*
The sun beat down on me as I walked along the wooden pier to the end cabin. I let myself in through the whitewashed gate and stepped up to the cabin. The pale-blue shutters were open, giving me a clear view inside through the half-glass frontage. The living space looked as neat as before, but things had been moved since I’d last been there; the plate by the sink was gone, as was the half-drunk bottle of red wine that’d been sitting on the counter. The place now looked empty, unused.
I turned to go, then stopped. When I’d followed Mia here a few days previously she’d put a note in the mailbox asking: Where are you? My money was on that note being for Gibson.
Turning back, I strode to the mailbox and opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper. I pulled it out, unfolded it and read the loopy scrawl.
Almost done. Be ready.
38
I was still thinking on the note as I arrived back at McGregor’s bond shop. The writing had been Gibson Fletcher’s for sure, but Mia had told me that the day after I’d followed her there he’d run off to Mexico without her.
He’d lied to her or she’d lied to me. Either way, someone wasn’t telling the truth.
The bond shop was closed. I tried the door but it was locked. Wondering why McGregor had shut the place up early, I banged on the door.
I heard raised voices inside. Then the bolts disengaged and the door was flung open. Jorge stood there, serious-faced and unsmiling. ‘You’d better come inside.’
Compared to the heat of the sun, the bond shop felt like an icebox, and not just because of the air-con. McGregor was waiting for me, his expression like thunder. I’d taken five paces into the room when he started yelling. ‘Where the fuck have you been? And why haven’t you been answering your cell?’
I glared at him. I was still pissed from our argument, and was made more pissed by his shouting. ‘I’ve been following up a lead. And I don’t answer to you.’
He cussed. Slammed his hand down onto a filing cabinet. ‘Four-Fingers was calling you. You never picked up.’
I glared at McGregor. ‘Like I said, I was busy.’
‘This morning Rosas and Ortiz had another sighting of Fletcher over the border. They needed assistance.’
Damn. Now I felt bad for not answering; I should have been on that job. ‘Was it Fletcher? Did you get him?’
McGregor shook his head. ‘I don’t know if it was him. Jorge and me were on another job. Four-Fingers was the only one here. He tried to reach you, but you never picked up so he went in alone.’
I glanced around the office; it was empty aside from McGregor and Jorge. I felt fear ripple through me. ‘Where’s Bobby?’
‘He called me from the road, left a voicemail. Fletcher had been spotted close to the border, but Rosas and Ortiz got held up on route so Four-Fingers went in solo.’
Shit. ‘What happened?’
McGregor looked at me with disgust. Shook his head. ‘You don’t deserve to know.’
My mouth went dry. ‘Tell me, please.’
McGregor looked away. Cussed under his breath.
‘We don’t know for sure,’ Jorge said. ‘But Rosas and Ortiz arrived to find Four-Fingers bleeding. No sign of Fletcher. Looks like it was a set-up, more than one man waiting on us to show.’
‘He’s in the hospital. Out of action for days – weeks most likely. Busted ribs, internal bleeding, face a mess,’ McGregor spat. He stepped towards me, his hands all up in my face. ‘It’s your fault. You should have been there, should have had his six. You put him in the hospital.’
The blood rushed to my cheeks. ‘If I’d answered his call I—’
‘You didn’t think. You didn’t answer.’
I stayed silent. I was in the wrong and I knew it. Bobby had been hurt because I’d been too pissed at him to pick up when he called. I hadn’t helped him when he needed me. I’d let him down.
McGregor looked at me like I was dirt. ‘You’re a prima donna – a selfish bitch who’s only interested in what’s in anything for her. I’m sick of you.’
‘I just want to find Gibson. I never meant to—’
McGregor put his face close to mine. His breath was hot against my skin. The fury in his glare burned into me. ‘You did this. You got one of my best men half killed. I can’t have it. I can’t lose another team member. You’re a liability, a danger to my team, and I won’t tolerate it any longer.’
