“I’m not sure either,” Tyler said, “But I am almost certain Lemond is not the man you should be after for this. He’s a witness at best.”
“Then why did he run?”
“Look at what he was faced with. Do you think any judge in the country would give a guy like him a fair shake in court? He’d be down for life in no time.” Sarah agreed with this; it would be very easy to put a petty criminal away for this based on the evidence they had already.
“Do you know something about the case you haven’t told me yet?” Sarah asked. Tyler seemed too sure of Lemond’s innocence. Had one of his contacts been in touch with the fugitive?
“No, but I have some feelers out,” he replied, as though he expected her distrust. “I bet I know something before you do,” he added, his voice teasing.
“Tell me what you know about Danny Kercheck,” she said, changing the subject rapidly. Tyler nodded and took a sip of his beer,
“I wondered how I got off the phone last night without having to tell you about that,” he said.
“No more stalling,” she said
“Okay,” he laughed, “He’s being held on counter-terrorism charges somewhere upstate. The only person allowed to see him is his lawyer.”
“Anti-terrorism?” That didn’t make sense. How were they getting that to hold up?
“Can you feel this?” Tyler said leaning forward his elbows on the table. He’d interrupted a slight pause she was only noticing had been there. She looked at him, for an instant thinking he was talking about some chemistry between them, something physical, but understanding before she gave her thoughts away what he was really alluding to.
“Yes,” she said almost as a sigh; surrendering to him.
“When we work together, things get done,” he said.
“Things happen,” she corrected him, “and not always for the best.” Her career could have been in ruins after their last collaboration, but then...
“I can help you solve these cases,” Tyler went on, “We can get them out of the way and get focused on the real case.” She knew he was getting a lot out of their collaboration too, but still Sarah’s mind was filled with the desire to get Spalding. Tyler may be using her to get what he wanted professionally, but she couldn’t hold that against him knowing she was using him for personal revenge. Swings and roundabouts. “Do you still have that phone I gave you?” he asked.
“Yes, but it’s in my apartment dead somewhere.”
“Charge it when you get home tonight, I’ll text you in the morning.”
“Text me what?” she asked, alert to some possible news.
“A test,” he said, “Unless something happens overnight you need to know about.” He was good, Sarah thought, she had to admit that. She shook her head; she wasn’t going to let him win this easily.
“No,” she said, “It’s too much of a risk.” She didn’t know if he could hear the fact that she’d already caved in her voice or if he was just that confident, but all Tyler did in response to this was smile and say,
“Well then I guess we’ll be racing one another for the break in the story. May the best win.” He tipped his bottle to her and drank.
Chapter 9
CARSON LEMOND HAD READ the story in the newspapers about the manhunt and never in his life had he been so afraid or so desperate. They had him pegged for three murders now and as far as the stories went there was no doubt of his guilt and he would face the electric chair if caught. It had been made clear in his own mind that fleeing was the only option left to him. He was in a motel just outside Washington D.C under the name of James Deever. The owner of the place hadn’t asked for any information from him or even so much as glanced up from the book he was reading long enough to see Carson’s face. He just wanted the cash up front and some kind of mark made on the registry.
As Carson lay on the hard bed thinking on how he might escape all of this a new idea came to mind. At first, he dismissed it as crazy, but when it wouldn’t go away, he thought deeper on it. After a time he actually began to think it was a way out and this window of hope made him see that at the very least it was worth a shot.
It was raining when he got off the bus by the mall. He’d been in the food court earlier today and knew there was a store that sold sim only phones. He paid a teenager to go into the store and buy a phone for him so that if the phone was traced to where it was bought he at least wouldn’t be on the CCTV camera’s buying it. The teenager did what was asked of him and was rewarded with twenty dollars as promised.
Carson went back outside into the grim weather. Few people were walking the streets and it was unlikely anyone would overhear his conversation out here. He called a number from his address book, a battered black leather covered pad he’d had with him for years. He wasn’t sure of the number as he’d gotten it second hand but it was worth a try.
The ring tone went on for a long time, much longer than one normally would before cutting to a voicemail or answering machine. Carson stayed on the line; he had nowhere else to be. Then the click came and someone was on the other end.
They didn’t say anything.
“I’m looking to make a deal,” Carson said, thinking about all the information that might have flowed through this number in the past.
“Wrong number,” a gruff voice answered and Carson panicked as he felt they were about to hang up.
“This is Carson Lemond!” he blurted. There was silence from the other end but they were still there.
“Speak,” the man said after a long pause.
“I didn’t kill Jeff,” Carson said, “Or the other two. I beat Jeff to get money he owed to your people!”
“Where is that money?” the man asked; this wasn’t what Carson had expected.
“I have it,” he answered and not wanting to get side-tracked he went on. “I’m happy to get it back to you and I’m happy to work for you guys for nothing if only you'll keep me hidden from the cops?” This had been the idea that had come to him in the motel.
