Alex Kava Bundle

by Alex Kava

  Pakula backtracked, taking his time, trying to slow down and examine what evidence was left behind to determine what had happened. Who was he fooling? He knew what had happened here. Andrew had had some unexpected guests last night. Guests who’d helped themselves to his things. Pakula couldn’t see Andrew’s laptop anywhere, although the TV sat in the middle of the room still plugged in.

  He checked the screened-in porch—muddy shoe prints all the way up the back steps. “Andrew, buddy, you didn’t lock the fucking back door, did you? And where the hell are you?” He didn’t expect an answer.

  Maybe he got away, ran into the woods. At this point, Pakula was relieved he hadn’t yet found his body, shot execution style like those poor souls in the bank. He stared out at the lake and woods on the other side. Andrew would have the advantage, even stumbling around out there at night. He knew this park.

  Pakula headed back into the cabin, whipping out his cell phone to call in a new APB. At least Andrew’s car would be easy to find, torch red with vanity plates. Who said these guys weren’t stupid. “No service,” his phone’s digital display read, and he remembered his cell phone going dead yesterday in the middle of his conversation with Grace. He shook his head. Poor Andrew. He wasn’t even able to call for help.

  No, he had to stop thinking that way. Pakula told himself Andrew was fine. It was actually a good sign that he wasn’t lying inside unconscious or dead. He had to have gotten away. Maybe they’d be sipping beers and laughing about this by nightfall.

  That’s when Pakula saw the blood.

  CHAPTER 40

  10:53 a.m.

  Highway 75

  Andrew kept checking his rearview mirror. All the times this red car had tripped the speed traps and set off the radar, why couldn’t it now? He pushed it over the speed limit, trying to keep it steady with the flow of traffic so Jared wouldn’t notice. Where was the state patrol? Why weren’t there Black Hawks looking for these three?

  They’d killed four people, maybe five, in a bank robbery and yet, they didn’t take any money. Unless they’d stashed it somewhere. Maybe they were afraid of marked bills or recorded serial numbers. But wouldn’t they keep enough cash for their getaway? Or did things go so terribly wrong they’d walked away with nothing?

  One obvious fact—Jared was pissed that Andrew’s daily ATM withdrawal was limited to four hundred dollars. Maybe he thought cleaning out Andrew’s bank account would make up for his botched bank robbery. Whatever the reason, Andrew had made sure he pulled up close enough to the ATM drive-through that the small camera peeking from the face of the machine could include a shot of the back seat. Or so he hoped. He’d also thought about jamming his card into the wrong slot, rendering it useless and possibly forcing Jared to allow him to access his account by going into the bank. But Andrew didn’t want to risk Jared walking into another bank.

  It didn’t matter. It was over. Jared had four hundred dollars. They were back on the road, heading south on Highway 75 after leaving Nebraska City. In the rearview mirror Andrew could see Jared listening to the radio—no new information. Charlie stuffed his face, this time with little chocolate doughnuts.

  He glanced at Melanie sitting beside him. Her head leaned against the car window. At first he thought she was sleeping, then realized she was staring out at the landscape. Something about Melanie made Andrew believe that her heart wasn’t in this. All the signs added up, her nervousness, or outbursts regarding what had gone down in the bank, gave Andrew the impression that maybe she might be the weak link in this threesome.

  Now if only he could attract a speeding ticket. Back in Nebraska City he had even made an illegal left turn, hoping someone other than Jared would notice, but the pickup driver he cut off simply stopped and politely waited. Just his luck to be taken hostage and need to depend on people too polite to even imagine anyone in their small picturesque town could be taken hostage.

  “Turn it up,” Jared yelled, startling both Andrew and Melanie. Without hesitation she grabbed at the radio’s volume button.

