Don't Look for Me

by Mason Cross

  Nobody but me and Dominic Freel.

  Gage had spoken the truth. He had killed somebody today.

  I recognized the face of the dead man from the picture Sarah had emailed me three days before. Whatever Dominic Freel had done in Vegas had finally caught up with him, and caught up with Carol too. I cursed myself for letting her go an hour before.

  I surveyed the rest of the room. There were no breakages, no overturned furniture. No evidence of a struggle at all. The intruder had either surprised Freel, or he hadn’t had a chance to fight back. I found an unloaded Smith & Wesson revolver in the trash, and wondered if it had belonged to Freel. There was a laptop on the desk, the screen lit up and a notification window on the screen. It showed a progress bar lit up in green and the words “download complete.” There was a USB device plugged into the side. I had seen gadgets like it before: Gage must have used it to break the password on the laptop and download the contents. But it looked as though he had forgotten to retrieve the device in all the excitement. Carol’s purse was lying by the body. I picked it up and looked through but found nothing but fifty dollars in cash and a set of house keys.

  I thought about the evidence in front of me and tried to piece things together. The empty revolver, the laptop, Carol happening on the scene. A sequence of events suggested itself. The intruder had come in here looking for Freel, or information that Freel had. Freel was armed, and Gage had had to kill him. That meant he had been forced to improvise by kidnapping Carol. Who had only been there because she had wanted to talk to Freel following our conversation.

  “Blake?”

  Sarah’s voice drifted up from downstairs. I went back out on the landing and called down to her.

  “I thought you were going to stay in the car.”

  “I didn’t hear any shots, so I figured it would be okay.”

  “Freel’s up here, he’s dead. You might not want to come up.”

  Sarah didn’t respond right away. I heard her footsteps on the hall carpet and then she rounded the corner and started to come up the stairs. “I’ve seen dead bodies before.”

  I stepped out of her way. When she came out of the bedroom again, she had a sad look on her face.

  “Are you okay?”

  She seemed to consider the question. “I didn’t know him well. I didn’t know him at all, really.” She turned to me. “Do you think it was him?”

  We both knew who she was talking about.

  “I think so.”

  “And he has Carol, now.”

  I nodded. Finding her gone was only the second-worst outcome, but still ...

  “Why do you think he took her?”

  “Only one reason it could be. He didn’t get what he wanted from Freel.”

  I thought back to the phone call. It had been hard to hear exactly what Gage was saying, presumably because the phone was concealed on Carol’s person, or underneath something, but I thought he had said something about wanting to talk. He had been sent after Freel, but I had a hunch that killing him had not been part of the plan. I crossed to the window and looked out at the nondescript suburban street. I thought about what had brought them here, what they were running from, and I knew where we had to go next.

  36

  Gage relaxed a little when he had put a few streets between the house and himself. He slowed down, knowing that this would not be a good time to be stopped by a traffic cop. Traffic cops like to check the trunk when they’re doing a routine stop.

  He followed the signs leading to the highway and picked up speed again when he hit the open road. After ten miles, he saw a sign indicating an exit onto a minor road ahead. He took it. The ground dropped away into a shallow valley, and when he was fully out of sight of the main road, Gage pulled the car to a stop on the dirt shoulder. He got out, walked up the dirt verge on the side of the road and took a look around. The highway stretched off to the north, and was free of traffic. The roughly surfaced road he was on wound its way to the distant hills on the horizon, the heat shimmer distorting the view. The sky was a hazy blue, the air silent and still. It was hot, hotter than Vegas had been. The only other man-made thing he could see was a line of telegraph poles crossing the road a mile away.

  He picked his way back down and walked around to the trunk. He took his gun out before putting the key in the lock and turning it. The trunk lid popped up and Freel’s wife looked up at him, holding a forearm over her eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun.

  “Sorry about the bumps,” Gage said. “Can’t have been comfortable.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Come on out.”

  She made no move, so Gage stepped back and jerked his head to hurry her along. He kept the gun on her as she climbed out. She leaned back against the bumper, brushing a lock of red hair out of her face. Now that he had the opportunity to have a good look at close quarters, he could see it was a dye job. Done well, natural-looking, but fake as her swooning victim routine earlier on. He wondered what her real color was. The red suited her, certainly. She glanced around, taking in their surroundings quickly, not wanting to take her eye off the gun

  He sighed. “My name’s Gage. How about you and me start over?”

  She said nothing, just stared back at him.

  “Tricky move with the phone, by the way. Who was your friend?”

  “Not a friend,” she said. “Just somebody I used to know.”

  Gage let that one go for now.

  “Anyway, before we were so rudely interrupted, I was explaining that I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “I told you, I can’t help you.”

  Gage’s tone hardened. “That would be a shame. For both of us.”

  In truth, he would take no pleasure in harming this woman. She had caused him some inconvenience, but he couldn’t really blame her for that. If she couldn’t help him, though, or wouldn’t, then she would become one more problem that would have to be dealt with.

  She stared back at him, coolly appraising his words. He knew she was smart enough to understand that this was no idle threat. The dead man in her house was evidence of that.

