KnockOut ft-13

by Catherine Coulter

  He had four FBI agents at Bricker’s Bowl, staking out the house, waiting for them to come back. But what if they didn’t come back? Maybe Joanna and Ethan were both dead. No, Savich couldn’t accept that, he simply couldn’t. He had to stop this, he was driving himself crazy.

  He said, “I wish Autumn would pick up my call.” He gathered Sherlock against him and they fell into an exhausted sleep.

  It was near eleven o’clock in the morning when Savich’s cell phone sang out Rihanna’s “Umbrella.”

  It was Ollie Hamish. Just as Sherlock had done with Ox, Savich turned on the speaker.

  “Savich, everything’s okay, let me say that first off. Lissy Smiley and Victor Nesser somehow found your home address. As you know, we’ve been keeping your house under watch. Dane Carver and Jack Crowne spotted them trying to sneak around to the back just after dawn this morning. They spotted each other, actually. They’d man-aged to get back to their car and floor it out of there before Dane and Jack could bring them down. Lissy was hanging out the passenger-side window, shooting at them for all she was worth. Victor knocked down a couple of mailboxes and mangled a kid’s bike on the way. Thank God none of your neighbors were up and about yet.

  “Jack told me it was a wild honker chase, with a half-dozen local cop cars joining in. They left an injured pedestrian and a small Volkswagen flipped over on its side near the Potomac, and got across the bridge before we could close it. Then they drove right into the gates of the Arlington National Cemetery.”

  Savich was gripping his cell. It was hard to be silent and wait and listen. He wanted to shake the words faster out of Ollie’s throat. Finally, he couldn’t stand it. He said, his voice flat, “They didn’t get them. Lissy and Victor got away.”

  “So far,” Ollie said. “They blew out a rear tire driving over the grass and bushes, knocked over some of the grave markers, and skidded into a tree. Dane said the car was totaled, both front and back windshields shattered from gunfire. But Lissy and Victor were out and away before they reached the car.”

  Savich said, “That means they’ll have to get a car, and they’ll car- jack one if they have to, doesn’t matter how many people are around.”

  “Yeah, we’ve got local police patrolling the streets within a mile of Arlington National Cemetery, setting up a perimeter, checking all the houses. You know, Savich, Lissy can’t be back to one hundred percent yet, so she’s got to slow them up. We may get them yet.”

  But Savich wasn’t at all sure about that. It was a whole lot easier being a killer than a cop—cops had to follow rules. Lissy and Victor could have grabbed a car and been on the road again in five minutes, if they were willing to create havoc—and they were indeed willing, Savich knew. They didn’t care what they left in their wake. Lissy would kill everyone in the car if it would give them a few minutes before the bodies were discovered.

  Dane, Jack, and Ollie knew it too.

  Savich said, “I’m an idiot. I should have had Sean and Gabriella moved out right away, but I didn’t think there was a chance Lissy and Victor would be back so quickly. Sherlock and I were going to Titus Hitch or maybe back to Bricker’s Bowl, we weren’t sure yet exactly where, but not now, not with those two running around in Washington. We’re coming home, Ollie, as soon as we can.”

  Ollie knew he’d do the same thing; he’d run all the way back if he had to, to ensure his child was all right. He said, “I understand. Listen, our agents will continue the watch on your house in Georgetown. Go to the airport. I’ll call you as soon as I have a couple of reservations for the first flight to Washington. Listen, guys, Sean’s okay.”

  When he flipped off his cell, Savich felt Sherlock’s warm breath on his neck. “That was too close, Dillon, way too close. They’re not going to give up. Lissy won’t stop until she’s in handcuffs or she’s dead.”

  “I agree. Revenge is what’s driving her, nothing but rage and revenge. If Lissy’s driving the horses, and I think she is, we can expect more crazy behavior and not much planning. What they did early this morning—trying to break into our house in Georgetown, the sheer craziness of it—scares me to death.”

  “We’ve got to try to find them before they try another attack. And the fact is, we don’t know where Ethan and Joanna and Autumn are right now. But maybe we can get Victor and Lissy.”

