by Jamie Hill
“Would you buy the book?”
“No, because you’re going to give me an autographed copy.”
The author smiled sheepishly. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and yes, I would.”
“What about a video game? Do you see the potential that I was talking about? Maybe even a sequel or two?”
“Totally. I’d buy the game, too.”
The doorbell rang and they all looked at the door suspiciously, then at one another.
Evan peered through the peephole and nodded, then unlocked the door.
Doug stepped inside, appearing disheveled and tired after his own worrisome night and long flight. “Hey. Any news?”
“Nothing yet. Good to see you. We’ll take all the help we can get.”
Doug zeroed in on Nick and charged in his direction. “What are you doing to fix this? As usual, it’s all your fault.”
Nick jumped from the chair. “I figured you’d be dying to blame me. Stand in line, buddy. I already blame myself. The question is, what are you going to do about it? Hit me again?”
“Again?” Evan chimed in. “Is he the one you had the bar fight with?”
Doug looked at the chief. “What bar fight?”
Ben chuckled. “It was right there in the office, boss. We all saw it. We tried to keep it from you.”
Evan shook his head. “Oh for Pete’s sake. What in the hell were the two of you fighting over?”
Nick gazed at Doug warily but didn’t reply.
Doug continued to scowl. He didn’t offer an explanation either.
“Probably a girl,” Charlie commented. “Isn’t that what guys usually fight over?”
The chief glanced from one man to the other. “I don’t get it. Is there some past history I’m not aware of?”
Nick gauged Doug’s reaction, determining the other man probably wasn’t going to hit him. He glanced at Evan. “Nothing you need to be concerned with. We should focus our energy on finding Jordan. Doug and I can get past this.” He stared at Doug pointedly. “Can’t we?”
It took another full minute of glowering before Doug finally gave in and turned to the boss. “Yeah. We’re fine. What’s the latest?”
Evan updated him while they prepared and ate some sandwiches for lunch. Afterwards, they all sat around the living room with their various phones, tablets and computers, talking.
Doug said softly, “Jordan’s mechanic called me. He’d received the photo text and was concerned when she didn’t reply to his message.”
“I knew it,” Ben said. “She wanted to give me his number one day, and I watched her enter it into her phone. I wonder who else got the picture?”
Doug rubbed his temples. “I guess this is the one time it’s good she doesn’t have a lot of close family. They’d be going through hell right now.” He looked at Ben. “Remember Chicago?”
“Most definitely.”
Evan added, “Chicago turned out all right. This is going to as well. Jordan’s a strong woman. I pity the fool who mistakes her beauty for weakness.”
“She’s not weak, that’s for sure,” Doug agreed. “So we all texted her phone back, and were told they’d be in touch? Has anyone texted again?”
“We were instructed not to,” Evan said.
Woods leaned forward. “You all texted Jordan’s phone after getting the photo?” He looked at Nick. “You too?”
Nick stretched his neck from side to side. “You know I did. We were standing here together.”
“No. I went to put a trace on her cell. You never said you texted her back.”
They all seemed to grasp his meaning at the same time. Nick groaned. “If you could put a trace on her cell, then they could put a trace on mine.”
Woods stood. “It would have taken them some time, but they would have immediately ruled out all the numbers calling back from Kansas. Yours was the only one in the area.”
Evan slapped his thighs and stood up. “Well, hell.”
Charlie blinked. “What does that mean?”
Nick looked at him. “It means pack your bags. We’re moving out.”
Amidst Charlie’s babbling and questions, they packed their gear and were ready to leave in twenty minutes. Nick took a last look around the place. Marshals were used to bugging out with little notice. Witnesses invariably left something behind.
“Got that flash drive?” He grinned at Charlie as they loaded into their SUV.
“Damn right.” He pulled the hood on his sweatshirt up and climbed in the back seat.