The Castino Family wanted his blood now, but they were pragmatic people. They could make him work off the debt of the troubles he’d caused them for ever and that would be much more valuable to them than just killing him. They’d also get to collect on Jeff Suchet’s debt at the same time; it was a no brainer from their point of view. They would want to protect their latest asset and that would keep him safe from the police and the electric chair that awaited him if ever picked up. Everyone wins.
“Wait,” the voice said and Carson heard the phone being placed down on something.
The silence went on for many minutes and Carson wondered how long this phone would last. He was using a powerbank to keep it working as he hadn’t been able to charge it up yet and he had no idea how much time it would give him. In truth, he didn’t think this call was going to have lasted so long.
The eternity ended with the scraping of the receiver and the man said,
“There is an agreement. You will have to work out of State of course but we will arrange all of that. Are you still in Baltimore?”
“No,” Carson said, “but I’m not too far away.”
“Can you get to Ellicott City tonight?” the man asked. Carson thought for a moment, some of his apprehension and fear leaving him as a way out began to shine through the clouds of his doubts.
“I think so,” he answered, “Where?”
“There is a diner called Fitzpatrick’s, just off Interstate Seventy.”
“I’ll find it,” Carson said, “What time?”
“Whenever you get there,” the man answered. “Go in and ask at the counter for Jimmy.”
“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you thank them for me? They won’t regret this.”
“You better make sure they don’t,” the man said menacingly and then hung up.
As soon as the call was over, Carson’s euphoria sank as the real world swept him once again. What the hell had he been thinking? He disconnected his power bank, rubbed down the phone with his shirt and
then tossed it in a garbage can by the bus stop.
There was no way he was going to meet the mob at an off road diner on the outskirts of Ellicott City. What else would they do but kill him? It was ridiculous to think anything else. At least he hadn’t told them where he was, but it was possible they could trace the phone somehow. Dejected and feeling as stupid as ever in his life, Carson headed back for the motel.
Chapter 10
SARAH MADE SURE TO be at her desk good and early the following morning. She had an idea Malick would try to sneak in early so no one could make a fuss about his return until he was a little settled and she was right. Though she came in at 6am, Sarah was only at her desk five minutes when Malick came into the room.
“You here from last night?” he asked with a quizzical expression.
“Do you think I’d look this good if I’d been here all night?” she asked grinning and looking herself up and down.
“You think you look good?” he said turning his nose up and they both started laughing. Sarah walked over and they hugged,
“It’s good to have you back,” she said.
“Good to be back,” he replied. “Though leaving Tara this morning wasn’t much fun,” he added.
“She was never going to take it well, Malick,” Sarah said as they stepped away from one another.
“No, I suppose not. It’s the right decision though,” he said, “I know that much.”
“Did she threaten to leave you if you came back?”
“Not in so many words but there’s no missing the undertone.” Sarah recalled talking to Malick’s wife Tara in the hospital when they still didn’t know if Malick was going to survive his injuries or not. Tara had been so sure and so adamant that he would not be coming back to the FBI, and at the time Sarah could understand every word and impulse of Tara’s.
Malick was looking down at his desk, his hands rubbing the back of his chair as he stood over it.
“Bobrick wants me to baby you,” Sarah said.
“I’m good to go,” Malick said, looking at her as though he felt there was a question of his fitness to return in what she’d said.
“I figured you would be,” she said, “That’s why I’m glad you came in early. We can get on the road to Baltimore before Bobrick or Daniels come in to stop us.”
“The manhunt?” he asked with a look of surprise on his face.
“Unless you want to be sitting at your desk all day having people welcome you back!” She grinned at him.
“Let’s go!” he said, clearly delighted to avoid such a fate as Sarah had described.
In the car, Malick looked over the case file and Sarah filled him on the search. She was worried about getting in trouble for taking Malick out on the road right away, but this was pushed to the back of her mind when Malick raised concerns about whether Lemond could have been the killer in this case.
“I don’t think so either,” Sarah agreed, “But he knows something we don’t and for that reason alone we need to find him.”
“So there’s still no leads on who the real killer might be?” he asked.
“Not until we talk to Lemond.”
“You seem sure he knows something.” Sarah nodded at this,
“I think he was there either when the murder occurred or right after it. He has to know something.”
Malick was quiet for a time as he also looked over the farmer murders files. Sarah glanced over at him from time to time, looking at the points on his body where the bullets that almost killed him had gone in. Suddenly she wondered if she was doing the right thing taking him out of the office like this.
“You’ll let me know if things are getting on top of you, won’t you?” she asked. Malick looked at her and sighed; she could feel his anger and his trying to control it.
“I wouldn’t have come back if I didn’t think I was ready,” he said, “I appreciate the concern but I’m fine, okay?”
“Okay,” Sarah replied, keeping her own annoyance under wraps.
The day was not the joyful one Sarah had expected of Malick’s return. He didn’t like her telling him to stay at the Command Centre in Baltimore, and then she had to listen to first Daniels and then Bobrick chew her out for taking Malick out into the field on his first day back. Then the Chief of Police in Baltimore got in a huff about the manpower the FBI were using, and it seemed like nothing was going her way. She was half glad when evidence emerged that Carson Lemond had left Baltimore the very night of the last murder. He’d driven a stolen car that had been found on Kent Island.