  “It could be,” Savich said slowly, “that Victor’s really scared, that he wants to find a rock and crawl under it. But not Lissy, never Lissy. Still, even though we know she’s the alpha dog, I’m betting they’re going to go back to Winnett.” He shook his head, shrugged. “But what do I know?”

  “You know it in your gut, don’t you?”

  He nodded, and she kissed him and tossed him his pants. “Let’s get dressed and get to the airport. We’ll have a better idea of what’s going on after we get home.”

  Savich thought about Autumn. He tried contacting her once again before they boarded the plane, but she didn’t answer.

  52

  GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

  Thursday

  Savich held Sean close, smoothed his fingertip over his boy’s left eyebrow. He felt such blessed relief that he was all right. Sherlock was tickling his ribs. Sean was laughing and yelling at Astro to save him. Astro was jumping on them, yipping his head off, his tail whipping back and forth so fast it was a blur.

  Savich smiled over at his mother, who stood close, watching and smiling too, a plate of chocolate-chip cookies in her hand. Behind her stood Congressman Felix Monroe from Missouri, a widower of ten years, and he too was smiling as he watched. Savich didn’t know the congressman well, since he’d just begun seeing his mom. Savich felt funny about it but knew he shouldn’t. He looked over at his mother, saw the worry in her eyes that she managed to hide from Sean.

  Dillon? Are you there? Where are you, Dillon?

  Savich said, “Sherlock, take this monkey, stuff a cookie in his mouth. I’ve got to take a call.”

  “Autumn?”

  He nodded.

  “Thank God. Go, Dillon. Hey, sweetie, let’s go scarf down some of your grandmother’s cookies, okay? I can see Felix is drooling for some, too.”

  “Astro loves cookies,” Sean told Felix. Sean considered Felix cool since he’d showed him how his iPhone worked.

  “Your mom’s right. I do too,” Felix said. “Your grandmother makes the best I’ve ever eaten.”

  “But you can’t give Astro any chocolate, Sean, it’ll make him sick.”

  And naturally, the first question out of Sean’s mouth was “Why?”

  Savich walked swiftly from the living room, down the hallway toward the kitchen, and into the half bath on the main level of his mother’s house. He closed the door, then closed his eyes for the simple reason that it immediately cut all distractions. Autumn? Are you all right? Your mom? Ethan?

  He saw her then, clear as day, her back pressed against a wall, her legs drawn up to her chest, her hair in a tangled ponytail, tear streaks dried on her pale cheeks. She didn’t look hurt, but she did look wrung out.

  Tell me what happened.

  Blessed guessed I called you before, Dillon, back at Ethan’s house. He told me he’d kill Mom and Ethan if I called you again, so I couldn’t take a chance until now. We’re in a motel somewhere. I’m in the bathroom. I heard him tell Ethan and Mama that we were going back where I belonged. I don’t belong at that bad place with my grandmother, do I, Dillon?

  No, of course not. I won’t allow that, Autumn. Neither will Ethan and your mama. Tell me how you managed to call me now.

  Blessed wanted to go to sleep, so he tied Mama and Ethan to chairs. I think he was afraid if he left them and went to sleep he couldn’t control them anymore. He locked me in the bathroom, told me he’d know if I called you, but I don’t believe him. He doesn’t know, does he, Dillon?

  No, he doesn’t know. It’s all right. Thank God Ethan and Joanna were alive. Good, Blessed’s asleep. Is Grace there?

  No, Dillon. Grace is dead. E
than shot him with his rifle.

  One down. Do you know where this motel is? Did you see the name of the motel?

  She thought and thought. He saw tears come to her eyes.

  Too much, too fast. She was just a little kid, a couple years older than Sean, and here he was questioning her like he would an adult. But again, he saw she was looking thoughtful, focused. He felt a strong pull of affection for her, and admiration. She was smart, she had grit. Even this young, she hadn’t frozen.

  Did you drive a long time, Autumn?

  I don’t know, Dillon. I slept because I was so tired. I think Blessed did all the driving. I don’t know why he didn’t have Ethan or Mama drive. Maybe you can’t drive when you’re stymied.

