The Outsider (James Bishop 4)

by Dean, Jason

  Bishop got to his feet and they both went over to the front entrance. The road was still empty. He unlatched the door using his shirt cuff, set it to self-lock, and they both stepped outside. Bishop decided it was a little warmer than before, but not much.

  Their shoes made faint crunching noises on the hard gravel as they crossed the small parking lot. Strickland glanced at the pick-up and said, ‘Damn thing looks almost new too. The answer to our problems just sitting there, and we can’t use it.’

  ‘It’ll cause more problems than it’ll solve,’ Bishop said. ‘We’ve already got enough on our plate without the cops connecting us to another shootout.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess.’

  When they reached the road, Bishop looked both ways and saw nothing in either direction. They turned right and started walking along the grassy verge by the side of the road. Neither man said anything. There was no point.

  After about five minutes of walking, Bishop thought he heard the faint, distinctive sound of a vehicle approaching from behind them and turned to look. So did Strickland.

  About half a mile in the distance, Bishop could make out what looked like another SUV coming their way.

  Strickland said, ‘I hope this guy isn’t planning on an early breakfast or we’re in real trouble.’

  ‘Just look friendly and hope for the best.’

  Strickland put out his thumb while Bishop concentrated on the car. When it reached the turn-off for the diner it didn’t even slow, but just kept on coming, which was good. He could see it was moving at a fair clip.

  ‘Hey, maybe we’ll finally get lucky for once,’ Strickland said.

  Bishop said nothing. He was watching the SUV as it quickly closed the distance between them. He frowned. It actually looked like an Explorer. Not only that, but it was a dark colour, possibly brown.

  It couldn’t be. Could it?

  When it was only thirty yards away from them, the vehicle began to slow and Bishop was finally able to make out the Colorado plate. Unable to help himself, he smiled.

  ‘Hey,’ Strickland said from behind him, ‘wait a second, is that …?’

  The vehicle skidded to a complete halt right next to them, the engine still idling. Bishop opened the front passenger door and saw Clea looking back at him from the driver’s seat.

  ‘I have to say you’re about the last person I expected to see on this road,’ Bishop said. ‘I thought you’d be halfway back to Colorado by now.’

  Clea shrugged and said, ‘I changed my mind. Now do you want a ride or not?’

  FORTY-FIVE

  Strickland got in the back again while Bishop took the front passenger seat. Without another word, Clea got them moving and gradually took their speed up to sixty. Their car was still the only vehicle on the road, and Bishop watched as the flat Kansas farmland passed by them on both sides.

  ‘I’m real glad you came back, Clea,’ Bishop said. ‘We both are.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Strickland said. ‘Can’t tell you how much we appreciate this, especially after what we had to go through back at that diner.’

  ‘Why?’ Clea was frowning. ‘What happened back there?’

  Before Strickland said something they’d all regret, Bishop cut in with, ‘Toby threatened to call the cops when we couldn’t pay the check and I had to do some fast talking before he calmed down, that’s all. I ended up giving him my watch as payment instead.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Strickland said. ‘That’s all I meant.’

  ‘You mind if I ask you a question?’ Bishop asked, hoping to change the subject.

  ‘I came back because of Barney,’ Clea said.

  ‘I thought that might be it.’

  She shrugged. ‘The thing is, I’d been so focused on just escaping from you two and getting back to my own life that I completely forgot all about the possible consequences. For a while there I was just driving along and congratulating myself on how resourceful and daring I’d been in getting out of that restroom, then finding the spare key hidden under the rear wheel arch, when it started to hit me. Every time I visualized my little Lucy’s smiling face, I’d think about your friend’s son and what might happen to him if you two don’t make it to Ohio before your deadline. And I kept thinking of that story you told in the diner about that other boy, Andrew, and how … and what they did to him. I knew that if I let that happen again I’d never be able to look myself in the mirror without feeling guilty, so I came back.’

  ‘Thanks, Clea,’ Strickland said. ‘That means a lot to me. It really does.’