‘But we need to catch—’
‘I’ll find Fletcher and bring him in, but not with you.’ McGregor pointed to the workstation I’d been using. ‘Get your shit together and get out of here. I’m telling Monroe you’re benched.’
*
The panic had me in its grip and I couldn’t wrestle free. When McGregor called Monroe he’d demand I was taken off the job. Given the situation with Bobby, I figured Monroe would agree. But I couldn’t let that happen. I had to find a new lead, catch a break and get us closer to Gibson. I had to prove to Monroe he still needed me.
I returned to the hotel. Needed to go through everything to do with this job. Made a strong coffee, and went back to the beginning.
Two things seemed to have been pulling Gibson Fletcher to San Diego. One was Mia Searle, and the other was the package at Southside Storage. If I could confirm what had been in the package, maybe I could find out who helped Gibson with his escape, and that would help me crack this.
I pulled out the documents that Clint Norsen had photostatted for me and spread them out on the bed. I double-checked the signature on the sender’s docket, and compared it to the prison visitors’ log signature; as I already knew, they were a definite match. Other than that, at face value, everything looked normal. But there were a few stand-out things for me. First was, why had the person masquerading as Donald sent a package to Gibson in a city he didn’t live? Second was, why had the sender left the package at Southside Storage after Gibson had been sentenced and put in jail. They could have had the package returned to sender, so why hadn’t they? Was the jailbreak planned even then? My third question concerned the contents of the package.
Monroe had led me to believe the package most likely contained the stolen gold chess set that Gibson had taken before the double homicide. The shipping documentation told me different.
The weight of the package was recorded as 69.3 grams. Grabbing my cell, I Googled the chess set. Wikipedia listed its worth when last valued at 1,345,000 dollars. The weight of the set was recorded at just over 2,000 grams.
I looked back at the documentation. The weight was clearly written – 69.3 grams on the sender’s docket, and 69.3 grams on the collection slip. Whatever was inside the package, one thing was for sure; it wasn’t the gold chess set.
I called Monroe. ‘I’ve been going over the package documentation from Southside Storage again. The package weighed just under seventy grams, it wasn’t heavy enough to be the chess set.’
‘Your main priority is finding Fletcher.’ Monroe’s voice was hushed, like he was trying not to be overheard. In the background, I could hear phones ringing and conversations. I wondered if he was in the FBI offices. ‘Once we’ve got him I can question him about the chess pieces.’
I frowned. At the start of this Monroe seemed real keen on getting the chess set back. ‘I thought this was one of the reasons you wanted Fletcher found on your terms?’
‘Yes, obviously.’ He sounded irritated. ‘But catching Fletcher is the priority. He’s been on the loose too long, Lori. My bosses are questioning if we’ll get him back.’
‘I’ll find him.’
‘Just be sure that you do. And fast.’
He didn’t mention McGregor having called him, so I didn’t bring it up. Instead I said, ‘Any word on that CCTV from the jail? I could really use a break about—’
‘I’ve asked, but nothing yet.’ He sounded frustrated. ‘I’ll tell you if I get it.’
He hung up before I could reply.
I put the burner back in my purse. Thought it weird Monroe wasn’t pushi
ng harder for the CCTV and that he hadn’t been more surprised that the package couldn’t have contained the chess set. Was he deliberately hiding things from me, or was this just more of his need-to-know bullshit? Whatever was behind it, I didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark. It was only a matter of time before McGregor called Monroe and tried to get me taken off the job. If I didn’t have a solid lead by then everything would have been for nothing.
I couldn’t let that happen.
39
It was late, and much as I hated to admit it, I just needed to hear his voice.
The infirmary nurse was different from the one that’d spoken to me the night before and was a whole lot more resistant to letting me speak with JT. But after I’d held for what seemed like forever for them to check the authorisation from Monroe, they finally gave JT the phone.
