by L. T. Ryan
We turned hard to the right and pulled around the tree barrier. We saw a cruiser and an SUV, both with stenciled gold stars on their doors and the name of their police department. I didn't bother to stop and look. Two men stood outside a worn and weathered wooden building. Blue and red lights bounced off the structure, highlighting planks of wood that were anything but uniform. They were lined up randomly. Quarter inch gaps had been formed by years of humidity and hot and cold and rain and snow. The elements had caused the wood to expand, contract, bow, and bend. The result was a structure worthy of condemnation if there has been a building inspector within thirty miles of the place.
One of the officers raised his hand. He was short and wide with a formidable gut protruding out and hanging over his belt. The other cop was tall and lean with a leathery face that, much like the barn, had spent too much time out in the elements. He clutched a rifle close to his chest.
"You deal with the cops," I said. "I'm getting inside that barn."
Frank opened his door, stepped out, walked around the front of the Suburban. He held his hands in the air. He clutched his SIS ID in his left hand. I heard him shout something to the men. The guy with the gun dropped his hand. The tall guy lowered his weapon and aimed it at the ground.
"Ready?" I said.
"Yeah," Sarah said.
I opened my door first then took two steps back and then opened her door. She stepped out. I shielded her with my body in case there were more surprises. Turned out, there were.
A third cop emerged from the barn, coughing and gagging. He made it ten or fifteen feet and stopped, which placed him about ten or fifteen feet away from me. If I'd been any closer, I could have identified his lunch, because he proceeded to bend over and vomit. Then he stood and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, only to throw up again.
Things weren't looking good for Christopher Nockowitz.
"What's in there?" I said to the guy.
He stood there, hands on his knees, bent at the waist, breathing heavily. His head rose up and he opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't get a word out. He couldn't. It appeared to me that he'd had a large breakfast. After he finished, he lifted his head again, and said, "Sorry. It's… Oh, God." He bent over once more.
I didn't stand around long enough to find out what happened. I grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her to the right, taking a wide berth around the unfortunate cop. We stopped at the door. I looked at the tall guy and said, "Why are you guys here?"
"Someone heard a gunshot," he said.
I knew it.
"Then," he continued, "Someone phoned in a bomb threat."
"Bomb threat?" I didn't see that coming.
"Yeah."
"Why would anyone care about a bomb threat out here?"
The man straightened up and shuffled his rifle in his hands. The barrel bounced up and down and settled in a few feet from my mid-section. Apparently, they take their bomb threats very seriously in the country.
"You looking for trouble, son?"
I felt Sarah grip my elbow. "No, sir," I said. "One more question, though."
He narrowed his eyes, looked down, then back up. "What?"
"Who's that guy?" I nodded toward the man still heaving in the snow.
"Bomb squad."
"You been inside the barn?"
"No."
"Why not? The bomb?"
He shrugged and gestured with his head toward the dark opening to the structure. "You smell that?"
"What?"
"Death."
I nodded, turned, and stepped inside the barn. The air felt warmer, but only by a few degrees. No wind, though, which made a difference when the temperature was below freezing.
The barn had the smell of death, as the officer noted. It also had the faded odor of gunpowder.
"We need a flashlight," Sarah said.
I scanned the room, my eyes coming to rest on a bale of hay stacked six feet high. "No, we don't."
"Why not?"
"The boy's not here."
"How do you know?"
"Guess I don't for sure, but we could always ask that guy." I stretched my arm and pointed toward the hay. Perched atop was a head, and only a head. And the head belonged to the man we planted the tracking device in. "Although, I guess we could use a flashlight to see if the rest of his body is in here."
Sarah groaned and backed up. I heard her bang against the barn door as she stepped through the opening. She asked for a flashlight and returned less than a minute later, casting an artificial beam of light into the darkest corners of the barn. The rest of the man's body wasn't far from his head. As far as I could tell, only his head had been severed.
I walked over to the makeshift altar and inspected it from all sides. They had sliced the back of the guy's head open and removed the tracking device. They'd placed it a few inches to the left, on top of the hay, in plain sight.
I walked toward the open doorway, taking Sarah's hand along the way. We stepped outside where Frank was waiting for us.
"Well?" he said.
"The boy isn't there," I said.
Frank sighed and let his head drop a few inches. "That's a relief. You find the tracking device."
I nodded.
"Where is it?"
"You can go in and see for yourself." I flipped the flashlight around in my palm, extending the handle toward him. He snatched it and brushed past me.
A moment passed, then two. I saw the cops standing by their cruiser. They quickly averted their eyes when they saw me look in their direction.
"Sweet mother of Jesus," Frank said. "What the hell?"
I waited for him to return from the barn and then I gave him my thoughts. "I'm guessing they figured if we put a tracking device in the back of his head, we might have put one somewhere else."
"Why kill him? Why not leave him on the side of the road?"
I shrugged. "He couldn't be trusted anymore, not if he let us insert a tracking device in his head. Maybe the guy knew too much, like where they were going and why they were going there."
"I suppose," Frank said.