  ‘I’m just glad I can stop pointing a gun at you,’ Bishop said. ‘Believe me, it’s not my favourite thing.’

  ‘Think how I felt,’ she said. ‘Although this does kind of make me an accessory if we do get stopped by the police.’

  Bishop shook his head. ‘We won’t. And if the worst does happen we’ll tell them we forced you to come along at gunpoint.’

  After a minute or so of silence, Clea said, ‘So where am I going?’

  ‘Just continue on this road for now,’ Bishop said. ‘If my memory serves me well, according to the map we’ve got the city of Wellington about twenty or thirty miles up ahead. How are we for gas, by the way?’

  She looked at the odometer. ‘Less than a quarter-tank left.’

  ‘Okay. We’ll skirt around the edges of Wellington and see if we can gas up somewhere. Look, I hate to bring it up, Clea …’

  ‘If you’re going to ask me how much cash I’ve got left,’ she said, ‘the answer is twenty dollars and some change. I can probably get some more from an ATM, but—’

  ‘No ATMs,’ Bishop said, ‘and no credit cards, either. We don’t know how much the feds know by now, but we have to assume the worst. Which means no paper trail.’

  ‘So where does that leave us?’ Strickland asked. ‘We can’t drive on fumes. Unless you’re planning on stealing us another ride.’

  ‘That’s out too,’ Bishop said. ‘Stealing vehicles is simply another pattern we have to avoid. No, we’ll just have to think of something else.’

  Bishop stared out the windshield and rubbed his palm back and forth over his scalp as he tried to think of an alternative. He knew there had to be one. There always was. Like everything, the conundrum was simple enough when reduced down to its essential basics. To continue their journey they’d soon need gas, and for that they needed far more than the twenty dollars Clea had left. Which meant taking the required money from somebody else. And the best people to steal from were those who’d gotten it through illicit means themselves. Like street dealers, for example. But that meant heading into a large city, which would be counterproductive at best. And at worst? Well, how long was a piece of rope?

  Strickland cut into his thoughts by saying, ‘How far are we from Tulsa, Oklahoma?’

  Bishop thought for a moment. ‘It’s about a hundred miles south-east of us, I think. As the crow flies. Why?’

  ‘Because if it’s cash we need, I’ve got some stashed there.’

  FORTY-SIX

  Bishop turned to look at Strickland. He didn’t need to ask if the guy was being serious. They were long past all that.

  ‘How much are we talking about?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘Just over fifty grand in small, unmarked bills. It was supposed to be my emergency fund and I meant to keep adding more to it, but I just never got around to it. But I’d say this sure qualifies as an emergency.’

  Frowning, Bishop faced front again and checked the dashboard clock: 06.48. Less than twenty-four hours to go, with over eight hundred miles still to cover. But it was definitely doable, even if they took into account another small detour along the way. Besides, they didn’t have any other choice. He pulled out the Kansas map again from the glove compartment.

  Unfolding it, he saw it also covered only the top part of Oklahoma, to the south of them. But he was able to see that the I-35 was the main route south, with US 81 running almost parallel until it morphed into US 177 at South Haven. Since the
y wanted to avoid the interstate at all costs, and since US 81 was closest to their current position, that was clearly the way to go. At least to start with, until they got onto the back roads.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ Clea asked.

  Bishop looked out front and saw a turn-off for Caldwell Road coming up. Then he looked down at the map again until he found it. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘In about two miles we’ll take a right turn and keep on that for about a mile. At the end we’ll turn left and stay on that until it joins up with US 81. I’ll give you further directions once we’re on that, okay?’

  She nodded. ‘As long as I know ahead of time.’

  He turned back to Strickland. ‘So where are we going, exactly?’

  ‘To an apartment complex in West Tulsa, north of the Arkansas River, just a few miles south of the Sand Springs Expressway.’

  ‘And whose apartment is it?’

  Strickland shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable. ‘It, uh … belongs to an old friend of mine from high school, name of Nicky.’

