Forever Man

by Brian Matthews

  “And Kevin,” added Katie. She shook her head, frowning. “I—there’s something I’m missing here.”

  Gene cut into the conversation. “I don’t think finding either one is going to be easy.”

  “True,” Owens agreed, then turned to Katie. “I’m afraid finding Darryl is going to have to come first. We have to keep him away from the boy.”

  Katie shook her head again. “I don’t agree. If we find Kevin first, then this Webber guy will eventually come to us. Wouldn’t that give us the advantage?”

  Owens pursed his lips. “Not bad. But let’s think this through. First, your suggestion turns this into a race. Can you guarantee that we’ll be the first ones to find to the boy?”

  “But we—” Katie began, then stopped. She pulled her lower lip in between her teeth. “I suppose not.”

  “And if we are the first to find him,” Owens went on, “Darryl could very well be right behind us. That places Kevin in the middle of a possible—no, a probable gunfight. Do you think that’s going to keep him safe?”

  Katie began shifting from foot to foot, a scowl on her face. “Okay, I get it. Bad idea.”

  “No, there are no bad ideas,” Owens countered. “Only incomplete reasoning. And complete reasoning, of course, comes with experience.”

  Katie stared at the man for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she relaxed and allowed herself a small smile. “At least I tried.”

  “Yes,” Owens said, returning her smile. “You did.”

  “Okay,” said Izzy. For some reason, the interaction between the old man and Katie had made her uncomfortable. Owens was a stranger, no matter how helpful he might appear. His easiness, his sense of familiarity with Katie, almost bordered on inappropriate. “Where do we start looking for Webber and Jack?”

  Owens gave Katie a final nod of encouragement, then turned his attention to Izzy. “You know, Darryl has to be staying somewhere. I can’t see him sleeping in his SUV all this time.”

  “That poses its own problems,” Izzy said. “Finding where he’s holed up could take hours, if not longer. There are dozens of motels within thirty miles, not to mention the campgrounds or the small places he could hide if he has a trailer. We just don’t have that kind of time.”

  Owens said, “I may be able to help with this one.” He walked behind the desk and picked up Jack’s phone. With his back turned to Izzy, he punched several buttons. He turned, holding the receiver to his ear. After a few seconds, he spoke into the phone. “Hey, Phil. It’s me. Got a quick question, if you have a moment? When you trailed Darryl here—yeah, I’m in Kinsey now. Look, when he got here, was he towing anything? Trailer? Camper? Boat?” He frowned at Izzy and shook his head. “Nothing but the truck. Great. Thanks for the help.” He paused to listen. “No, it’s not been my best work, but I’m getting there. I’ll let you know when I’m done. Bye.” Then he hung up the phone. “It looks like you can stick with the hotels in the area.”

  “Who was that?” Izzy asked.

  “An old friend of mine.”

  Izzy looked at the phone. “That call will be traced, you know. After all this.” She gestured vaguely at the destruction in Jack’s office.

  Owens seemed unconcerned. “It’s for an empty office building in Colorado whose ownership is, shall we say, muddled. But before it got there, the call was routed through several switches. Someone might get as far as Lithuania. After that, forget it.”

  While Gene and Katie looked at Owens in frank amazement, Izzy absorbed the man’s words. Only a federal agency could manage what he claimed he had just done. Which of those would have an interest in an eight-year-old boy? “Are you FBI? CIA? NSA?”

  “I’ll let you work that out for yourself,” Owens said. “But for now, we have to get moving.” His gaze found Gene. “We can’t afford to let Darryl see you. Is there a place where you can hide out?”

  “Oh, I know a few spots that would work,” Gene replied, his hand lightly rubbing his back. “But I won’t be using them. I’m coming with you.”

  “Not a good idea,” said Owens. “If Darryl discovers that you’re still in town, things will get busy fast. Busy and dangerous.”

  “All the same,” Gene said, standing a little straighter. “We’re in this together. ‘All for one and one for all’.”

