He read on.
Go there. You’ll find the others, and they’ll know what to do. Don’t let anything stop you from getting the footage to them. It’s extremely important that it reaches the right people.
That would be a challenge since he was on the run with a four million dollar bounty on his head. But she probably wouldn’t have expected him to be the prime suspect in her murder.
I wanted to protect you from all of this. Believe me when I say that everything I did, I had to do, even if it cost me my own life. If you find my friends, they’ll explain the rest to you.
I love you, Nikolai. I feel fortunate to have spent part of my life with you. Every moment I was near you, it made the world melt away. You were everything to me, and although I may be gone, at least I felt what it was like to be truly happy. Remember me, my love.
Forever yours,
Jade
That last paragraph tore into his heart. He clutched the letter tightly in his trembling hand. No, he couldn’t lose it now, not when he was getting close. Mourning would have to wait. Jean had been right when she’d suggested that Jade was trying to protect him. And he’d been right about Jade being murdered for a reason; that reason was recorded on the card he possessed.
Once he collected himself, he replaced the broken figurine back in the Crown Royal sack and re-hid it inside the hole, replacing the wooden slat over it.
He left the park with the hope that whatever Jade had started, he would be able to finish it.
In Garden Hills High School, the kids had long since gone for the day, but Stewart Tarcher remained to buff the floors. It was his first night on the job and the trophies were already polished, the windows spotless, and the trash cans emptied. He’d even done some repair work around the building. Now, he buffed the floors until they shined. He didn’t mind the work; he just wanted to be there.
As he pushed the buffer in a circular motion, he heard footsteps. Shutting off the machine, he listened. He rotated his head one way, then the other, seeing only rows of classroom doors and lockers. His eyes snagged on a man standing in front of him.
“No!” he shouted, grabbing the intruder by the coat and throwing him off to the side.
The sound of crashing metal lockers carried throughout the halls. He prepared to charge when the intruder cried out, “Nine, wait! It’s me, Seven!”
Stewart halted and stared at the man on the floor, his expression grew wide with shock. “What are you doing here?”
Ebenezer stood and pressed his hand behind his neck to pop it. “I think you know why. We need to talk.”
Stewart led him through the basement to a room near the boiler. The eight-by-eight room had only a cot and a lamp on the dirty concrete floor. Both Replicas had to hunch over to keep from hitting the low ceiling. A blue jay chirped from a cage hanging from a water pipe.
“Are you living down here?” Ebenezer asked.
“Kind of. It’s where the custodian lives because he can’t afford rent.”
“Why are you working in this place?”
“Shortly after I got into the city, I saved an old man from being robbed in an alley. He was so grateful he brought me here to hide out for a while.”
“To hide out? Does he know about you?”
“I told him, yes.”
“That wasn’t smart,” Ebenezer scolded.
“Relax. He’s a vet. He fought in the same war we did. We’ve even shared war stories.”
Ebenezer gazed at the caged bird on its perch, staring back at him with tiny black eyes.
“He wants me to stay and help around the school,” Stewart said. “He’ll get me a job, probably in construction, and we can get a place.”
“Where is this old man now?”
“Cleaning bathrooms somewhere. How did you find me?”
Ebenezer returned his focus on him. “It’s not important. But it’s time for us to go back.”
“Yeah,” Stewart sighed. “I knew the time would come, but I hoped it wouldn’t. I like it here.”
“Perhaps you can return once it’s over, Nine.”
“Don’t call me that,” he said, taking a seat on the cot. “I go by the name Stewart Tarcher now. I took the last name from the old man. I picked Stewart from a baby name book he owns.”
“I have a name as well. It’s Ebenezer.”
Stewart snorted. “Ebenezer? Where did you get that name from?”
Eb frowned. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“According to the book, Ebenezer is a bad name. It means miserly and cranky.”
Ebenezer’s frown deepened.
“Are the Betas looking for us?”
“Yes.”
Stewart glared up at him with little emotion. “How many of us have they found?”
“I don’t know. A pair found me, but I managed to kill one and get away.”
Concerned, Stewart stood. “And what if they’ve found too many of us?”
“We should locate the remaining Alphas and get on with the plan.”
“Are you insane? What if we have to fight the Betas?”
“They may be stronger than us, but they possess none of the skills we do. We have actual combat experience, which is something they don’t have. We also have the ability to think like the species that has lived for millions of years through wars, famine, and disease. We think like humans.”
Chapter 15
Knox sat alone on the couch in his studio apartment, replaying the incident at the factory over and over. He held a glass of Bushmills whisky, which he’d not yet taken a sip from. He couldn’t make head or tail of what had happened. He kept wondering why Mason had lied about trapping Crowe in the warehouse. As he asked himself the question, he suffered a swell of guilt for having killed him.
His cell phone rang on the cushion beside him. He considered ignoring it, but after seeing the name, he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hi, Kay.”