Ben got in front with Nick, and Doug in back with Charlie. Woods and Evan would drive themselves. The local marshal had made arrangements for a new safe house, and they’d follow him there once they’d determined no one else was tagging along. It was going to be a long and winding drive. They always were.
“If anything happens, be prepared to duck down, Charlie,” Nick instructed as he drove.
“I’ve got him,” Doug said defensively. “You just watch the road.”
“Bossy,” Nick muttered.
Charlie chuckled. “So now that your chief isn’t here, what were you two really fighting about? I already know. It was Jordan, wasn’t it?”
“No,” Doug said.
At the same time, Nick said, “Not really.”
“Well, sort of,” Doug added. “But not in the way you think. I’m happily married.”
Nick glanced sideways at Ben. “That’s an oxymoron, isn’t it? Like ‘government intelligence’ or ‘a fine mess’?”
Ben and Charlie laughed, but it sounded to Nick like Doug might have growled. He didn’t turn around to check.
Doug said, “Since you asked, Charlie, Nick and Jordan used to date years ago. He treated her badly and left without ever looking back. When he was asked to return and fill in for me this month, he should have said ‘no’. Jordan should have said ‘no’. It was not a good idea.”
Charlie laughed again. “I don’t think Jordan agrees with you. I saw her kissing him, and it seemed like a good idea to both of them at the time.”
Nick made a face at Charlie in the rearview mirror. “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”
Ben chimed in. “Sorry you kissed her, or sorry you got caught?”
“Hey!” Nick was feeling ganged up on. “I’ll have you know, she kissed me. And yeah, I’m only sorry we got caught.”
Doug leaned forward. “She’s going to be the sorry one, when you take off again and leave her with another broken heart.”
Nick glanced over his shoulder quickly. “You a mind reader now? Because that hasn’t happened.”
“It did six years ago, and Jordan was a mess. You broke her heart, asshole. I can’t stand the thought that she might allow you to do the same thing all over again.”
He watched the road, continuing to follow Woods. “Who says I’m going to? I have no intention of breaking her heart.”
“You did it before,” Doug insisted stubbornly.
Nick sniffed. “My investment guy tells me that past performance is no guarantee of future results.”
Doug spouted back, “Yeah, and the bible tells me that a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”
Charlie looked at him. “Does the bible really say that?”
Doug nodded. “It does. Not in those exact words, but pretty close.”
They were all silent for a moment, digesting the information.
Ben finally said, “So why did you leave, Nick? It seems like you and Jordan are a good match. Do you mind my asking what happened?”
“It was complicated,” was all he felt comfortable saying.
Doug spoke up. “No, I think you should tell them. Explain why you left Jordan in a quivering heap on my sofa.”
Nick shot him a look in the rearview mirror. “Do we really want to air Jordan’s laundry when she’s not here to speak up for herself?”
“She didn’t do anything wrong. That was all you, bucko.” Doug stared at him.
Nick sucked up
his courage and let the reason spill. “She got pregnant. She knew I didn’t want kids. Not just in the, ‘I really didn’t want him but now that he’s here I love him’ way. I did not want children. Jordan knew it.”
“So?” Ben urged. “She doesn’t have kids. What happened? What’d you do?”
Nick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, uh, offered to pay for the abortion.”
He heard the collective groaning of the group, and spotted the winces on their faces. He hadn’t said the words aloud since he’d discussed it with Jordan all those years ago. It didn’t sound any better now. “Shitty thing to do. I get that.”
“You think?” Doug snapped. “She was heartbroken. Despondent. You destroyed her. She couldn’t eat, and could barely get out of bed. A few weeks later she got sick and lost the baby. Lucky for you. Saved you a few hundred bucks.”
Nick slammed on his brakes at a red light and turned to look at Doug. “Hey! I told her and I’ll tell you. I didn’t know that. She never called me. No one ever called me. I had no way of knowing.”
Ben said, “So all this time you thought she was here, raising your kid? That’s almost worse.”