  That’s possible. Tell me about the highway you were driving on. Was it big? Lots of Lines going both directions?

  Yes, it’s real big, with a million cars. Blessed pulled off an exit and bought us some Wendy’s hamburgers, then he looked at a motel across the road, but he shook his head and drove onto this old road. He pulled up to this motel.

  Did you see the name of a town?

  I don’t think so.

  Did you see the name of the motel?

  She frowned and her fingers began to fret. I can’t remember it, just some old sign—it’s orange and some letters are missing.

  If only he could help her remember. Autumn? I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice, okay? Don’t worry about Ethan or your mama, don’t worry about anything, just try to relax and listen to me. Will you try?

  She nodded, then cocked her head to one side and obediently closed her eyes.

  Good girl. Now, get comfortable, that’s it, lean back against the wall put your hands on the floor, and pretend you’re floating in a swimming pool.

  Bless her, she did exactly what he said. He saw her small hands, palms up, on the cracked linoleum floor beside her. He watched her fingers uncurl.

  Autumn?

  Yes, Dillon.

  That’s really good. Now, you were eating your hamburger. In the car?

  Yes. Blessed went in and brought back bags of food. I was sitting in the front seat beside Blessed. Mama and Ethan were in the backseat. They were just sitting there, like they were dead, but they’re not—

  He saw her breathing hitch, saw her stiffen up. It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. Your mama and Ethan will get through this. That’s it, just don’t worry about anything right now, listen to my voice. That’s right, that’s good. You were eating, all right? Did you have mustard on your hamburger?

  No, Dillon, I like catsup, lots of catsup. I squeezed a whole bunch from those little plastic packets, more than Mama usually lets me have. I know it’s bad, but—

  A little more catsup is all right, your mama wouldn’t mind. Was your hamburger good?

  It was real good. Blessed was eating a hamburger too, and a bag of french fries, but he didn’t put catsup on them. All Mama and Ethan did was stare straight ahead and eat. I wanted to talk to Ethan and Mama, but when I turned around they didn’t even look at me.

  I know, sweetheart, I know. Now, Autumn, Blessed started up the car again, right? And he drove away from the highway.

  She nodded, never moving. Yes. He drove us down this little road, but just a little ways. Then he smiled, and he pulled into this bumpy parking lot and stopped the car by the office. He has a horrible smile, Dillon.

  I know. I’ve seen it. What kind of car are you in, Autumn? He held his breath, this was right out of the blue, he couldn’t really expect her to know, to even under—

  It’s a white van. He had Ethan steal it out of somebody’s driveway not long after we left Titus Hitch.

  Okay, you were sitting in the front seat in front of the motel. Did you see a sign?

  Yes.

  Describe it to me.

  It’s kinda old, a real ugly orange color, and the sign isn’t hanging exactly straight.

  Now, the name, look at the name. Can you read it?

  It’s two words, but I’ve never seen them before. I can’t read them.

  Picture it in your mind and show it to me.

  Where had that come from? And then he saw that orange sign, couldn’t believe it, but there it was, bright and clear right before his eyes. She was right, there were some letters missing.

  Liz rd’s Hidea ay.

  He’s coming, Dillon, he’s coming! He’s going to know and he’ll hill Mama—

  No, he won’t. Look up now, Autumn. That’s right. Everything is fine. Go wash your hands in the sink. Keep washing until he comes in and sees you. You went to the bathroom, okay? You’re fine, sweetheart. Go.

  53

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER when Savich and Sherlock walked to his Porsche, he heard his boy singing at the top of his lungs in an off-key duet with his grandmother. It was recognizable—Bobby Darrin’s “Beyond the Sea,” the closing song to one of Sean’s favorite movies, Finding Nemo. Even though he was hyped, nearly running, Savich turned back and smiled when he heard Felix’s baritone join in.

  His Porsche roared to life. He was backing into the street when Celine sang out “Nature Boy.”

  He said into his cell, “Savich here.”

  “Ollie here, Savich. Lizard’s Hideaway is in Tennessee, thirty miles from Chattanooga, right off Highway Seventy-five. What do you want to do?”