  “…possibly taken from Platte River State Park. Local authorities now say they are looking for a 2004 red Saab 9-3 with Nebraska plates reading A-W-H-I-M, A WHIM. The two suspects may also have taken with them the car’s owner. We are told that this is an ordinary citizen and is not connected to the two suspects. Presently this person’s name is being withheld until confirmation has been made. Again, local authorities are advising that if you do see this vehicle, a 2004 red Saab 9-3 with vanity plates that read ‘A Whim,’ please call the special hotline, 800-555-9292, or 911. Do not approach or try to stop them as we are warned the two suspects are considered armed and dangerous. Authorities have released the names of the four victims who were killed in that—”

  “Fuck! Fuck! Off! Shut it the fuck off!”

  “What the hell are we gonna do now?” Melanie clicked the radio off, then spun around to face Jared, as if this was the last straw for her.

  “Just shut the fuck up, Mel. Shut up and let me think.”

  “This is crazy, Jared. Charlie and I didn’t sign on for this crap.”

  “I told you I’d handle this, Mel. Now shut the fuck up.”

  She turned back around. Andrew could see her hands wringing the hem of her shirt. He thought he could see her lower lip tremble but it disappeared between her teeth.

  Andrew kept an eye on Jared in the rearview mirror. The cool-and-calm attitude had quickly dissipated. He jerked around in the back seat, clearly agitated. His entire body shifted to look from one window to the next, and he bent down at one point to get a look at the sky as if expecting to see a police helicopter. Charlie followed Jared’s lead, watching out the window and focusing on the sky.

  “How the fuck did they figure this out?”

  Andrew thought he was just blowing off steam, not really expecting an answer to his question. Then he felt the slap on the back of his head, hard enough to make him swerve and unexpected enough to make his stomach lurch.

  “How?” Jared yelled again. “What did you do to tip them off?”

  “Nothing,” Andrew said, and suddenly his heart was pounding in his ears again. Was there any reasoning with a man who didn’t need a reason to do what he was doing? Would he dump the car along with Andrew? “How could I do anything? I’ve been with you the whole time.”

  He needed to calm his own panic and not give in to Jared. He needed to think positive. He could use this turn of events to his advantage. He had to try. What did he have to lose? While Jared twisted around to watch out the back window, Andrew slipped his hand down to the bottom of the steering wheel. From there he could reach over and turn on his headlights. He should have thought of that sooner—anything to get someone, anyone to notice his car. Maybe the pickup driver back in Nebraska City had already called it in. Maybe they were tracking them or at least sending a cruiser to investigate. If he could buy some time—yes, that’s what he needed to do. He needed to think.

  “This could work to your advantage,” Andrew said, trying with effort to keep his breathing steady. If only he could think. If only he could remember all his research and access it now when he needed it. He knew volumes about criminals and sociopaths. Couldn’t he use his knowledge to his advantage? One thing he knew for certain, he had to sound as if he was on Jared’s side.

  “What are you talking about?” Jared was still twisting around in the back seat.

  Andrew could see Melanie turn toward him, looking for the first time interested. Up until now she had barely acknowledged his presence.

  “They’re looking for this car, right?” Andrew continued. “I could be your decoy. Hell, I could drive all the way down to Kansas, maybe cut across Missouri. In the meantime, you could be headed in the opposite direction.”

  Silence.

  Jared stopped fidgeting. Melanie shifted in her seat to look back at Jared. It took effort for Andrew to keep quiet, to not oversell his plan. He resisted the urge to glance in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t look overly a
nxious. Jared had to think about how the plan benefited him. A true sociopath thought only in terms of “me.” Andrew was counting on it.

  Finally Jared sat forward, reached across the front seat and pointed. “See that farm up ahead. Pull off and head up there.”

  CHAPTER 41

  11:00 a.m.

  Melanie dropped her head back against the soft leather headrest and let out a sigh of relief. Finally Jared was listening to reason. For a brief second she wished she could stay in the car and drive off with Andrew Kane, never mind that it meant certain capture and arrest. She just wanted an end to all this madness.

  After following the long driveway, Jared insisted Andrew pull up to the house. The gravel snapped and popped against the bottom of the car despite the Saab slowing to a crawl. Rainwater had filled the tire ruts and the smooth luxury ride turned into a bumpy carnival ride.