“No, I didn’t. I really thought she’d gotten rid of it.” Nick glanced around as the light changed, and proceeded ahead.
Doug leaned in again. “As the father of a baby girl, I find your terminology repulsive. Avery is one of the best things in my life. I’m glad Christi didn’t decide to ‘get rid of it’.”
“Bully for you, man. I’m glad you’re so happy. I’m not wired that way. I don’t hate kids, I just don’t want any. I was very clear about that with Jo. I also made it clear that I still feel that way.” The pitch of his voice rose a notch. “She doesn’t like it, which is why we haven’t actually rekindled our relationship yet. It’s a sore subject, and one we’ll have to work through together. But it’s nobody’s business except ours. And when she gets back, if any of you breathes one word of this discussion to her, I’m afraid I might have to kick your ass.”
Doug settled back in his seat. “I’m willing to risk it. I won’t let her make the same mistake twice.”
Nick sighed. “Forewarned is forearmed.”
Charlie said, “I think they make a cute couple. Jordan needs someone to spar with. I’m not going to be around forever you know.”
They all chuckled. Ben added, “For what it’s worth, I think so, too. Jordan deserves to be happy. If you two can resolve your differences on the children front, then maybe you’re the man to do it. Whatever she decides, I’ll support her.”
“Thank you,” Nick murmured. “Now, we just need to get her back, and figure out her thoughts on the subject.”
“I’d agree with that,” Doug said softly. “But I still think you’re an asshole.”
Nick grinned at him in the mirror. “Right back atcha, man.”
Charlie said, “Aw. It’s a mutual admiration society.”
Doug smacked his arm jovially, and Nick drove on.
Chapter Ten
California State Prison, Corcoran
Level IV Housing, General Population
Corcoran, California
Van took his seat at the table and glanced at the men standing before him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
The District Attorney tossed a sheaf of papers onto the table. “You stop dicking us around, and you’ll never have to see us again. This is an agreement your lawyer and I worked up. If you disclose the whereabouts of the US Marshal I’ll reduce the charges against you. With good behavior, you might actually get to see your grandchildren graduate from college.”
Van reached for the papers and glanced over them. “We’re talking, what? Fifteen years?”
“Twenty-five,” DA Canady said.
Van looked up. “My grandchildren would be pretty stupid if it took them until age thirty to graduate. I don’t deal for twenty-five years. I’ll think about it if fifteen is on the table.”
Canady clenched his jaw and his fists at the same time. “You could be facing the death penalty. You really want to quibble over a few years? It’s all going to depend on your behavior, anyway. If you keep bribing guards and selling dope to other prisoners, you’ll die a shriveled up old man in here.”
His heart skipped a beat, but Van tried not to show it. He asked casually, “What are you talking about?”
The detective he’d seen previously opened the door and a uniformed officer entered, escorting a handcuffed guard. Lester.
Van’s heart sank. He still tamped down any emotion, glancing at the guard then back at the DA with a casual shrug. “And?”
“The gig is up, VanDyke. If you can believe this, your son spilled the beans. He told us all about how he smuggled blow in to you, and you sold what you didn’t keep for your own use.”
Van glanced at his fingernails. “You’re full of shit.”
“Really?” Canady held up his phone and showed Van the picture on the screen.
Tracy’s mug shot. Van’s gut lurched.
“This was taken yesterday following his arrest for possession and intent to distribute. He’s looking at several felonies. We offered to reduce his charges to misdemeanors in exchange for information. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to know much.”
Van sighed. “What is it you want, exactly?”
Canady sighed just as dramatically. “What we want exactly is the location of our missing US Marshal. We’ve offered each of you pretty sweet deals. If you’re as smart as you seem to think you are, you should be considering yours.”
He pushed the papers away. “I wish I could help, but I don’t know where the marshal is.”