  “Look, I know my husband was involved in some things he didn’t tell me about.”

  Progress. She had stopped pretending this was a case of mistaken identity, at least. She had known, deep down, even if she didn’t know the details. The wives always did.

  “It was easier for you not to ask the questions, right? You didn’t want to know too much about where the money was coming from. Nice house, new kitchen, new car every three years ... you’re happy. Am I right?”

  A flash of irritation crossed her face. The reaction gave Gage some satisfaction. He thought what he was suggesting was largely true, but he had deliberately couched it in those terms to get under her skin. To make her rail against being cast as the poor, dumb little kept wife. He hoped it would encourage her to be more forthcoming, to prove that she was more than a blind eye, a closed mouth and a nice kitchen. Sometimes you had to let the subject trap herself.

  “Why are you ...” she stopped and realized she was using the wrong tense. “Why were you looking for my husband?”

  “This isn’t a two-way conversation, Mrs. Freel.”

  She grimaced.

  “You don’t like being called that? You’re right. First names are friendlier.” He searched his memory for the name he had seen on Freel’s phone. “Carol? It is Carol, isn’t it.”

  She ignored the question and asked her own a second time. Ballsy.

  “Why were you looking for him? I just want to know. Maybe it will help me to think of something.”

  Gage narrowed his eyes. He was wary of anything that came out of this woman’s mouth. Likely this was just a time-wasting exercise. But so what if it was? It couldn’t benefit her. He had frisked her before throwing her into the trunk. She had no other phones or devices. Nothing that could help her friend, whoever he was, track her down.

  “I think you know. Or maybe you think it’s norma
l to disappear from your house overnight, the way you did back in Vegas.”

  “Dom said it would be best.”

  “‘Dom said it would be best,’” Gage repeated, making sure to inject just the right note of condescension.

  She didn’t rise to the bait. “He was concerned about some business associates. That they might be turning nasty.”

  “So you just went along with it.”

  She shrugged. “We move around a lot. What’s one more move?”

  Gage watched her with interest. Either she was astonishingly naive, or just ruthlessly pragmatic. “Dom was right,” he said after a minute. “And that’s why I’m here. His business associates brought me in. If your husband hadn’t tried to take me on, I wouldn’t have had to bother you at all. You would have come home to an empty house, and Freel could have gotten back in touch with you when it was over.”

  She looked down, avoiding his gaze. “Did he say anything? Before he ...”

  “He didn’t get the chance.”

  He reached into his pocket and took the matching brass keys out, holding them in his palm so she could see them. One and two. If she recognized the keys, or understood what they were, she gave nothing away.

  “What are those for?”

  “They’re for a dual-lock safe,” Gage said. “I took one from your husband, one from a man named McKinney. The only thing I don’t have is the safe. Where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Gage replaced the keys in his pocket and brought his gun back up to point at her. He didn’t say anything, just turned his head from side to side. If she really didn’t know anything, it would be better to deal with her here and now. There was nobody around. The ridge provided cover. In the distance, they could hear the noise of a big rig passing on the highway. It might be hours or days before somebody else came down this quiet little road.

  “Okay, maybe I have something that could help,” Carol said. Her voice wavered slightly, as though she was finally realizing he wasn’t bluffing.

  Gage waited, still holding the gun on her.

  “We took a road trip down here before we left Summerlin for good,” she said. “Dom said he wanted to get out of town for a few days. We stayed in Phoenix the first night. Dom met a friend ... Logan, I think his name was. He suggested visiting this old town in the middle of nowhere. The three of us headed out there the next day.”

  “What was the name of the town?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t remember the name.”

  “Try.”

  “It wasn’t a real town.”

  Gage sighed. “A make-believe town, huh? This doesn’t sound all that helpful.”

  “Wait, no. I didn’t mean it wasn’t real. It was abandoned. A ghost town, one of those old mining places.”

  “And, presumably, you can find your way back there.”

  She hesitated, looked at the trunk. She didn’t want to get back in. Reluctantly, she nodded.

  “We had packed a picnic. We ate and then we explored the place a little. Dom and his friend went back to the car at one point. There was an old building I wanted to sketch. It’s kind of a hobby, I guess. I like to—”

  “Fascinating, get to the point.”

  “I remember there was a case in the trunk when we left Vegas. Hard plastic, like a briefcase, but smaller. I remember because I had never seen it before. Logan got into his car and went back to Phoenix, and we went on ahead. When we got to our hotel, the case was gone.”

  Gage said nothing, waited for her to continue.

  “I think, maybe, whatever you’re looking for could be there.”

  “That’s what it sounds like, from your story.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I’d have to be an idiot not to be suspicious.”

  “If I take you there, show you where we went, will you let me go?”

  Gage kept his eyes on her, not lowering the gun. He wondered how long he had to find the safe. He would have to call Walter in a few hours. He and his friends would not be pleased when they discovered that Freel was dead, particularly after they had told him to stand down. But perhaps that didn’t matter anymore.

  He gestured at the car with his free hand. “Get in.”

  She glanced briefly at the trunk, not wanting to take her eyes off his gun.

  “How will I ...?”

  He shook his head impatiently. “You’re driving.”