Would he talk to me? Would the trauma of the cardiac arrest have changed him somehow? Nervous energy fizzed through me as I said, ‘How are you doing?’
‘I’ve been better.’ His voice sounded fragile, his breathing heavier than usual, but he was able to talk and that counted for a lot. ‘You still in California?’
‘Yeah. We’ve had a few false sightings of the fugitive but nothing concrete.’ I decided not to mention Gibson threatening me, the problems with McGregor, and the problems me and Red had had in Florida. ‘I’ve got a few leads though.’
‘Go home. Be with Dakota. Don’t put yourself in danger.’
‘I want to get you safe.’ I needed to tell him about Dakota; about the cancer that could return, and the donor she might need; about how he was her best hope. ‘Dakota needs you, she—’
‘Not on the phone … another time…’
I would tell him, surely I would. ‘I owe you.’
He exhaled hard. ‘You don’t owe me a damn thing, kiddo. I’m in here so you can walk away.’
‘And if I don’t want to?’
He said nothing. All I could hear was his laboured breathing and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. It felt like his silence would snap my heart clean in two.
‘Lori?’ he said at last.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re strong. You don’t need me.’
‘I know.’ My lip trembled, and I was glad that he couldn’t see it. I was a survivor, I could get through anything, but sometimes I wished I didn’t always have to be so damn strong. ‘But I’d still like you to be with us.’
He sighed. A few beats passed before he said, ‘I’d like that, too.’
His words jolted me hard. Him saying he wanted to be with us – I’d not expected that. I’d gotten so used to him never expressing how he felt, it was a shock now he had. I didn’t speak. Wondered what he meant … if he really meant it.
‘You’d—’
‘But, the thing is, if you’re with me you’d never be safe. That price on my head means they won’t stop until I’m—’
‘That’s why I have to get you out of there. I need this job, because I need Monroe to deliver his end of the deal.’ If there was a chance we could be together, I had to make it happen. I didn’t know if me, Dakota and JT could work as a family, but I sure wanted to give it a try. ‘I’m not asking for your permission.’
I could hear the smile in his words as he said, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to.’
‘Good.’
He lowered his voice. ‘But what got set in motion all those years back, when your husband disappeared, is still in play here. They won’t rest until the debt is squared. I have to find a way to do that.’
‘You shouldn’t have to. I killed him, I should be the one taking the blame.’
‘No.’ His voice was stronger, firmer.
‘Then we’ll find a way to square it together.’
‘There are a lot of men loyal to the Old Man in here. They’ll come for me again.’
I nodded. Gripped my cell phone tighter. Knew that as long as JT was in jail he’d be in danger; a fish in a barrel – no way to escape. And in his weakened state he was even more vulnerable.
‘I’ll get you out.’ My voice broke as I spoke the words. ‘I won’t let you down.’
I couldn’t lose him.
40
I woke with the package left at Southside Storage on my mind. The mystery around it made it important, even if it didn’t contain the stolen chess pieces. Intuition told me that if I could find out more about the package I’d be able to work out what was really going on here. My only lead was Clint Norsen. I gave him a call.
*
Clint was having a family day. We met at a park a little ways from one of the beaches – a bright spot filled with kids and laughter. Joni Mae was in her stroller, cute as a button in a yellow sundress and tiny white sneakers; she couldn’t have been more than a year old. Clint made faces at her and she giggled happily; he was a natural. It made me curious as to where her mom was and how he’d ended up as sole parent, but I said nothing. Didn’t feel it was my business to pry.
We settled on a bench overlooking the swings. Clint turned to me. ‘You said you’d got a few more questions?’
I nodded. ‘I’ve been going over the documents you gave me. It’s important I know what was in the package, but aside from the contents description of a board game there’s no indication. Given it was the size of a shoebox I’d expected it to weigh more. I wondered if there’s any way you can find out the specifics of what was inside?’
Clint frowned. ‘I don’t see how. The package is gone.’