The DA leaned forward. “Sticking with that story isn’t helping you, VanDyke. Tracy is cooperating, and so is Mr. Lester, here. Pretty soon you’re going to find yourself alone and lonely, sitting on death row. Do yourself a favor. There won’t be any additional charges brought against you if you tell us where the marshal is. That in itself is worth a bundle.”
“It would be, if I knew.”
The detective stepped forward. “Give me five minutes alone with this douchebag. I think I can persuade him.”
Oliver Bean cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Canady looked at Bean. “Talk to him. Make him see the benefits of cooperating. If he doesn’t, I swear on a stack of bibles, I intend to charge him with every count I can dredge up.” Canady narrowed his eyes. “And I mean it.” He turned and walked out, motioning for the others to follow.
Van watched them go, and Bean took the chair in front of him.
“Van, you’ve got to do what they’re asking. Take the deal, let them have the marshal back. What do you care? You and Tracy will make out like the bandits that you are.” He smiled at his own joke.
Van didn’t return the pleasantry. “It’s too late. I can’t give them the marshal. She’s gone.”
Bean’s eyes bugged as he leaned in. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Gone, as in the same place I sent Louie ‘The Tuna’ Scarpelli when he double crossed me last year. Sleeping with the fishes. The deep end of the ocean.”
The lawyer held his head in his hands. “Already? Oh, my God, no. You’ve blown it, Van. This time I think you’ve blown it for you, and Tracy.”
“Tracy.” He shook his head. “That schmuck. Is he still in custody?”
“Yes. And no one is getting close to him, so rule out whatever idea you’re concocting now.”
“Are you representing him?”
“Of course.”
Van smiled. “Then you’re close to him. Tell Tracy we need to turn our focus to Mr. Lester. The stupid screw really doesn’t need to tell everything he knows.”
Bean’s eyes widened. “You are digging yourself deeper and deeper. What’s happened to you, Van? You’re not the man I used to know. Lenore would never have condoned any of this.”
“Lenore is gone!” Van snapped. “And I’ve spent the past six months in this hellh
ole. You’re right, I’m not the same man anymore. I’ve had to learn how to survive.”
Bean pushed back his chair and stood up. “Seems to me, everyone you know has had to learn how to survive around you.” He turned and headed for the door.
“You got any complaints?” Van yelled after him. “I made you, Bean! Everything you have is because of me!”
Bean turned to face him one last time. “Headaches, gut aches, ulcers, and hemorrhoids? Yeah, those probably all are because of you. You’re a pain in the ass, Van. Always have been.” He walked out.
“God damn it, Bean! Get back in here!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed, but Van couldn’t rein himself in. “I made you, you son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” He screwed up his face and yelled as loudly as he could, “I’ll kill you!”
Detective Ryan stuck his head back into the room. “Should I note the date and time, here? That sounded an awful lot like a threat.”
The DA moved next to the cop. “He won’t do anything to his lawyer. There’s not another litigator on the west coast that would take his case. He’d rot in here for sure. Besides, he knows Bean can’t disclose anything they’ve ever talked about. Attorney-client confidentiality.”
Ryan held up a finger. “Is it true that the attorney-client privilege can be broken in order to prevent the commission of a crime?”
Canady scratched his head. “You know, you’re right. Maybe Bean can talk to us.” He looked at Van before closing the door between them.
* * *
Los Angeles, California
Nick poured himself a cup of coffee the next morning. He hadn’t slept much. As far as he could tell no one had, including Charlie. Nick’s encouragement had apparently spurred the author on, and he’d typed on his computer well into the night.
The new safe house was nicer than the last, but none of them really cared. It was nothing more than a place to hang their hats, to sit tight and wait. Comfort meant little. Waiting was interminable.
Nick sighed. I hate waiting.
Thoughts of Jordan infiltrated his mind when he was awake and his dreams when he slept. He’d gone six years without seeing her, though he’d thought about her occasionally, but nothing obsessive. He hadn’t been a hermit. Plenty of women had wandered in and out of his life, but none of them stuck around for one reason or another.