  Charlie started whistling the theme song from “Green Acres,” and Jared actually laughed before he told him to “shut the fuck up.”

  Melanie tried to ignore them. She admired the farmhouse, a big two-story home. When she was a little girl growing up in a smelly roach-infested apartment, she had dreamed about living in a house like this with a long porch, though she would never have told Jared. He would have laughed at her and told her to stop dreaming. The porch even had a swing, the kind you saw in the movies with people sitting out on summer nights, sipping lemonade. This was a house that said, “Come in, make yourself at home, stay awhile.”

  “How we gonna do this?” Charlie asked and Melanie could hear him already pulling his backpack from the floor.

  “Everybody keep your mouths shut. I’ll handle it. That goes for you, too, Mr. Ordinary Citizen.”

  Jared used the radio guy’s term as if it were an insult. Or, Melanie wondered, did he want to remind Andrew that he wasn’t a part of Jared’s team? Not that it mattered; she couldn’t help thinking there didn’t seem to be any perks to being on Jared’s team.

  A farmer appeared from the side of the barn. He must have seen them coming up the driveway. He didn’t look at all like Melanie expected. Instead of overalls and a flannel shirt he wore blue jeans and a pale yellow oxford button-down. Instead of a straw hat or feed cap, he had on a red baseball cap.

  “Hey, look, Andrew—” Jared pointed “—he has on the same fucking cap you have on.”

  The farmer waved to them and started toward the car.

  “Everybody fucking smile,” Jared told them.

  Melanie heard a rustling from the back and glanced around just in time to see Jared removing the gun from his waistband. Her stomach lurched. She wanted to scream at the farmer to stop.

  “Jared, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Just smile, Melanie, and relax. Charlie, you take this.” And he slid the gun over to her son who didn’t hesitate in slipping it under his leg. “You stay with Andrew in the car. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Melanie, you and me need to use this guy’s phone.”

  She didn’t have time to figure out Jared’s scheme. She was so relieved he wasn’t going to use the gun that she didn’t care what he asked her to do.

  Jared pressed the button and the window slid down silently. It was too late for him to reprimand Andrew when he brought his window down, too.

  “Morning,” Jared said in a friendly tone that Melanie recognized as fake. “We’re a bit lost. We’re supposed to help a friend move, but we can’t find his place. You mind if we use your phone to call him?”

  “What’s his name? I know just about everybody around here.” The man stopped in between the two car windows, first glancing and nodding his head at Andrew, then turning to Jared.

  “Actually, he just bought a place down here. We’re helping him move in.”

  “That’s odd. I don’t know of any place that was up for sale. Know the name of the person he bought from?”

  Melanie started twisting the hem of her blouse. This guy was screwing it all up. Why didn’t he just let them use the fucking phone?

  “Gosh,” Jared said, “I really don’t know. All I know is we were supposed to be there an hour ago. He’s really gonna be pissed at us. You mind? I promise I’ll make it short. Your wife won’t mind, will she?”

  “No, no. She’s off having her hair done. Her girlfriend picks her up every Thursday, and they spend the morning in town.”

  “That’s real nice that you let her do that.”

  “Let her?” The farmer laughed. “Son, if you think you have any control over what women do you’re in for a mighty big surprise. They have minds of their own. Isn’t that right, ma’am?” He bent down to look in at Melanie, and she smiled back at him, wanting to warn him not to fuck around with Jared.

  “Come on in,” he finally said, standing up straight and waving a hand for them to follow.

  Jared didn’t hesitate, opening the door and climbing out, but he turned to nod at Charlie and shoot Melanie a look of warning. She knew that look. It said, “Keep your mouth shut.”

  Inside the kitchen Melanie took in everything, from the cute little plaques of hand-painted vegetables to the cheery yellow and white-checkered curtains. She found herself wanting to sit down at the table with a cup of coffee. She wanted to stay awhile.