  She went around to the driver’s side of the Chrysler and got in. Gage reached around to the back of his belt and undipped his handcuffs. He snapped one cuff over the steering wheel, and the other over Carol’s left hand. He walked around the car and got in the passenger side, keeping his gun on her in his right hand. In his left, he dangled the car key. She reached for it and he pulled it just out of her grasp.

  “You’re going to turn and drive back up to the road, and then you’re going to take a left and head north. You’re going to keep it to sixty, max. You’re going to ask my permission before you deviate in any way from the road. You’re not going to try anything stupid. Your husband was stupid. What do you weigh?”

  She looked confused. “What?”

  “I’m guessing about a hundred and twenty, if that,” he guessed. “So don’t get any ideas. I’m not going to have any trouble moving your body out of the way and taking over the wheel, if I have to. If you swerve off the road, I’ll shoot you and grab the wheel. If you try to signal another driver, I’ll shoot you and grab the wheel. If you ...”

  “Okay, I get it.”

  “Do you?”

  Carol sighed and stared ahead out of the dusty windshield. “Look, I’m not going to try anything stupid. I want this over as much as you do. If I take you to this place, you let me go, all right?”

  Gage didn’t say anything for a minute. Carol didn’t break eye contact.

  “All right?” she repeated.

  He dropped the key into her palm.

  “Drive,” Gage said.

  37

  “Where is he taking her?”

  Blake had his mouth open to answer Sarah’s question when they heard a loud banging on the door downstairs, Sarah’s eyes met Blake’s. Neither of them moved. A few seconds later, the knock on the door was repeated.

  “Hello? Who’s in there?” A woman’s voice. Insistent, suspicious.

  The knocking continued. Blake edged over to the window and looked down onto the front. The porch roof covered the door, so it was impossible for him to see who was there.

  “I’ll go,” Sarah said. “It doesn’t sound like she’s going to give up.”

  She walked out of the room and down the stairs. The door was solid wood, with a peephole in the center. She took a look through the fisheye lens and saw a distorted image of a thin woman in her fifties with gray-blonde hair and a look of impatience on her face.

  Sarah tried to banish the image of Freel’s body from her mind and composed herself before opening the door.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  “Who are you?”

  Sarah affected a look of confusion. “I’m Jane. I’m Carol’s sister?” She held her hand out. The woman ignored it.

  “I live across the road. I saw a woman leaving with a man in a hurry. Looked like he was manhandling her. They didn’t even stop to shut the door. And then I saw you and your friend arriving in a hurry.” She pursed her lips, waiting for an explanation.

  “Oh, right,” Sarah said. “Nothing’s wrong if that’s what you were worried about, she just stepped out to the store.”

  The suspicion stayed on her face. Sarah decided on a change of tack.

  “Are you a friend of Carol’s, Miss ...?”

  “Mrs. Phillips. I’m on the neighborhood watch.”

  Sarah put on her most dazzling smile. “That’s wonderful you thought to come over and check everything was okay. I’m so glad Carol has such considerate neighbors.”

  Mrs. Phillips softened a little. “Well, just as long as everything’s all right.”<
br />
  “Everything’s fine. I’ll ask Carol to stop by your house later to thank you.”

  Sarah closed the door and went upstairs again. Blake was examining the laptop.

  “Nicely done,” he said without looking back at her.

  “I just hope she doesn’t have a good memory for faces. Unless you’re planning on calling this in.”

  “Too late for it to do any good.”

  Sarah gave Freel’s body a wide berth, but she couldn’t help glancing down at him.

  “Should we put something over his face?”

  “No,” Blake said quickly. “And don’t touch anything.”

  “Right, of course,” she said, remembering that this was a homicide scene, and any traces they left would have to be explained. She tried to think if she had touched anything. She was pretty sure only the door handle and the banister, which she would wipe down on the way out. Blake was examining the laptop on the desk, which was switched on. He appeared to be breaking his own rule, and then Sarah realized he wasn’t planning on leaving the laptop behind.

  “If Gage was here to kill Freel, why take Carol?”

  “I don’t think he did want to kill Freel,” Blake said.

  “What’s on the laptop?”

  “It looks like he used a USB hacker to break into it. The bonus for us is we’re in without a password.”

  “Worth a look, but we better get out of here. I don’t want to risk Mrs. Phillips coming back.”

  Sarah crossed over to the window, keeping Freel’s body as far from her as possible. She was looking out at a world that was carrying on as though a man hadn’t just died. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, although it was over eighty degrees.

  “They could be anywhere,” she said. “We don’t know which way they went; we don’t even know what kind of car he was driving.”

  “Maybe we don’t need to know,” Blake said. “The way I see it, we only have one shot—assume they’re headed back to Corinth.”

  38

  At first, Gage kept the gun just below chest level. Where it could not be seen from outside of the car, but where Carol couldn’t help but be aware of it pointing at her stomach. She turned the car in the road and headed back toward the highway. Gage was pleased to note that she was following his advice to the letter. No sudden moves, no erratic driving. Not too fast, not too slow. Considering her situation, she was a model of calm. She could be taking her driving test.