“Forensics are on their way,” Sarah said to Malick when she got off the phone. He looked tired.
“Could have gone on to either Philadelphia or New York from there,” he mused aloud.
“Or he might have gone back on himself some and went to Washington,” Sarah said looking at a map of the area. “Either way, we’re done for the night,” she added looking at her watch. “Sorry to have kept you out so late on your first day back.” Sarah had heard Malick’s phone buzzing in his pants pocket frequently today, no doubt Tara checking that he was okay.
In the car, Malick called Tara to set her mind at ease. Sarah heard him say he was driving his own car alone so she was sure not to say anything to expose the lie. He told her he had to go back to the office and then he would be on his way home. Sarah couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation but there was a tone of pleading coming through that slowly turned to a quieter one of acceptance. She wondered if his marriage was going to be able to survive this.
“Can we pull in somewhere and grab a coffee?” Malick said when he hung up the phone. Clearly he didn’t want her to ask him anything; his mood seemed to sour by hour but she put that down to tiredness. It couldn’t be easy coming back from what he had.
Sarah pulled in to a convenience store lot and stopped the car.
“You want to both go in?” she asked and he nodded.
The parking lot had only two other cars in it and the dark had just really settled in. Someone far off was blaring music, perhaps a party going on. As Sarah slammed her car door shut, a gunshot rang out simultaneously making it seem like she had the strength of a thousand men.
Both the FBI agents dropped to the side of the car on opposite sides. Sarah drew her gun.
“It came from inside the store,” Sarah called to Malick. He didn’t answer and this scared her. Had he been hit? “Malick, you okay?” she called out. Some kind of mumbled response came back but it didn’t assuage her fears at all. “I’m coming around,” she said.
Keeping her eyes on the store, Sarah backed to the rear of the car and then using her hip as a guide moved to the other side. There was a robbery in progress inside the store, Sarah could see the terrified shopkeeper emptying the cash register contents into a bag while the criminal held a gun on him. The shot must have been a warning one; at least that was what she hoped.
Sarah glanced down at Malick; he was pressed up against the car and he hadn’t taken his gun out. His face was white and his hair was matted to the sweat on his forehead. She had never seen him like this before and it was a shock to her.
But Sarah didn’t have time to deal with it right now.
The door to the store swooshed open and the thief came running out. Sarah dropped to one knee, using the hood of the car for cover and balance she shouted out,
“FBI, drop your weapon, now!”
The thief froze and Sarah could see the fear in his eyes. He didn’t drop the gun though and it was wavering in his hand by his side. At any moment he could lift it in a flash and take a shot at her. “Put it down!” she shouted hoping his brain was trying to get him to do the same thing.
Sarah could feel Malick shifting around but she didn’t know if he was getting up or what and she couldn’t look down to check. The thief was looking back at her and his lips were beginning to tremble. This could go either way; he was either scared or desperate and both could lead him to make the snap decision to try shoot his way out of this. Sarah soften
ed her voice,
“This doesn’t have to end badly,” she said. For a moment a look of resignation came over him and Sarah saw the glint of light from his eyes and thought tears were forming. Still it was precarious. Malick’s backup would make all the difference right now.
“I need this!” the thief shouted back and there was no doubting the tears now. He was a desperate man and though she didn’t know what he needed the money for, something told her it was not drugs.
“Put down the gun,” she said again, calmly but authoritatively. He looked down at the bag of money and then to the gun in the other hand. His eyes rose to meet Sarah’s then and never in her life had she felt so sorry for a person.
The man dropped the money bag and then bent over to put the gun down on the sidewalk.
“That’s very good, Sir,” Sarah called out, “Now walk five steps towards me with your hands where I can see them.” He stepped forward like a man who was doomed and nothing mattered anymore.
“Malick, suspect is disarmed, call for local PD to come and arrest,” Sarah said. For a moment there was nothing, but then a low voice said,
“Got it,” as the car door opened once more.
The man didn’t speak while they waited the few minutes for a squad car to arrive and take the man into custody. Sarah hadn’t spoken to him either, afraid of what terrible thing he would tell her, like his child was dying and he needed the money for an operation- which is what she thought was the case based solely on the look in his eyes when he knew the game was up.
The car was silent too on the way back to Quantico. Malick had said gruffly as Sarah got in that he didn’t want to talk about it. Sarah let it be, feeling she was unlikely to get anything from him tonight, but this wasn’t going to be the end of it. Not by a long shot.
Chapter 11
TYLER PINCHED THE BRIDGE of his nose and scrunched closed his eyes and then leaned back in his chair stretching his arms out in a wide arc to loosen up his upper body and back. He’d been looking over all the articles he could find online about the first of the ‘Agrarian’ murders and comparing them looking for something that stood out.
A Clattering of Jackdaws (The Birdwatcher Series Book 2) Page 4