  ‘You kept in touch with an old school pal over all these years?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s no big deal. He’s an okay guy, Bishop. Plus he was always willing to listen to me pour out my troubles whenever I was feeling down, back before I met Carrie. And also I’d sometimes come and, you know, help him out whenever he got in trouble.’

  ‘What, money trouble?’

  ‘No, the physical kind, usually. He’s, uh … well, he’s gay.’

  Bishop shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘So nothing, I guess.’ Strickland gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’s just I never talked about him to anybody before, not even Carrie. I guess I’ve always been a little embarrassed about him, especially as he’s one of those real blatantly gay guys, know what I mean? Sure doesn’t help that he tends to go for the rough trade either. But at school I always felt protective about him for some reason, and it seemed like I was always helping him out of one scrape or another. And then after school we just stayed in touch, that’s all.’ He shrugged. ‘Like I said, no big deal.’

  Bishop looked at him. ‘You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? So this Nicky is just holding all this money for you?’

  ‘Oh, no way, he doesn’t even know it’s there. If he did, believe me, that money’d be gone in seconds. No, he’s a flight steward with Delta, see, or he was last time I talked to him, and one time when he was out of the country I used my spare key and hollowed out a space under the floor of one of the bedroom cupboards and hid some cash down there in a knapsack. Just in case I ever needed to make a quick getaway, you know? I actually planned on adding to it over time, but then I met Carrie and all my priorities changed and I just left it there. And then after I got married Nicky and me just kind of naturally drifted apart, like people do.’

  Bishop nodded. ‘Who else knows about your connection to him since high school?’

  ‘Nobody. Like I said, I never talked about him to anybody. Not even Carrie.’

  ‘And when was the last time you and he spoke?’

  ‘I dunno. Maybe five or six years ago. I’m not sure.’

  ‘You realize he could have moved since then.’

  ‘Anything’s possible, I guess, but he once told me he really felt at home in that place of his, so I think he’s probably still there.’

  ‘What are the chances he’ll be at home today?’

  ‘Well, he’s usually away for long periods so the odds are good that the apartment’ll be empty, but I’ll phone beforehand to make sure. And getting in won’t be a problem. I kept a spare key hidden nearby in case I ever needed to lay low for a while.’

  Bishop thought it over. He wasn’t entirely sure about this. This Nicky didn’t exactly sound like the introverted type, so there was no telling how many people he’d told about their friendship. But on the other hand Bishop couldn’t ignore the fact that this was the only sure way out of the bind they were in. They needed cash. And they needed it soon.

  ‘Well, since it’s the only option we’ve got right now,’ Bishop said, ‘let’s head on over and check it out.’

  FORTY-SEVEN

  ‘See that intersection up ahead?’ Strickland was pointing as he leaned forward between the front seats. ‘Take a left and then you’ll see the Lakewood Apartment complex on the left-hand side. You can’t miss it. It’s the only thing there.’

  The dashboard clock said it was 08.12. They’d kept to the back roads mostly, keeping to a steady seventy-five for much of the journey, and had made good time. And they hadn’t seen a single roadblock either, which was even better. But that was probably because they were heading away from Ohio, rather than towards it.

  Clea slowed at the intersection in question, waited for a car to pass by, then took the left turn into a heavily tree-lined street. It was actually a cul-de-sac that came to a natural stop fifty feet ahead. There were no houses, but Bishop could make out some kind of large building behind the trees on the left, with an entranceway further down. Clea slowed, turned into it and Bishop saw a large tasteful sign on the right telling them they’d reached the Lakewood Apartments.

  Directly ahead of them was a parking lot with spaces for about a hundred vehicles. It was currently less than a quarter full. The building itself was a long, intricate-looking, two-storey adobe building, with a terrace outside every second-floor window, although some terraces were larger than others. There was plenty of tree cover all around. To Bishop, it all looked very upscale and expensive. It was probably even nicer at the back. In the centre of the building was an open area that looked to be the main front entrance.

  ‘Residents just park where they want?’ he asked.