  The farmer pointed out the phone on the counter to Jared. At some point, both Melanie and the farmer had missed seeing Jared grab a butcher knife from the wooden block on the counter. Suddenly he had the man by the collar, the knife to his throat, forcing him into a chair.

  “Get something to tie him up, Mel.”

  She couldn’t move. Her knees threatened to give out. She stared at them, recognizing the surprise as well as the panic in the farmer’s wide brown eyes. That day so many years ago came back as if it was happening all over again. Jared holding her father from behind, his small arms wrapped around his thick neck, holding on despite the fact that his feet were dangling off the ground and her father’s arms were twisting and flailing, trying to grab onto Jared. “Get something to tie him up,” he had yelled at her. Only she couldn’t move then, either. She couldn’t believe they were actually going to do it. They had gone over their plan, again and again, plotting every night after one of the beatings. Sometimes Jared’s eyes would be so swollen Melanie would have to do the writing, despite her nose still bleeding, dripping down onto the small notebook where they hid their list of things they’d need. The list had never included the gun and yet somehow it had shown up that night.

  “Melanie,” Jared yelled again. “Get that extension cord.”

  Finally she spun around, looking behind her. She almost expected to find her father standing there, bloodied and dirty as if he had crawled his way out of the grave Jared had dug for him. But there were only yellow and white-checked curtains and a daisy suncatcher dangling from the curtain rod.

  “Don’t make any funny moves, Mr. Farmer,” Jared told him. “We just need your car keys. We need to borrow your car.”

  “Sure. No problem.” The man started to point, but stopped when Jared shoved the knife up under his chin. “Keys are hanging by the door. The ones with the Saint Christopher’s medallion.”

  “Melanie.” Her brother’s voice took on that soothing tone. “Mel, get the keys and bring me that extension cord.”

  It felt like a dream. A bad dream. Melanie stared at the trickle of blood that stained the farmer’s yellow collar. Her stomach started to churn. She tried to keep her mind focused. She tried to stay here, in this sunny kitchen instead of slipping back to that small, dingy kitchen from her past. So much blood—she could see it seeping into the cracks of the linoleum, cockroaches skittering through it.

  “Melanie, the keys.”

  She did what she was told, walking with spongy knees. They’d tie him up. They’d take the keys. She could do this step by step. She could get through this. She had done it before, she could do again. She’d focus and concentrate on what needed to be taken care of. And then she’d leave this warm, cozy kitchen and step back into her nightma
re.

  CHAPTER 42

  11:12 a.m.

  Andrew watched Charlie in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t help thinking the kid looked like a puppy dog waiting and watching for his master’s return. The gun stayed on the seat next to his thigh, exactly where Jared had left it. Charlie’s hand, palm flat against the leather seat, was beside it as if he didn’t want to touch the gun but wanted to be ready if he needed to.

  Andrew tried to size him up, almost like a character profile for one of his books. He was streetwise but otherwise not so smart. There was an innocence, a sort of childlike quality about him that didn’t jive with being street-smart. At first Andrew had thought it might be a ploy, a manipulation, part of an act the kid did to get what he wanted. He was a good-looking kid in a geeky sort of way, with an easy, carefree manner, as if he didn’t think any of this was wrong. Almost as if he thought it was a game. Or maybe it was all an act.

  Charlie met Andrew’s gaze in the mirror, but Andrew didn’t flinch. Charlie looked away first.

  “You and Jared been friends for a long time?” Andrew asked as if making polite conversation.

  “Friends?” Charlie looked as if the question required thought. “Jared’s my uncle.”

  So that was the tie. Andrew had wondered if there was a romantic connection between Jared and Melanie, but this made more sense. Now he knew.

  He checked the door to the house and then the garage. Nothing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered a tidbit about kidnappers having a difficult time hurting their hostages if they started to think of them as real people. Hopefully that’s what was going on inside, but the longer it took Jared to get the keys from the farmer, the more Andrew got nervous about him agreeing to let Andrew just drive off and be his decoy. Whatever Jared ended up doing inside that house could determine Andrew’s fate.