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The Final Kill

Page 26

by Meg O'Brien

“Why is it your fault Jancy’s here?” Gerry said. “Well, when I grabbed Danny, it was to keep Kris under control. Of course, she’s ruined all that now. Kidnapped him, right out from under the noses of my so-called security experts.”

  Gerry shook his head. “That woman is something else. I’d almost applaud her, except that once Danny was gone, I needed a stand-in, of course. And who else but tough, impervious-to-everything little Jancy?”

  “A stand-in,” Abby said, feeling chilled and loathing him more with every word. She had the feeling she was talking with a madman. “Why a stand-in, Gerry?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? The only thing that’ll stop the feds in their tracks is the safety of a child. And I needed them far, far away in order to bring my plan off.”

  Abby shook her head. “I don’t get it, Gerry. You’ve put your own son and daughter in danger. They’re going to hate you. And for what? Why are you doing this? It goes against everything you always believed in.”

  A shrug. “I was a kid back then, Abby. A foolish, know-nothing kid. I didn’t realize that power’s the only thing that really matters in this world. And when I finally did realize it, I set up a secret organization, thinking we could make the world a better place.” He frowned. “My one screwup. Turns out the people I’ve been working with are a bunch of kindergartners. They aren’t willing to go the extra mile.”

  “The extra mile. Is this so-called terrorist attack ‘going the extra mile’?”

  “So-called?” he said sharply.

  “Because you’re behind it, not The Candlelights. They’re just going to take the fall, right?”

  He smiled. “Again, I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “You know, Gerry, I thought you were, too. You’ve worked all your life to get into a position of power, and now you’re going to destroy half the country, maybe the world. You’re not going to leave much to have power over—

  “Oh, my God.” She stopped short, completely stunned. When she could speak again, she continued. “You wouldn’t do that. Of course you wouldn’t do that! But I used the right word, didn’t I? It’s a so-called attack. A hoax, to terrify the country. There never were any terrorists. At least, not anyone important.”

  “Hell, no, it’s not a hoax, Abby! Not in the sense you mean. When the morning papers come out, and when people tune in to CNN and Fox, the entire country will learn that an Armageddon bomb is set to go off in the U.S. today. Worse, they’ll learn that no one knows where or when. There will be chaos—people wanting to run from it but not knowing where to go, whether it’s in their town or the one they’re heading for. They’ll hear that there’s no escape, so they’ll be paralyzed with fear. That’s better than any paralysis caused by a chemical.”

  Gerry’s face lit up, as if he’d found the Holy Grail and couldn’t wait to tell the world. “Remember the hurricanes in New Orleans and Florida? Remember the gridlocks on the freeways? That happened here, too, Abby, in Galveston and Houston. People trying to get out of the storm’s way, running out of gas, food, water, and having to sit in boiling-hot cars for hours. You think they aren’t scared to death that’ll happen again? Watch, Abby. Next time they won’t even evacuate. They’ll be too damned afraid.”

  His voice rose as his excitement grew. “Dirty bombs are already obsolete, Abby—at least as a threat. The chaos and fear—the belief that a dirty bomb is about to strike—is all we need anymore to control people. And before this day is over, the powers that be will know what real power is. What’s more, they’ll know that I’ve got it. I sent the warnings out. I was the ‘credible intel.’”

  “But, Gerry, if you’ve already got enough power to do that—”

  “One can never have enough power, Abby. Never. And you know when I’ll have it? At the end of the day, when I’ve saved the whole damned country from the worst holocaust imaginable.”

  “That’s it, then? You’re going to ‘save the country’ single-handedly? Brilliant, Gerry. You’ll have some kind of story, of course, about stopping The Candlelights and destroying the ‘Armageddon’ bomb. And all the while, the real Candlelights don’t even know why the hell they’re being rounded up and arrested, I suppose.”

  “Congratulations, Abby!” he said, giving a mock tip of an invisible hat. “Finally, that brain of yours comes alive.”

  “Okay, then, why The Candlelights?” she asked. “Why not al-Qaeda?”

  “Because The Candlelights were the one group I could tie to my dear wife’s father, Pat Devlin,” he said. “Master bomb maker. Give the feds something credible to chew on while I went about my business.”

  “And you chose a dirty bomb because…”

  “Shock and awe, Abby. Shock and awe. What is the American public most afraid of since 9/11?”

  “Terrorists?”

  “You got it.”

  “So, how far back does this scam of yours go? To when this woman Linda first talked to the Devlins and threatened Allie and Jancy’s lives? Was she working for you?”

  He smiled. “You’d be surprised, Abby. Everybody works for me. Everybody.”

  “Not me,” she said.

  His voice grew hard. “Which is why I need you to give me that gun.”

  He took two more steps and reached for the Glock. Abby brought it cracking down on his wrist, then swiveled to the side. With her left hand she made a chopping motion, connecting with his neck, while her left foot swung up and got him in the groin. He bent over, groaning, and fell to the floor.

  “Geez, Gerry, you disappoint me,” Abby said, stepping back a few paces. “A man with all that power, and you couldn’t even stop a little thing like me from taking you down.”

  She swung the Glock in the direction of the two men, who were both halfway out of their chairs. “No way,” she said. “Don’t even breathe.”

  There was a closet under the stairs to the second floor, and she crossed over to it and looked inside. Except for a few old rolls of faded wallpaper, it was empty.