“Hey, Lucas. I heard what happened. Are you okay?”
“I’ve been suspended.”
“I’m sorry. I have information about Douglas Crawford, if you’re still interested.”
He asked himself if he was. Osborn had taken him off the case. He could do nothing with anything she gave him. Even so, his curiosity urged him on. “Shoot.”
“You were right; the name was familiar. I went to the mayor’s office and looked into the staff personnel flies.”
“How did you get into the mayor’s office?”
“I have complete access to City Hall. I go there all the time with Claudia.”
His lips raised a little, pleased that he’d asked the right person.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Douglas was a set designer for Hiroshi during his run for office. He’d done some promotional stuff for him. He attended your award ceremony at City Hall.”
He remembered. After the ceremony, there had been a small party in his honor. He’d been introduced to the mayor’s staff, including a woman named Keiko Yu. He’d shaken her hand shortly before introductions with Douglas Crawford.
“Yeah, I remember. Where is he now?”
“According to his file, he’s been on sick leave since September. Caught a bad case of malaria and checked into Montgomery Hospital.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Lucas? Are you there?” Kay asked.
“Yeah,” he said, setting the glass of whisky on the coffee table. “Sorry, Kay, someone’s at the door. Listen, thanks for going to the trouble of looking this guy up for me.”
“No problem. If it helps you find the man who killed Jade, it’s worth it. Good luck.”
He pressed END and stood. “Who’s there?”
“Are you naked and thinking of me?” Rivera replied.
He opened the door to find his partner at his doorstep. “Always.”
Rivera entered the living room and picked up the glass from the table. “Don’t tell me you’re drunk, too.”
“No. I haven’t had a drop.”
“Oh? In that case …” Rivera knocked the drink back.
“Help yourself,” he said as he dropped onto the worn couch cushions.
Rivera headed into the nearby kitchen where a whisky bottle sat on the countertop. “I heard what happened at the factory. I’m sorry.”
Knox rubbed a finger across an annoying spot of pain on his forehead. “Thanks.”
Rivera poured himself another drink and returned. “I just came from Nelson’s. I told him about his daughter. He’s gonna hook up his call trace in case she calls. If he can locate her, it might lead us to the others who blew up the bank.”
“That would be good news.”
Rivera sat on the other side of the couch. “I also told Osborn everything.”
“And … ?”
Rivera maintained a serious expression before he finally said, “You were dead-on about everything being linked. When I told Osborn about the empty wall safe in Lloyd’s office, it was like I’d told him I’d slept with his wife. He was pissed and extremely nervous about something. Whatever went down tonight, I think he’s somehow involved.”
Pieces of the puzzle began to merge. He’d thought it was odd that after sending Rivera to give Osborn a full report, he’d gotten a call from the chief, claiming that Crowe was trapped in the same factory he’d been to before. A location he would easily remember. He thought back on the brief conversation between him and Shaw, and how unusually relieved the detective had seemed when he’d said he no longer cared about the case. At the time, he’d thought Shaw wanted the case to bolster his own name. Now he suspected that Osborn had set the whole factory thing up to get him out of the way.
It wasn’t just a set up; it had been an assassination plot.
He pulled the file from his coat and flipped through to the coroner’s report about the single stab wound to Jade Sho’s back. He abruptly got to his feet. “Stand up.”
Rivera gave him a curious look, but did what he wanted. Knox grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around, until his back faced him.
“What are you doing?” Rivera asked over his shoulder.
He focused on the area of Rivera’s back where Jade Sho had been stabbed. “She fought him.”
“Who?”
“The victim. Sho fought with her attacker and scratched him on the face. So, why did he stab her here?” He made a fist and tapped Rivera between the shoulder blades. “Right here. If she fought back, how did he manage to stab her there, instead of in the chest? It seems inconvenient.”
“Maybe she was running away and he tackled her to the floor,” Rivera offered, lifting the glass to take another drink.
“I thought of that. But if he already held the knife, then why not try stabbing her while she attacked him? He wouldn’t reach around just to stab her in the back. And there were no other wounds on her body.”
Rivera turned to face him. “Jesus, Knox, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“I think someone else was in the room with them.”
* * * * *
It would take Nikolai hours to reach the strip club on foot. Also walking the streets with a four million dollar price on his head was just asking for trouble. Shortcuts through dark alleys would prove to be just as unwise. The car had been towed, though he’d already decided not to drive it again since it would most likely be reported stolen soon. Without Ebenezer to guide him underground, he had to risk the train. He went to the nearest station and hoped for the best.
It was getting late, and there weren’t many passengers. He entered a car with only an elderly man onboard. He kept his hood up and head down, taking no chances of being recognized. If anyone in a monitoring room spotted his face on one of the cameras, the police would undoubtedly be waiting for him at the next station.
