by Ben Follows
"I guess his heart just gave out," said Raymond. "There's nothing you could have done."
"No, this isn't--" The nurse paused and become still. She turned to Raymond and met his eyes.
"This is a tragedy," said Raymond firmly. "You did a great job taking care of him. I'd love to keep you in my employ, perhaps even with a raise."
The nurse swallowed. "A raise would be nice."
"Great," said Raymond. "I need to go and tell everyone my father has passed away. I'm sure you can deal with all this." He gestured to the body.
"Of course, sir."
"Thank you for your hard work." Raymond grinned, then walked out of the room, without looking back.
Chapter 49
Curtis paced back and forth in the observation room as his six-month-old daughter was operated on in the adjacent room. He paced back and forth, while Melanie stood completely still, staring in at the small body that was being operated on.
"Damn it," said Curtis, trying and failing to remain calm.
He just wanted to help. He knew he was being helpful to Melanie, but she had gone comatose. She just stared into the room. He could walk over and put an arm on her, but she didn't react. It was like nothing existed except Sophie.
Curtis checked his phone and read the text from Frankie about the Eaton Estate. It also described the new messages Johnson had received from the military saying that Eaton Enterprises had requested not to be interrupted anymore due to confidential reasons.
As Curtis paced, he thought of Jason, of his pleading that Curtis save his daughter no matter the cost.
He thought of standing in the parking lot of the rest stop, seeing Jason's head explode as the bullet from Lauren's gun hit him. He remembered turning in time to see the bullets riddle Lauren's body and the gun slip from her fingers.
Then his mind jumped back, and he was standing in the middle of a jail. The Blind River jail. A jail filled with death.
Bobby Randall.
Chief Tucker.
Ken Hagerty.
Joe Hagerty.
Matt Oberman.
Then he was standing in a hospital room, his father's body lying on the bed, motionless in a way he had never thought possible.
He was standing at the edge of a pond as FBI teams pulled four bodies out of the pond in the Blind River forest.
He was standing in the middle of a prison, as Sam Marino slid a knife into the back of Harry Ochre.
He was in a parking lot as Robert Randall shot Nate Williams, blowing his brains over the car's engine.
He was standing in a crowd of people cheering as Marino beat Josh Mackley to a bloody pulp.
He was standing in the Manhattan hotel room as Henry Mavis hanged himself.
He was in the theater room as Jason Wilson shot Ralph in the head.
He was watching Jason's daughter die for his failure, never knowing that her father had tried to save her.
"Curtis."
Curtis focused on the woman standing in front of him.
"Are you okay?" said the woman. "I couldn't get your attention."
"Yeah," said Curtis. "I'm fine."
He finally focused. Amber was standing in front of him.
"Oh, hey Amber," he said. "When did you get here?"
Melanie turned for just a second at the mention of the name, then turned back to the window.
"I wanted to come check on you guys," said Amber. "I hope that doesn't make anything awkward."
"No," said Curtis. "Thank you."
"Anything I can get you?"
"Water would be great."
Amber nodded, then looked past him into the surgery room. "I know how it can feel," she said. "I know the feelings you're going through. It will be all be alright."
"Thanks," said Curtis.
He looked back at Melanie.
Maybe it was because of everything that had happened in Blind River. Maybe it was because his father had died. Maybe it was because his daughter was in surgery. Maybe it was because he felt helpless.
All he knew was that the hospital walls were closing in on him, and he desperately needed to be anywhere else.
Chapter 50
Frankie walked into Director Johnson's office without knocking. Mason and another agent were sitting across from him, but when Director Johnson saw her, he gestured for the others to give them a few minutes.
The younger agents stood and nodded to Frankie as they walked past her.
Frankie closed the door and took a seat across from Johnson.
"What the hell is happening?" she said. "We can't go back to the house or continue our investigation?"
"You can," said Johnson," but you need to be very careful how you go about it."
"What do you mean?"
Johnson took a deep breath. "The head of the Department of Justice just called me. She didn't seem happy. She said we were overstepping our bounds and that Eaton Enterprises is outside our purview."
"How so?" said Frankie. "We're dealing with a crime on American soil that has crossed state lines multiple times. What part of that isn't under our purview?"
"The part where Eaton Enterprises is too powerful."
Frankie frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The Department of Justice has been investigating them for a few years. They've got their claws in too many government divisions. If they go down, a lot of powerful people are going down as well."
"What does that mean for us?" said Frankie. "What are we supposed to do?"
Johnson let out a deep breath. "I think we need to step back. Let the D.O.J. and the military deal with this."
"What about the girl?" said Frankie.
"Wilson's daughter?" said Johnson, he tapped his fingers on the table. "Have you found any evidence she is being held by Eaton?"
"Curtis said that--"
"What are your thoughts on Curtis?" said Johnson. "Didn't you just recently say that you were worried about his mental state?"
"Yes, but you said he had been cleared for duty by a therapist."
"He was."