  Owens crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sure Dumas is rolling in his grave somewhere.”

  Gene crossed his arms. “And I’m not hiding while you guys risk your necks!”

  Izzy stepped between the two men. “We don’t have time for this.” Then she took Gene by the arm and led him away from the others. “You know he’s right,” she said. “The best way you can help is by staying out of sight.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “This is about Natalie’s life, as well Kevin’s. I need you to do this.”

  With extraordinary care, he removed her hand. Then he took her shoulders in his large hands and drew her close. He was peering at her with such intensity that her pulse quickened. An unexpected warmth spread through her. Or perhaps, she thought with a pang of guilt, it wasn’t so unexpected.

  “It’s always been the three of us,” Gene began. “You, me, and Stanley, ever since we were kids. Always together, always watching each other’s backs.” He paused, his eyes searching hers. “I’ve still got your back. And that means I’m coming along. I can’t imagine doing anything else. And don’t forget, Natalie’s important to me, too.”

  That warm feeling grew, and with it, her sense of guilt. She shouldn’t be feeling this way—at least, not anymore. Brushing his hands from her shoulders, she said, “All right. You win. I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a friend with me.”

  Gene opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something. There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. But then he gave her that lop-sided smile. “Besides, you wouldn’t deprive me a chance to save the day.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “Come on, hero. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 18

  After leaving his home, Jack Sallinen, with Denny Cain crouched in the back seat and Darryl Webber driving, had driven to a motel east of Kinsey. At the door to the room, Webber had ordered Denny Cain to stay outside and watch for anyone driving up to the motel. He crumpled a twenty, tossed it at Denny and pointed to the party store across the street. “Go get yourself some beer. At least you won’t look like a complete idiot while you’re sitting there.” Denny, who was nursing a sore hand from his rifle having been torn from his grip, glared at Webber. Jack thought Denny was going to say something, maybe tell Webber to go fuck himself, but the man simply picked up the money and skulked away.

  When Denny left, they went into the room, and Webber began unloading on Jack.

  “What’s the matter with you, Jack? That box on your desk. That’s where you hid those photos, isn’t it?”

  Jack’s eyes tracked the man pacing in front of him. “What’s the big deal? So Morris has them. It’s not like she can find her brat from looking at them.”

  “I wanted her preoccupied with her kid, you jackass. Now she knows you’re involved.”

  “She just saw us together. She doesn’t need the photos to figure that out.” Jack’s tone sharpened. “Anyway, let her come after me. That’d be perfect. She knows where my son is. I’ll choke the information out of her.”

  Webber shook his head. “She’s got Owens with her now. You stand as much a chance of getting through him as you do walking through this.” He slapped his hand against the room’s cracked wall.

  “He’s only one man.” Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew the handgun. “A couple shots and we’ll be rid of him.”

  Webber snatched the .38 from Jack’s hand. “Give me that before you hurt yourself. I swear you couldn’t hit the ground if you were aiming at it.”

  Jack was growing tired of Webber’s insults. “And what about you and your brilliant plan? Remember, we’re supposed to be helping Kevin. So where is he? Oh, wait! A bartender has him! Shows how goddamn
smart you are.”

  Quicker than Jack could’ve expected, Webber pressed the barrel of the .38 hard against Jack’s forehead. The cold metal dug painfully into his skin.

  “Shall I cancel our agreement right now?” Webber said evenly.

  A growl escaped from Jack’s throat.

  Webber’s grip on the pistol tightened. “Rein it in, Jack, or I’ll splatter your fucking brains all over that bed.”

  Jack’s lips peeled back from his teeth. His nostrils flared, and he could suddenly smell Webber. Knew the man had eaten a burger with onions earlier that day. And there was that awful noise—like loud static, except he thought he could hear voices hidden within the sounds. It filled his ears until they almost hurt.

  His muscles tensed. If he was fast enough, he could grab the gun. Jam it into Webber’s mouth and pull the trigger. Watch the man’s face fly apart in gobbets of red meat….