He kept his back turned to the old man but stayed on his feet, holding the rail and watching the small flat screen. The news rolled footage of Lucas Knox rushing to his car, trying to get away from reporters. The subtitles at the bottom of the screen explained that the cops had received false information about him being at an old factory and Knox had accidentally shot an officer inside.
“How the hell did that happen?”
Another story replaced that one, and it drove fear straight into his heart. An anchorwoman came on and spoke silently.
He read what she said in the scrolling caption.
“Enraged that his daughter’s killer is still at large, Mayor Sho has recently issued a lockdown on the city. Roadblocks have been set up on the streets and police are searching the trains, subways, and bus stations.”
News footage of police at assembled roadblocks, searching vehicles with dogs showed on the screen. The picture switched to footage of a subway station where cops checked young white males going through the gates.
“All airports have been on tight security since the suspect’s escape. The mayor has been forced to take drastic measures to find Nikolai Crowe.”
He’d been fortunate enough to drive to the park before roadblocks had been assembled and lucky to have gotten on the train before police had reached the station. But the cops were moving fast, and once he stepped off the train, he’d run smack into them.
“How the hell am I going to get out of here?”
“You sound familiar.”
He turned to the elderly man standing only a foot away. He swiveled around before the old man could see his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I heard you,” the man said, taking another step toward him. “I think we’ve met before.”
Nikolai bit his bottom lip. “We’ve never met. Leave me alone.”
“I can see your face in the reflection of the window.”
He shifted his eyes to the window. He had a clear view of the old man as well.
“You’re him, aren’t you? The kid who killed the mayor’s daughter.”
Nikolai quickly walked away, heading for the door that led to the next car. His heartbeat pounded inside his head like a boxer’s fist.
“I found him!” the man shouted, shuffling behind him. “I found him!”
Nikolai whipped around and grabbed the old man by the shoulders. He made a tight fist, but hesitated in striking him down when the man froze with fear. That close, the old man looked familiar, then Nikolai recognized him as the blind man who’d loaned him his cell phone at the hospital. He no longer wore dark glasses to hide his eyes. The Lucentis injections must have restored his vision.
I can’t become the monster they think I am.
He pushed the old man into the seat behind him. “Don’t follow me,” he warned and left through the car door.
Eight people occupied the next car, but no one so much as glanced at him as he passed by. He headed for the next car, hoping for less people. A female officer came through the opposite door.
He halted and turned away. He clung to a pole and gritted his teeth. Pain jabbed him in the small of his back. He tried to control his trembling hand as he reached into his pocket for the bottle of Ibuprofen. Eyeing the officer as she spoke to a passenger, he threw a couple of pills into his mouth and returned the bottle to his pocket. His mouth was so dry, the tablets nearly caught in his throat. He faced the wall where a Health is Golden Foundation poster hung, the same one he’d seen at Mount Sinai Hospital. His anxiousness grew at the sight of the mayor’s smiling face.
The automated voice of the conductor announced the next stop. To his right was the officer, while to his left was the old man who knew who he was. Choosing which direction to go made his teeth hurt.
Come on and stop already!
“That’s him,” the old man shouted from the door. He pointed at him with his cane. “Officer, that’s Crowe! Right there!”
The officer whipped her head up and looked at Nikolai. All eyes suddenly fell on him. Nikolai started toward the car he’d previously come from.
“Stop right there,” shouted the officer, drawing her gun. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
He
stopped, nearly losing his balance when the train slowed.
“Put your hands up where I can see them and turn around. Now!”
He raised his hands and slowly turned to face her. As he did, the passengers muttered to one another.
“It’s him,” one said. “It’s really Crowe.”
When he turned, the officer appeared surprised herself. “Put your hands behind your head and get down on your knees.”
“I found him,” the elderly man declared. “I found him. The reward is mine.”
No one paid him any mind, they only watched as Crowe lowered himself to his knees, his hands locked behind his head. He knew that once the officer handcuffed him and called for reinforcements, he’d lose everything he’d gained.
I’m sorry, Jade.
He’d been so close to learning the truth, and now the chance was lost, like his freedom, his life—even the woman he loved. All gone. Forever.
His knees ached on the dirty floor but he stayed immobile. With the gawking audience, the gun aimed at his chest, and the man yelling behind him, he could do nothing but wait.
Screams poured into the train. The officer switched her attention to the opening doors only to be shoved violently aside by a man rushing in.
“Move!” he shouted, trying to reach the door opposite to the one he’d entered. Blood covered him and dripped from his sports coat. Before he reached the other door, a burst of gunfire went off, striking him several times in the back. His baseball cap flew off, revealing a shiny brown scalp beneath it.
The passengers and officer scrambled to escape the car. The old man tried to leave as well, but fell and was trampled by panicked passengers. As Nikolai jerked to his feet, someone shoved him into a seat. He covered his head as bullets continued to fly. The bald man collapsed face down on the ground between the door and platform outside.
The Warning Page 17