"Curtis wouldn't lie about that," said Frankie, her blood pressure rising. "He wouldn't lie about Jason being terrified for the life of his daughter."
"Let me ask you again," said Johnson calmly. "Do you have any concrete evidence that the girl was ever in the hands of Eaton Enterprises?"
"Why would Jason Wilson do everything he did if not for that?"
"Circumstantial," said Johnson. "I'm passing the case of the missing girl over to the local police department. You are not to continue investigating this. Take a few days off, Frankie. It will be good for you."
Frankie stood. "I want it noted I'm not happy about this."
"I know."
Chapter 51
Lauren Mavis had more information than Debra could ever have imagined.
She and Brent were shocked by the sheer amount of information she had stored on the servers. It had taken him four hours to get past her security, but once he was in there seemed to be a never-ending torrent of information about Eaton Enterprises and the money moving between accounts and bases.
"Jesus Christ," muttered Brent. "There are over a hundred million dollars here, in shell corporations and banks all over the world. I have to ask, ma'am, and I know you might not be able to tell me, but what the hell was Lauren involved in?"
"More than I thought she was," said Debra. "Can you get all these files onto a hard drive for me?"
"Sure," said Brent. "I'm just can't believe she's really dead. You know? I don't think it's hit me yet."
"Yeah," said Debra. "It can be tough. What else did she have on the Eaton Family?"
"Tons," said Brent. "Why?"
"I'm looking for anything owned by them that might be kept secret, or anything about the Eaton Estate that might help me understand the layout better. Blueprints from old renovations or anything like that?"
"Let me check," said Brent. "Yeah, we've got something here."
"Great, put that onto the drive as well.
"
"I had a one terabyte drive sitting around somewhere. I can probably get everything on there."
"That would be great." Debra leaned over his shoulder and looked at the blueprint he pulled up.
She had already figured out most of the details of the case. She knew that Jason's daughter was missing. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Jason's daughter was being held on that property somewhere.
She was the last living person involved in the robberies. She wasn't an idiot. She knew Eaton would be coming after her. And she wasn't going to wait around for him to make his move.
She was bringing the fight to him, and she was going to save Jason's daughter.
Brent handed her the terabyte hard drive, and she thanked him, then left the office.
She went to a nearby payphone and called her voicemail.
"Hello," said a greasy voice in one of her new voicemails. "This is Raymond Eaton. You know why I'm calling. Come to the estate, and we can get this all sorted out. I look forward to making your acquaintance."
The call ended.
Debra laughed and hung up the phone. She wasn't going to the estate, at least not in the way Raymond wanted.
Only an idiot would trust that madman.
Chapter 52
Natasha Nolowinski's cab pulled up to the Eaton Estate. She grabbed her bag, climbed out of the cab, paid the driver, and looked up at the immense estate as the cab pulled away.
A light breeze pushed a strand of hair into her face. She brushed it away and walked up to the front door.
A woman answered the door and introduced herself as Meredith Baker, assistant to Raymond Eaton.
Natasha had received a call from Meredith earlier that day. It said that Raymond Eaton, head of one of the biggest mercenary contingents on earth, had read her article in the New York Times and had additional information he wanted to tell her about.
Natasha had tried to google him but had come up with little information. However, when she arrived at the estate, all her doubts about Raymond's claims had evaporated.
Meredith led her into a museum with portraits lining the walls and sculptures in the center of the room. It looked like most of the pieces cost millions of dollars. It was a more impressive collection than most museums had.
Raymond was standing in the middle of the museum, his hands behind his back, looking up at a large antique globe hanging from the ceiling.
"Sir," said Meredith, walking up with Natasha. "Natasha Nolowinski is here to see you."
"Excellent," said Raymond. "Come stand with me, Natasha. Meredith, give us some space."
Natasha walked up beside him. He was younger than she'd expected, and he looked as though he'd been crying.
"Sorry," said Raymond, smiling when he saw her expression. "My dad passed away. It's been tough for me."
"I'm sorry," said Natasha. "I can come back if another time works better."
"No," said Raymond. "I need to remain strong. The house and the company are mine now. I have a lot of people depending on me."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks," said Raymond. "I called you here because I want to ask for your help. I understand you've had dealings with Curtis Mackley and Frankie Lassiter."
"Yes," said Natasha. "I have a book coming out which talks all about them, and I wrote an article related to them in the Times."
"Yes," said Raymond. "I know. Those two have been coming around here. Let's say they've been making it difficult."
"Really?" said Natasha. "I assumed this was about something else. Although I suppose that makes sense. Is this related to the Henry Mavis case at all?"
"In a way," said Raymond. "I want material I can use against them. Can you provide that?"
Natasha laughed. "I have so much information about them I could write an article every day for months. There's a lot more bad things from Blind River and Curtis Mackley's family than I was able to fit into a single article."
"Do you have it with you?"
"I always keep it with me," said Natasha. She gestured to her bag. "I have notes and hard drives ready to go at a moment’s notice."