‘How about when it was sent? I know you said Southside Storage wasn’t fully digitalised back then, but the courier company might have been. Did they scan packages before airfreighting them?’
‘I don’t know.’ Clint rocked the stroller back and forth. Joni Mae’s eyes were already beginning to close. ‘I’m guessing they would for security, but it was over two years ago. I doubt they’d have kept the scans.’
It was a long shot for sure. ‘Any way you could check?’
He didn’t answer. Looked real thoughtful.
‘It’s important.’
‘I could, but it’d sound weird. If I ask a thing like that they’re going to want to know why. What do I say? I can’t admit I’m working for the FBI, but if I say it’s for Southside Storage they’d only need to make one call to know I’m lying. I could get fired.’
I nodded. It was a risk for him. ‘I get that, but this is important. The risk – that’s what the FBI pays you for.’
Clint sighed. ‘I knew I should never have signed up for this. Joni’s mom told me I was being a fool.’
‘So why did you?’
He exhaled hard. ‘I’m a patriot, you know? I’ve never been all that great at books and figures, but I’m practical and hard-working, and I didn’t want to just be the guy with a job at a storage depot. I wanted to be of service, to make a difference…’
‘And Monroe offered that?’
‘I thought so, yeah.’
‘When was this?’
‘About two and a half years ago – late February I think.’
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. Late February was a couple of weeks before the package was sent. ‘Did you already have the job at Southside Storage then?’
‘I’d just got it. They’d taken me on as casual labour over the holiday period, to cope with the additional volume, then they offered me a permanent contract.’ He shook his head. ‘It was only meant to be a stopgap. I’d been planning to go to technical college the next fall.’
‘But Monroe told you to say put?’
Clint nodded. ‘Yeah. He said to sit tight for a while – that I was needed at the depot for a little longer. He promised me a proper job at the Bureau further down the line. Said I was paying my dues and it’d help my career in the future.’
I glanced at the swingboats. Two little girls were moving in tandem, shrieking as they got higher and higher. I remembered when Dakota was that age. How brave she’d been, always swinging higher, climbing faster and scooting
the carousel around quicker than the other kids. She was fearless, just like her father. I wondered if that boldness was inherited, in her DNA.
I looked back at Clint. ‘Sometimes things are worth the wait.’
‘Sure. Sometimes.’ I heard regret in his voice. Saw guilt in his expression.
‘So what did Joni’s mom think about you staying at Southside Storage?’
‘Not so much. She wanted me to go to college. That was our plan; we’d both go the next fall. When she got pregnant things changed for her, but she still wanted me to go. Said I needed to get a proper education so I could get a good job. She wanted the best for our baby.’
Sound advice, but with Clint remaining at Southside Storage it seemed things hadn’t happened that way. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, where is she now?’
He looked at Joni Mae, sleeping in the stroller. Blinked hard. ‘Dead.’
I’d not been expecting that. I’d figured she’d cut and run after the baby was born, that the strain of motherhood had been too much. Clint was still virtually a kid himself, yet he’d been through a lot. I put my hand on his shoulder. He felt bony beneath my grip. ‘I’m sorry.’
Clint nodded. Didn’t speak.
‘It’s hard losing someone you love, I know.’
He inhaled sharply. ‘It was a hit and run. We’d run out of diapers; she’d gone out to fetch some. I said I’d go, but she wanted some air … Joni was barely two months old. It was late and the car was going too fast. It mounted the pavement. Mowed her down from behind … Eyewitnesses said she didn’t stand a chance.’
I didn’t know what to say. Having someone taken from you that way – sudden, brutal – changed everything in an instant. I said the only words I could think of even though they seemed too small, not nearly enough. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He nodded.
We sat in silence a few moments. Joni Mae dozed in her stroller. Tight in her little fists she clutched a fluffy green rabbit with one eye missing. Clint watched her. From his blotchy complexion and watery eyes I knew he was fighting back memories and emotion. I stayed quiet. Waited for him to get back his composure.
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