"It's what I would have done, if I were so inclined to be involved in such an illegal endeavor."
"Half of what we do would be classified as illegal."
"Better watch your back then." I smiled. Frank didn't. Bad joke, I supposed.
"Why so brutally?" Sarah asked.
"Fear," I said. "It's a message."
"For us?" she said.
"Partly. And for his own guys."
My phone rang loudly. I had taken it off vibrate on the way out here. I looked at the display. It was him. I glanced at the clock in the corner of the display. Almost nine a.m. I flipped the phone open and answered, "Twenty-seven hours."
"Your math skills are exceptional, Mr. Noble." Normal voice, calm tone.
"What happened to the robot voice?"
"I deemed that unnecessary. Besides, you don't know me."
Then why did you make a point of saying that?
"You're probably right," I said.
"I know I'm right," he said.
"So what now?"
"What now," he repeated. "Well, first let me tell you that if you pull another stunt like that, it will be the boy's head you find next time."
"You keep threatening me with the boy's life," I said. "Sooner or later I'm going to tell you I don't give a shit. Your game is getting old."
"Twenty-seven hours," he said, almost humming it.
"What the hell happens in twenty-seven hours?" I yelled into the phone, loud enough that it got the attention of the three cops. They perked up, leaned forward, then tried to act like they weren't listening. I took a few steps toward the far end of the barn.
"You'll find out soon enough."
The line went to dead air. I moved to throw my phone against the old wooden planks of the barn. Stopped mid pitch and yelled.
"Jesus, Jack," Frank said. "Get a hold of yourself, man. We gotta stay in control here."
I s
hoved the phone back in my pocket and started toward the Suburban. The tall cop met me at the door. We stood there, eye to eye, not a word spoken between us. For a second I had a feeling he was about to arrest me. Why? I had no idea. A sad smile formed on his lips and took a step back.
"I became a cop after my boy was abducted and killed," he said.
I looked over my shoulder at Frank, who nodded. He'd told them what was going on, which demonstrated a lot of faith on his part. Alternatively, maybe he had no choice if he wanted to keep this under wraps. I feared it wouldn't stay that way for long.
"Sorry for your loss," I said.
He nodded. Smile faded. "If you get these guys," he paused a beat, "when you get these guys, make sure they suffer."
"Will do." I opened the rear passenger door and waited for Sarah to climb in, then I pulled the front door open and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind me. As soon as Frank was in his seat and had the door closed, I said, "What the hell did you tell them?"
"Enough to get us out of there, Jack." He turned the key and fired up the big V-8 engine again. "And they're going to walk away from here. Say they found nothing. And our guys are going to show up in a little bit and scrub this site clean, after gathering all the evidence, of course."
"Of course," I said.
He backed the SUV up, whipped it around and drove back the way we came. We hit pavement and headed north.
"Where are we going?" I said.
"Newark."
"Why Newark?" Sarah asked.
"We have a field office there," Frank replied.
"OK," she said. "But again, why Newark?"
"Outside of New York, close to Philly, close to airports. A big enough city, but far enough away from the big ones, allowing us to operate out of sight when we need to."
She shrugged. "OK, I guess. Still don't know why anyone would want to base themselves out of Newark."
Frank laughed and turned his head toward me. "I like her," he said.
Me too, I thought.
CHAPTER 19
Halfway to Newark our plans changed. Harris called and said that Tammy Nockowitz was up and coherent and seemed to be holding something back when he questioned her, but he couldn't quite figure out what.
Frank got on the phone and arranged for a private jet to be ready for us at Princeton Airport. We doubled back the way we came, which was no big deal except that we were working under obvious time constraints.
We boarded and were in the air by ten a.m. Twenty-six hours to go. I left my cell switched on and waited for a call from the man to confirm it. He didn't.
I sat next to Sarah. Frank sat across from us, facing us. "What's on your mind?" he said.
"I don't get why he wants the boy. Why Christopher? Of all the kids, why him?"
"We've been over this, Jack."
We had, but that didn't erase the question from my mind.
"He saw you," Frank said. "The two of you, emerging from the house. The pictures of you and the fire. Whether he saw it on the news or saw a picture of you, that's why. He got the boy, and he's got you." Frank paused a moment. "I mean, he's got us."
"At some point it's only going to be me," I said.
"Not if I can help it."
I shrugged. He could talk all he wanted. Facts were facts. The guy called me. He spoke to me. He wanted me. In the end, this would boil down to the two of us. And anyone else he had on his side.
"Back to the guy," Frank said. "He's embarrassed and he's pissed. He knew how to reach you, which means he knows you."
"How?" I said. "He doesn't disguise his voice anymore. I can't place it, though. It sounds familiar, but not really."
"Don't know, Jack. But if I had to lay money down, I'd say this guy knows more about you than we want him to."
Done talking, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. The plane would land in thirty or forty minutes and that stretch of time might be my only shot at sleep for the next twenty-six hours.
I woke up after the plane had landed. First time I ever recalled sleeping through a landing. Sarah stood in the aisle, looking down at me, a smile across her face. For a moment, the situation facing us slipped my mind and I couldn't help but think about how beautiful she looked.