"I'd like to see those," said Raymond. "All of them."
Natasha laughed. "I need to know what I'm getting."
"What do you want?"
"Money. Information. Access. The same things any reporter wants."
Raymond laughed. He turned and nodded to Meredith.
Natasha turned. Meredith locked the door and stood in front of it.
"What's going on?" said Natasha, a small sweat breaking out on her brow.
"You know," said Raymond, smirking and turning to her. "Some people like stabbing you in the back. They think it makes them smart. I think it makes them weak."
"What are you saying?" Natasha took a few steps back.
Raymond reached under his jacket and took out a gun. He pointed it at Natasha.
"The bag, Natasha," he said. "Give it to me."
"Look," said Natasha, taking a few more steps back. "I can make a deal."
Raymond smiled and laughed. "I know, Natasha. That's my problem. You're a wildcard. I've looked you up. I know you're manipulative and don't follow any morals but progressing your career. I read the entire accusation that Mackley and Lassiter put against you, about how you were in cahoots with Robert Randall from the start. Frankly, that story makes a lot more sense than the one you've been peddling. So that's my issue, Natasha. I need your information, but I don't trust you."
"Please," said Natasha. "Please just make me a deal. Anything."
"Give me the bag."
Natasha tossed the bag through the air. Raymond snatched it out of the air with his free hand and looked inside. He smiled.
"This isn't Blind River anymore, Natasha," said Raymond. "Welcome to the big leagues."
"No, please!" said Natasha. "I'll do anything."
Raymond pulled the trigger.
For a moment, Natasha thought the shot had missed, then her stomach started feeling cold and wet. She looked down at her stomach. Her shirt was turning red. She looked behind her and saw a bullet hole in the center of a painting of the Eiffel Tower.
"You know," said Raymond, walking toward her. "That was my father's favorite painting. But he's gone now, and I don't need to worry about what he liked. Fuck this painting."
He walked past Natasha. She reached out to him, feeling her eyesight narrow.
She turned. Raymond took the painting off the wall and looked at it for a moment. Then put it on the ground. He raised his leg and stomped down on it, again and again, laughing, until the painting was in pieces.
The entire time, Meredith stood with her back against the door, watching Natasha.
Natasha slumped onto the ground and felt the last of her life leaving her.
Chapter 53
Curtis paced back and forth, his pace accelerating. A nurse had told them that everything was going well. The lumbar puncture was finished, Sophie was recovering, and they would have the results from the tests soon.
Melanie hadn't moved from her spot at the glass. Curtis had brought her some food, but she just glanced at it then looked back into the room.
Curtis didn't want to be here. He realized that more every moment.
He had gotten a call from Frankie about an hour before, telling him that the Gillian Wilson case had been passed onto the local police and Frankie was heading home.
Curtis had thanked her and hung up.
He felt empty since that call. The others hadn't seen Jason's eyes when he had looked at Curtis, that maddening look of a father who believed his daughter was going to die.
He needed to help him, but he couldn't leave Melanie.
His phone rang. He checked it, and it wasn't a number in his contacts.
"Who is this?" he answered. "This isn't a good time."
"This is Debra Coleman," said the voice. "I know where Gillian Wilson is. I need backup. Come alone."
"What?" said Curtis. "I don't unders
tand. You're at your house."
Debra laughed. "You think I couldn't get around your monitors? You idiots even have the unmarked black vans with magnetic decals on the sides. Are you even trying?"
"What do you want?"
"I told you. I'm going to send you an address to meet me at."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because I think you'll come," said Debra. "Jason told you about his daughter. You have your own daughter. By the time the FBI gets through the bureaucratic bullshit, it will be too late."
"Send me the address," said Curtis, sighing.
"Good."
He turned to Melanie and walked up to her. He looked into the room where his daughter was recovering. There was nothing he could do.
Gillian Wilson, however, he could save.
"Melanie," he said softly. "Something came up."
"What?" she looked at him. "What are you talking about?"
"There's a girl," said Curtis. "She's in trouble. They need me."
"Don't they have anyone else?" Melanie's eyes pleaded with him. Curtis looked into the operating room at Sophie. He was so sick of feeling useless.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I’m the only one who could save her."
"Then go."
Curtis looked at her for a long moment, then nodded and smiled. He kissed her on the forehead then turned.
"Curtis?"
Curtis looked back at her.
"If you leave," said Melanie, speaking slowly, turning toward him, "don't come back."
Curtis froze. "What?"
"I'm tired of this, Curtis," she said. "I'm tired of always being unsure whether Sophie and I are priorities for you. I'm tired of being second fiddle to the FBI, always just one phone call away from having you ripped away from me. I'm sick of it. If you walk out that door, don't come back."
"There's a girl I need to save," said Curtis. "You don't understand--"
"No," said Melanie. "I'm done listening to you. If you cared about this family, you would quit and know that there is always someone else who could save these people. You don't care about the people being saved, you care about you being the one who saves them."