  ‘Uh-uh,’ Strickland said. ‘They get given numbered spaces. We’ll want to take a look at forty-three. It’s to the left of the entrance over there, Clea.’

  With a nod, she steered them in that direction, then turned into the aisle closest to the main building and drove down it slowly.

  Bishop looked out his side and saw each space contained a number spray-painted in the centre. They passed a vacant bay thirty-nine and Bishop saw a shiny black Infiniti was parked in bay forty. A grey panel van bearing the logo of a landscaping business took up bay forty-four. The three spaces in between were all vacant. Clea stopped the vehicle just before forty-three, but left the engine running.

  ‘Well, it looks like he’s out,’ Strickland said.

  ‘Let’s make sure,’ Bishop said, ‘Call his landline.’

  Strickland pulled out his cell phone and keyed in four numbers. Then he thought for a moment before keying in five more. He raised the phone to his ear.

  While he waited, Bishop remembered the cell phone he’d taken from Clea yesterday. Deciding there was no reason to hold onto it any longer, he pulled the phone from his pants pocket and handed it back to her.

  ‘I’d forgotten all about this,’ she said. ‘Sure you can trust me with it?’

  ‘Let’s say I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘Thanks. I think.’

  They waited another minute until Strickland hung up and said, ‘Nobody home. You can park up.’

  Clea steered the Explorer into forty-three’s space and killed the engine. ‘Do you need me to come in with you?’

  Bishop shook his head. ‘It’s not necessary. You can wait here if you want.’

  She thought for a moment, then said, ‘No, I’ll come in with you. I could really do with a drink of water. I’m parched.’

  At the main entrance they were greeted by a set of tinted glass doors. Strickland went over and keyed in a six-digit code on the security keypad affixed to the wall. There was an electronic click and then he pulled one of the doors open and they all went inside.

  The lobby was a long, narrow, tiled area with a row of mailboxes on one side and a large noticeboard and a few community posters on the wall opposite. It looked spotless. The whole place smelled pleasantly of floor polish and carpet cleaner. There was an open stairwell on the rig
ht, and Bishop could make out a fire exit at the end. Halfway down, there were hallways leading off from the left and right.

  ‘Where do you keep this spare key?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘In the laundry room.’ Strickland said. ‘It’s this way.’

  He led them to the left-hand corridor and entered the first opening on the right. Bishop paused to study the hallway beyond. It was well lit and stretched off into the distance with numerous apartments on each side. Bishop turned the other way and saw the hallway opposite was identical. There was nobody else around. He followed Strickland into the laundry room, a long, narrow, tiled room with a long concrete bench running down the centre. It was also empty of people. There were two rows of heavy-duty washing machines running along the left-hand wall. Running along the opposite wall were a dozen dryers.

  Strickland pulled out Barney’s multi-tool and extracted the flat-edge screwdriver. Then he walked over to the fifth dryer down, reached down to the back of the machine and began working on something there. A minute later he came back holding a key.

  ‘As advertised,’ he said. ‘The apartment we want is this way.’

  Strickland led the way out of the laundry room and turned right. The three of them carried on down the hallway, passing a number of heavy oak doors, each one identified by a silver embossed number. Up ahead an overweight, grey-haired businessman with a briefcase exited an apartment on the left and began walking quickly towards them, as though late for a meeting. He nodded amiably as he rushed past and Bishop absently nodded back, watching him until he disappeared round the corner. Finally, Strickland stopped outside number twenty-two on the right-hand side. He inserted the key into the lock and paused for a moment.

  ‘Something wrong?’ Bishop asked.

  Strickland shook his head, opened the door and stepped inside.

  Bishop and Clea followed, entering a short hallway with two closed doors on the left, two on the right, and one more at the end. The one at the end was partly ajar, and Bishop could see part of what seemed to be the living room beyond. It was hard to tell because the drapes were drawn. Bishop gently closed the front door behind them and frowned when he sniffed the air. ‘I smell stale food,’ he said.