"What?" I said.
"You snore," she said.
"No," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"Prove it."
"How?"
"Bring a tape recorder to my house one night this week and sleep over."
She smiled, turned and walked to the open door at the front of the plane.
"Time to get serious, Jack," Frank said.
That was all it took. Everything that had happened in the past eleven hours rushed to the front of my brain, the weight of it nearly throwing me off balance. I glanced at my watch. Close to eleven a.m. I didn't let my mind do the calculations. Instead, I hopped in front of Frank and moved to the front of the jet, then down the small staircase that led to the ground. A black sedan waited for us. The driver's window rolled down and McKenzie nodded. I opened the door for Sarah and walked around the back of the car to get in on the other side. Frank sat up front.
"The office?" McKenzie asked.
"Hospital," Frank replied. "We need to go see Tammy Nockowitz."
We reached the hospital shortly after eleven a.m. I hesitated at the front door, waiting for my phone to ring. It didn't. But that didn't mean we weren't in for any surprises.
CHAPTER 20
When we reached the room, it became obvious that Tammy wasn't in as good a shape as Harris had said. She faded in and out. Obvious head trauma, Sarah had informed us. Tammy smiled a little when she saw us surrounding her bed, and she fixed her eyes on me. I sat down on the edge, near her waist, facing her, like the night before.
"Tammy," I said. "We need for you to tell us everything that happened last night. What do you remember?"
She licked her lips and swallowed hard. Her words formed slowly. Her voice sounded raspy. "It's all bits and pieces. I remember being at the dinner, and then here. I also remember the accident."
"Let's start there, Tammy. What do you remember about the accident?"
"A man." She paused and blinked hard. "Several men."
"Paramedics?"
"No."
"Cops?"
"No."
"Firefighters?"
"No," she said forcefully. "I didn't see any flashing lights, like you'd see if the cops or medics were there. Only flashlights and men."
"What did they say?"
"I… I don't recall."
"How did they talk?"
"What do you mean?"
"Accents? Did any of them have a British accent?"
Frank flinched back and shot me a look. I shrugged in return. I figured that if she was forced to remember something we didn't think was a possibility, it might jog her brain enough to recall actual facts.
"No, I'd remember that," she said.
"Do you remember anything at all about them that might have been different?"
"They were Hispanic, or looked that way, at least."
"All of them?" I asked.
"All but one. One was white. American. I… I think I recognized him from somewhere."
"From where?"
Her eyes closed and her head fell back into the pillow and tilted to the side an inch. Out cold. We waited by her side. None of us spoke. We all stared at Tammy, waiting for her to come to. Finally, she did, and she picked right back up where she had left off.
"The party," she said.
"What about it?" I said.
"I saw the man there."
"Can you identify him?"
She looked around and then lifted a bruised arm and pointed at Frank. "Him."
Frank took a step back and shook his head. "What?"
"What about him?" I said.
"I remember him from the party," Tammy said.
"And then at the accident?"
"What accident?" Her face contorted.
She shook her head, just once in each direction. Then she passed out, again.
I looked at Sarah and held out my hands in a what-the-hell gesture.
"She's got a nasty concussion," she said. "Head trauma. Never know how someone will react."
"This is getting nowhere," Frank said. "I was with you all night, Jack."
"I know, Frank. That's not a concern. We'll have to see what she says when she wakes up. Remember, first thing she said to me last night was, 'they got him.'"
We waited for Tammy to rejoin us. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes passed in bunches. I looked at the clock on the wall and it was close to eleven-thirty a.m. Close to a day left, according to the man on the phone. I half-imagined that he'd turn out to be a prophet. The countdown he gave me would turn out to be a doomsday timer, and when the world didn't end, as per usual, he'd restart the timer. Maybe tell me I had two years, three months, and four days left.
"I'm going to grab some coffee," Frank said. "Anyone else want a cup?"
Sarah nodded and so did I.
"OK," Frank said. "Three coffees."
He slipped out of the room.
Sarah turned to me. "I thought our first date would be much more romantic than this."
I smiled at her, then glanced down at the broken woman who lay unconscious on the bed. The smile faded from my lips and I thought of another line of questioning that might be relevant.
Sensing my mood was too somber to discuss the start of our relationship, Sarah switched gears. "How did you manage to keep the cops out of this?"
I shrugged, unsure of how much I should tell her. "As you've seen by now, we have our own way of doing things."
"Yeah. And…?"
I eyed her for a moment, and then said, "Nobody messes with us. We've got the contacts to make things happen. Our boss's boss is a powerful man. The kind of man people avoid stepping on the toes of. If we want things to work a certain way, he goes to bat for us, and things work the way we want."
She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "You're talking in circles."
"Possibly."
She huffed and I smiled.
A nurse stuck her head in the room and told us that she needed us to step out for a few. Sarah nodded, and since she was the resident expert in all things emergency medicine, I followed her out of the room. We headed toward the lobby, following signs that directed us to the cafeteria. Saw Frank a hundred yards down the hall and met him halfway.