  Good question. “It’s too dangerous to send a fleet of local cops to the motel; they might end up shooting each other or Autumn. I think Blessed is driving home to Bricker’s Bowl.” Savich knew he was the best person to bring Blessed down.

  He said, “Ollie, how about you get some agents from the Chattanooga field office, have them follow Blessed but emphasize they’re not to be seen, and they’re not to try to take him down. Okay?”

  “You got it. Now about the car they’re in—”

  “A white van; I don’t know the license plate number.”

  Ollie was silent. “Okay, we’ll get the highway patrol involved When we identify the van, we’ll have agents follow them.”

  “Good. Call me as soon as they’re spotted. I want to know when they are all the time, okay?”

  “Not a problem.” Savich heard Ollie draw in a deep breath. He knew it was about Lissy and Victor, and he knew he wasn’t going to like what Ollie said.

  “I’ve got an update on Victor and Lissy. Dane called to tell me a resident living three blocks from Arlington National Cemetery phoned 911 about a hysterical neighbor boy who’d run over to her house shouting that his parents were bleeding all over the kitchen floor.

  “The dad will survive, but the mother is iffy, headed for surgery. Of course their car was gone, a red 2007 Chevy Cobalt. The little boy said the car is real pretty and shiny. His mother calls it Honeypot.” Ollie’s voice broke. “This shouldn’t have happened, dammit. We’re going to get them, Savich.”

  “Thank you, Ollie. At least we have the description and the license plate. Keep in touch.” And Savich punched off his cell and told Sherlock what had happened.

  “Honeypot,” she said, shaking her head. “Thank God that little boy isn’t going to be an orphan. Thank God Lissy didn’t try to murder him too. But his mother Dillon, I can’t stand it.”

  Savich thought it made more sense the child had been upstairs and Lissy simply hadn’t known he was there. He didn’t credit her with a crumb of conscience. He found himself praying for the mother to survive.

  He said, “Lissy and Victor aren’t going to give up, Sherlock.” His fist hit the steering wheel. “It’s my fault, that family is all my fault, no one else’s.” And he knew in that moment he had to make one of the most difficult decisions he’d ever have to make, but not right now. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

  Four hours later, Celine sang out “Nature Boy” again.

  Savich and Sherlock were in the CAU on the fifth floor at the Hoover Building. When Savich punched off, he said to Sherlock, “That was Agent Cully Gwyn. Lissy was spotted at a Kmart north of Winnett, Nor
th Carolina. He and Agent Bernie Benton are covering Victor’s apartment building in Winnett. He wants to know what I want him to do.”

  “You know what to do,” Sherlock said.

  And Savich made his decision.

  54

  WHEN ETHAN WOKE UP, for one terrifying moment he didn’t know who he was. He only knew he wasn’t where he had been, and he was now someplace different, someplace he didn’t recognize.

  Memory flooded back. He was Ethan Merriweather, and he’d been—away. He felt a spurt of fear, then forced himself to think, to remember. He had a rip-roaring headache, and it pounded so hard it was difficult to focus, but he did, and he remembered. He saw himself at the campsite in Titus Hitch Wilderness, remembered whirling about, bringing his Remington up fast to shoot Blessed but not fast enough. Blessed had gotten to him. How much time had passed? What had Blessed made him do? Something inside him didn’t want to know.

  He saw sunlight coming around the edges of the draperies. That meant it was daylight, but how late? He knew he’d slept and awakened back into himself. So what did that mean? Blessed couldn’t hold him beyond a certain number of hours? Sleeping broke the hypnosis, or whatever it was?

  Joanna and Autumn. They had to be all right if he was; surely he wouldn’t have hurt Joanna, but he could have. Blessed could have told him to do anything and he’d have done it as fast as he could and to the best of his ability. Even murder. It was in that moment he realized he was tied to a chair, his hands behind his back, nearly numb. He tested the knots. They were solid. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his head and studied the room.

  Cheap dresser, ugly brown draperies, threadbare and dirty, covering a set of skinny windows. The brown-painted door looked like a kid could shove it open. It smelled like air freshener. A motel. He was in a cheap motel. Where?