  Webber jabbed him in the forehead with the barrel. The pain brought Jack back to his senses.

  “Not yet,” said Webber. “Not just yet. We have other things to finish first.” He eased the barrel from Jack’s forehead. “Now, you back with us?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Are we clear on who is the boss?”

  He nodded again, his expression carefully neutral. “You are.”

  Webber set the pistol on the nightstand. “You’re a good man, but you need to learn your place, especially if you’re going to run in my circle. Not all my friends are as patient as I am.”

  Jack glared at Webber. One day he would have his moment with the man. He’d have his retribution. One day…but not today.

  “We need to find Kevin,” Jack said. “Vincent’s got him, and they could be headed anywhere by now.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t forget, Owens is the one who wants Kevin. As long as the old man sticks around, Vincent will eventually bring your boy back.”

  “Then what? We still have to get him back, and from what you said, I don’t think Owens is just going to hand him over.”

  Webber’s eyes widened in surprise. Then he smiled.

  “You know, there’s hope for you yet.”

  Izzy Morris sat at her desk. She and her group had just arrived at the police station. Her computer screen already displayed the results of an internet search for hotels near Kinsey. The station’s Yellow Pages directory lay open to the Hotel-Motel section. She was reaching for the phone to start calling when it rang, startling her.

  She answered the phone. It was her dispatcher, Aggie Ripley.

  “Phone call for you, Chief.”

  “Now’s not the best time. Tell whoever it is to call back.”

  Then Aggie told her who it was. Izzy sat up and snapped her fingers. Owens, Gene and Katie looked up at her.

  “Put him through,” she told her dispatcher.

  “Good afternoon, Chief Morris. Did you like my pictures?” Jack Sallinen sounded so close she could have reached out and choked him.

  “Where’s my daughter, you son of a bitch?”

  Jack laughed. “Not so civil now, are you?”

  “Where is she?”

  “Where you’ll never find her. Is Owens with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put me on speakerphone,” Jack said. “I want to talk to him.”

  “Like hell. You’re dealing with me. Now tell me where my daughter is.”

  She could almost hear the shrug over the phone. “Have it your way. You can bury your brat after I’ve mailed her back, piece by piece.”

  “You’re bluffing. You’re a mean-spirited bastard, but you’re not crazy.”

  “Think about it,” Jack said. “What have I got to lose? Those pictures mark my end. I might as well make it worthwhile.”

  Izzy thought for a moment. “Listen to me. Tell me where Natalie is, and I’ll work with the district attorney. Give her back to me—alive—and I’ll fight for a reduced charge. Work with me, Jack.” Tell me where my daughter is, damn you.

  “It’s insulting, you know. Thinking I’m stupid enough to believe you’d give me a break.”

  “I just want my daughter back. Give her to me and I’ll help you. I promise.”

  There was silence, enough that Izzy began to wonder if Jack had hung up. Then he said again, “Put me on speakerphone. I want Owens in on this.”

  She took a deep breath. “Don’t hang up.” She put Jack on hold, hit the speakerphone button, then reconnected his line. “You still there?”

  “Present and accounted for. Can you hear me, Owens?”

  Bart looked to Izzy, who nodded for him to go ahead.

  “I’m here,” he said. “Something I can do for you?”

  “Yes, there is. I want my son back.”

  “And I want an early retirement,” Owens replied. “Looks like we’re both out of luck.”

  Izzy heard a tinny laugh that didn’t belong to Jack. Where ever they were, Jack’s phone had a speaker function. Probably his cell, which would make it harder to trace.

  The new voice said, “Early retirement? Now that’s funny!”

  Darryl Webber.

  “Let’s stick with our deal, Jack,” Izzy said. “Will you tell me where Natalie is in exchange for my help with the prosecutor?”

  “And I just told you, you dumb-bunny bitch,” Jack answered. “I want my son back.”

  Izzy stifled a groan. The stubborn bastard was going to—

  “You still there, Morris?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Look, why did you call? You must want something.”

