimes money comes in handy, like when you don’t want to use a credit card.”

  Her eyes filled. “I want them for once to acknowledge me.”

  “Have you ever told them that, or just walked away and rejected them?”

  “I—” She gulped, then ducked her head. “I rejected them. I never go back there.”

  “Do they invite you?”

  She nodded. “I’m tired of being told what I want to do isn’t good enough for them.”

  “I know. I was supposed to be a cop like my uncle and dad, and I failed at it. I suppose my uncle is accepting of me now because I got into the FBI Academy. But I’m going to pretend he cares about me regardless of what I do.”

  “He does. That’s obvious. But it’s different with my parents. They don’t care about me unless I do what they want me to do.”

  “Are you sure? Have you given them a chance?”

  “They’ll never accept me being a PI. Maybe if I own the agency.” She wrinkled her nose. “That would make me a businesswoman.”

  His heart softened for her. Her desperation to own the agency was to win over her family. He understood. His wish to join the FBI in the nonaction position of accountant just might be to please his family.

  He shifted uncomfortably with the revelation and snapped his focus back to Megan. “Will you ask your parents to help you find a place to hide out for a while?”

  “I will. Maybe.” She kept her gaze on the blue sky and bluer lake striped with the white lines of wave crests. “Probably.” She fumbled at her jeans pocket and pulled out her phone. “A bank transfer would take too long, maybe even a whole day. But they have staff who could meet me somewhere. But what about you?”

  “I’ll do what I can to draw out this killer,” he said aloud.

  “Jack, no, that’s too dangerous.” Her eyes were huge in her pale face.

  “I’ll stay safe. I’m a little harder to kill than a small woman.”

  “You’re still flesh and blood. I mean, they shot you once already.” She moved toward him. “You should come with me.”

  “I’d like to. That would make me happier. But if we’re apart, they’ll have a harder time.” He shrugged. “You know, divide and conquer.”

  “A house divided cannot stand,” she shot back.

  “But we’re not against ourselves. We’re united in our division. That is, our goal is united.” She was close enough for him to brush his fingertips along her cheek. “You’ve been a great person to go through this with, if we had to go through it.”

  “You, too.” Her voice was husky. She turned her head to kiss his fingertips, then scurried away. “I’ll make that phone call and get my stuff.”

  Jack set his unfinished coffee on the tray and sought out his aunt.

  He found her in her office, hooking up her computer to the power cord. “We’re taking off.”

  “You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Her face and voice registered alarm.

  “I should be. Megan is going to ask
her parents for help finding a place to hide out until the killer is caught.” Jack’s throat felt tight.

  Aunt Julie gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, “You care about her, don’t you?”

  Jack inclined his head. “But there’s no point in it. Her life is here, and mine will be in Virginia.”

  “She can’t be a PI in Virginia?”

  “I expect she can get a license there after a while, but she won’t own the agency. She won’t have the clientele she has here. It’ll be starting all over.”

  “And she’s not willing to do that for you?” She frowned. “Or didn’t you ask?”

  “Of course I didn’t ask. I can’t expect her to give up everything to follow me and take on Grace and me being gone for possibly weeks at a time and—” He sighed. “It’s too much to ask of her, especially if she is able to start repairing some of the hurt with her family.”

  “So you don’t think she’d say yes?” Aunt Julie pressed.

  “I’m not going to put her into that dilemma. We just don’t know one another well enough.”

  Yet he felt like he had known her forever.

  “Maybe if we had more time before I leave...” He shifted his shoulders, trying to alleviate a heaviness settling over him. “But that’s a moot point now. Right now, I just want to get that killer caught so Megan has a future and the people I love aren’t at risk.”

  He wouldn’t mention himself being at risk. Aunt Julie would find a way to stop him.

  “I’m ready to go.” Megan knocked on the door. “Thank you for everything, Mrs. Luskie.”

  Aunt Julie rose and hugged Megan. “Happy to do what I can. You take care of yourself.”

  “You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Grace emerged into the hallway.

  Megan faced her. “I don’t think so, but I’m so glad I met you. If you want to be a PI, come look me up.”

  Grace laughed. “I want to be a lawyer.”

  “Maybe my mother should adopt you.” Megan hugged Grace, picked up her duffel and headed toward the door.

  Jack followed. He didn’t say goodbye to Grace. She would sense he was up to something. She knew him too well.

  Though he and Megan walked side by side to the elevator, they didn’t speak until they were across the lobby, where Jack paused just inside the glass doors. “We have what I hope is unobtrusive police escort to the nearest L station, thanks to my uncle. They should make sure we’re not followed this time.”

  “I hope so,” Megan said.

  Then they fell silent all the way to the nearest L station, this one actually underground, they didn’t speak until they were belowground. Post rush hour, the crowds were light, the trains less frequent. They stood in an isolated pocket outside the turnstiles and still took several moments to speak. When they did, they spoke at once.

  “You talked to your parents?” Jack asked.

  “My father. My mother was on a conference call.” She took a deep breath. “I’m meeting one of their staff halfway between here and North Point. They’ll have money and a car for me.”

  “And you won’t say where?”

  “I’d better not.” Her smile was wan. “And I don’t know where I’m going. Probably Wisconsin or—”

  He laid a finger across her lips. “Don’t say where even to me.”

  “Right.” She ran her tongue over her lower lip after he moved his hand away. “You be careful,” Megan said.

  “Take care of yourself,” Jack said.

  They smiled.