  “About time you got to the point,” said Jack. “We’re at what people call an impasse. I want my son. You want your daughter.” He paused for a moment. “I’m proposing a trade.”

  Izzy’s hopes soared. If they wanted to trade, then Natalie was still alive.

  Still alive.

  She was finally going to get her daughter back!

  But Owens’ next words brought her crashing down. With a shake of his head, he said, “There’ll be no deal.”

  “What?” Izzy and Jack said at the same time.

  “You heard me. No trade.” The old man was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. When he was done, he pushed it to Izzy. WE DON’T HAVE KEVIN! “Now let me talk to Darryl.”

  The answer seemed to have pushed Jack over the edge. He was screaming: “Give me Kevin or I’ll kill the girl! I’ll fucking kill her! You’ll never see her again, Morris!”

  Owens raised his voice. “Darryl, if you don’t take the phone from this gentleman, I’m going to hang up. Then you’ll never see the boy again.”

  Izzy started to protest—you’re going to get my daughter killed—but Owens raised a hand to silence her. She glared at him. He nodded that he understood her concern, then mouthed trust me.

  Through the phone she heard a struggle going on. Jack kept repeating that it was his phone. The other man said something low that Izzy couldn’t make out. Then Webber was on the phone.

  “Why do you have to be so difficult, Bartholomew?”

  “I’m just being practical,” Owens replied.

  “Seriously,” Webber said. “What’s your beef with the trade?”

  “Because you’re in a worse situation than I am.”

  “How so?” There was a note of caution in Webber’s voice.

  “You know perfectly well what I mean. We both came here for the boy, and I’m the one who has him. I’d hate to be you when this blows up in your face.”

  “Not funny,” Webber said, his voice thin with anger. “I will kill the girl. Jack here may not be a slicer and dicer, but you know perfectly well what I’m capable of. I’ll send her home in tiny little bits. First her fingers, then her toes, then her mouth, and then her nose.” Webber gave a chilling laugh. “Keep the boy from me, old man, and you’ll have to watch that woman put her daughter back together like a fucking jigsaw puzzle. Take the deal.”

  Izzy watched as Owens’ gaze rose to meet hers. She saw the answer in his eyes. There was going to be no de
al. There couldn’t be. They didn’t have Kevin.

  Stall, she mouthed to Owens. Take the deal. Please.

  His small, sad head shake was like a stab in her back.

  Natalie was going to die.

  “I’m sorry, Darryl,” said Bart. “There’ll be no deal. I’ve got him and I’m keeping him. Good luck with the rest of your short life.”

  When Webber’s voice came back, it was pure venom. “This is going to fall on your head, Bartholomew. Everything that happens from this point forward will be your fault. Morris and her daughter. The bartender and that girl. They’re all going to die while you watch. Their blood will be on your hands—as if there isn’t enough of that already.” Webber was breathing heavily, his rage palpable even from this distance. “Do you know who you’re dealing with, Chief Morris? Has he even told you the truth? No? Oh this is rich! You’re gonna love this one. Chief, you’ve partnered up with one of the Fo—”

  “—Bye, Darryl,” Owens said and quickly broke the connection.

  Izzy shot to her feet. “Wait! What was he going to say? One of the what?”

  Bart Owens sat back, crossed his legs, and calmly folded his hands on his knees. Then he looked down and drew in a deep breath. When he spoke, he was still avoiding her gaze.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t let anything distract us from finding Darryl. His stories would’ve done just that.”

  Izzy’s anger had been growing inside her, first at Jack, then at Webber, and now at Owens. “You told me to trust you, but you just sacrificed my daughter to that madman! You could’ve stalled. Given us more time to find them. But you didn’t. And now they’re going to kill her! You owe me, Owens. I want an explanation. I want to know what Webber was going to say. I want to know who you really are.”

  Gene was scowling openly at Owens. Katie looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be concerned for Izzy or curious about Owens.