  “I’m so glad I met you,” Jack said.

  “Me, too. I mean, I’m glad I met you.” Megan hefted her duffel higher onto her shoulder. “You be careful at the academy. I hear the training is rough. And Grace needs you.”

  “Don’t let being the boss go to your head.” He meant to simply chuck her under the chin like a mere companion, yet once his knuckles made light contact, he let his fingers linger, tilting up her face to his. “Take care,” he whispered, then he kissed her.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, then spun on her heel and shoved through the turnstile.

  Jack followed. He saw her on the platform below and took the steps that led to the opposite platform. For several minutes, they stood across from one another, the tracks and high voltage rails a gulf between them. His heart ached, and he knew he was making a terrible mistake. He needed to stop this, stop her, stop himself. He couldn’t let her go, never see her again.

  “Megan,” he called.

  No way could she hear him. The platform had begun to vibrate with the rumble of the oncoming train. In the closed tunnel, the approaching subway roared like a beast seeking its next meal. A meal of passengers it would gather in, then disgorge further down the track. This one was going to swallow Megan. It swooped into the station, blocking her from view.

  And Jack heard her scream.

  He started to run, knowing he didn’t have enough time to race up one flight and down another. He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he shouted her name again and again.

  He reached the mezzanine above the tracks just as the train on the opposite side pulled away from the station—pulled away without Megan aboard, for her duffel lay abandoned on the platform like a crumpled messenger.

  SIXTEEN

  Jack rested one hand against a round, tiled pillar and scanned the station. The line of passengers was mostly disbursed. Jack feared that the thinning of the crowd had less to do with his villain than the time of day. If Megan had emitted more than that cry of fear, not many would hear her. Fewer were likely to respond. Yet someone might have seen her.

  He glanced around for the customer service agent, for one of the people with nothing much to do but ride around on the trains all day, for a custodian. Below, he saw a customer service agent emerge onto the platform and pick up the duffel. She would probably carry it off to lost and found and no sign Megan had been there would remain.

  He leaned over the railing. “’Scuse me, miss?”

  She glanced up, blue-dyed hair falling away from an unnaturally white face. “Yeah?”

  “I’m looking for someone. A small woman with red hair. That’s her duffel.” He felt a little sick at that. “Have you seen her?”

  The woman shook her head.

  Security cameras. Surely they had security cameras. But a CSA wouldn’t have access to those. No one would give him access to a video feed for security. But it might show something.

  It would take hours to find out. But he doubted he had hours.

  “Is anyone else working the station today?” he asked.

  The CSA pointed to the booth.

  Jack thanked her out of curtesy more than because she’d been helpful, and she took Megan’s duffel to the booth for safekeeping. The agent would send it to the lost and found center, and Jack’s hands would be unencumbered.

  He slipped through the turnstile. A woman sat in the booth eating take-out Chinese food. When he knocked on the window, she shook her head. She wasn’t interrupting her meal to answer his question.

  “Please,” he called through the glass. “It’s an emergency.”

  She pointed behind him. Figuring he meant the other CSA was coming, he persisted. “She hasn’t seen my friend, and I think she’s in danger.”

  For response, the woman stood and drew down a shade to cover the window.

  Teeth gritted, Jack stomped away and approached a woman with a handful of invitations to her church. “Excuse me, ma’am, have you seen a small woman with curly red hair go past here?” He gulped down a lump of anxiety rising in his throat and added the detail he didn’t want to think about. “She might have been with a big man with heavy brows.”

  Even before he finished his queries, the woman was shaking her head. “But please take this pamphlet.” She thrust it into his hand.

  He shoved it into his pocket an
d stalked away, seeking someone else to ask. Surely more people needed to ride a train even that late in the evening. People worked late. People worked odd hours. People went out to dinner.

  He paused at the turnstiles again and was wondering if he should slide his card and go back inside, when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

  “I’ve seen her.” The voice was low, husky and female.

  Jack turned slowly so as not to startle her. He expected another passenger, a tired-looking career woman coming home from working late. Instead, he saw the woman, the one he and Megan had mistaken for Cahill from a distance. Both were tall and willowy. Both had long blond hair. And both had noses with a decided bump like a ski jump just below the bridge. Resemblances ended there. Cahill’s face had been sweet. This woman’s face was hard.

  So was the barrel of the gun she pressed into his abdomen under the cover of an oversize handbag hanging from one shoulder, and a computer case from the other.

  “Be quiet and you can live long enough to see her again.”

  “You won’t shoot me in here. It’s a public place.” His words held more certainty than he felt.

  He thought she might risk it. The tiled and vaulted ceiling would mask the true location of the shots. By the time anyone figured out the direction, the woman would be gone, and Jack would be as good as dead.

  And he knew that, more than anything, he wanted to live long enough to see Megan again.

  He never should have said goodbye to her. But he had, and there he was being guided away by threat of death, onto an elevator that emptied into the middle of a sidewalk. It too was deserted. Even the side street she led him down bore no cars other than those parked against the curb. Those were all dark, quiet and empty save for one tucked in the middle of the pack. It idled with the headlights off. Enough light from the streetlights showed the shadows of two people, one at the wheel and another one in the back seat. Light shone off the smaller person’s hair, a mere two or three square inches of exposure, but Jack knew it was Megan.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. His heart beat too fast, too hard. He forced air into his lungs, drew a long, slow breath through his nose to calm himself. Now was not the time to act. He needed to spend time with these people, watch them in action to guess how they operated together and separately.