  “Get over here,” she ordered. “All three of you. Move it!”

  Hardy and his pal scrambled to obey, and she heard Hardy whisper to the other guy something about “Wonder Woman.”

  She almost laughed. Clearly, none of these men were familiar with martial arts, and thank God for that; it gave her an edge.

  Gerry glared at her, struggling to his feet. She didn’t trust him for a second, and she kept the Glock leveled at him as she hustled him into the closet after the other two, telling them to move to the back and sit on the floor. The closet was even more musty smelling than the room, and there was black mold on the walls. She held her breath to keep from inhaling it, but felt a sense of satisfaction for putting these lowlifes where they belonged.

  Next, she slid both heavy armchairs across the wooden floor and pushed them against the door, since there was no lock. She would need something to keep them from just sliding back, though, when the men tried to get out. There was a ratty old gray rug, about nine by twelve, in the middle of the room. She rolled it up with its rubber pad on the outside, and pushed it against the chairs, hoping the rubber would stick to the wooden floor and keep them from sliding. Then she piled everything heavy she could find in the room on top of the chairs—irons from the fireplace, a rusted metal doorstop in the shape of a cat and the few pieces of smaller furniture that were scattered around helter-skelter.

  Satisfied that the men were safely locked in the closet, at least for the time it would take them to push all that stuff out of the way, she went into the back room where she’d seen Jimmy and Jancy.

  They were gone.

  34

  The ropes they’d been tied with hung loosely over the chairs, and pieces of duct tape lay on the floor.

  By the way, my partner came in the back way, Gerry had said. If you shoot me, he’ll have to kill them.

  She’d thought Gerry was bluffing. Stupid! Stupid, stupid!

  Is that why he’d taken them, to kill them? Dear God, no.

  Where the hell were J
oey and the local law? She couldn’t just leave to look for Jimmy and Jancy, with the three men so poorly contained, but she couldn’t just sit here, either, waiting for help to arrive.

  She went through the kitchen and, leaving the lights off, opened the back door. Standing there, she saw nothing but darkness—dark sky, dark marshlands—and the little line of white rocks around the yard. She began to call out softly for Jimmy, then Jancy. When they didn’t answer, she raised her voice—loathe to do it, because if they answered her louder call, it could mean they were not in the inner circle, but out in the swamps.

  No one answered, though. The only thing to break the silence was the amazingly loud chirping of crickets. Or were they cicadas down here? And what was the difference? She didn’t know, but they were so loud, her imagination ran wild about how big they must be. Big enough to tie down a five-foot-four woman and chomp her to death?

  Focus, Abby. She felt on the edge of losing it. No food, no sleep and now no Jancy or Jimmy. The whole thing was a nightmare.

  She put the Glock back in her belt and pulled out the cell phone. As she dialed Joey, she breathed a prayer that he’d answer in person this time. She needed that contact, some steadying influence.

  But no, it was still his voice mail. And she hated how shaky and vulnerable her own voice sounded.

  “Joey, where are you? I’m still at the Mathers Road house, and I’ve got three guys locked up in a very flimsy closet. Jimmy and Jancy have disappeared, and I’ve got to go find them.”

  What else? “Gerry Gerard, Alicia Gerard’s husband, is one of the guys locked in the closet. It seems the doomsday bomb was a hoax to scare the American public. It was all a scam cooked up by Gerry, so he could “find” the bomb and “save the world.”

  She paused again. She should be telling Kris all this, or Lessing, or Ben. But who knew when she’d be able to reach them? When she finished this call, she’d try Kris.

  “Let’s see…the bioweapons,” she went on. “I’ve got the package that’s supposed to hold them right here, but Alicia told me her parents had faked them, so they shouldn’t be dangerous. The one bright spot in all this is that Gerard doesn’t seem to know they’re fake. I can’t wait to see what happens when he—and the rest of the world—finds out he’s not a hero.”

  A beep sounded and her message was cut off.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  She almost fell out the door as a voice behind her in the kitchen said, “If that’s me you’re calling names, I’m right here.”

  She swung around, her hand on the gun, the other arm already in attack mode.

  “Jimmy!” Her hand came off the gun and her arm went around his neck instead. He lifted her into a hug, and she’d never been so glad to have someone’s arms around her.

  “Thank God you’re safe!” she said against his neck. “I was just imagining you out there in the swamp, being eaten by crocodiles.”

  She looked around and behind him. “Where’s Jancy?”

  He put her down. “I just got the Master Manipulator to a safe place, down the highway. Left her with a nice waitress named Millie who’s hiding her in the back of her diner, and who promised to stuff her with pancakes and applesauce.”

  “Applesauce?”

  “Her favorite food. Didn’t you know?”

  “No. Just how did you find that out?”

  “She told me.”

  “She actually talked to you? Civilly?”

  “Sure. She likes me. In fact, she likes me and you. Together.”

  “What? The kid is matchmaking now?”

  He grinned. “You sound disapproving. Is that because she’s matchmaking, or because of that particular match?”

  Abby frowned. “You know what? My head is swimming. I could use some pancakes and applesauce myself.”

  “I recognize that you’re changing the subject,” he said, “but I’m not in the least offended. So let’s go. To Millie’s, it is.”

  “Hold on a minute there,” she said. “I’ve got a maniac who thinks he’s God in the closet with two dumbos who should be working in a circus. One of these days they’ll figure out that all they have to do is push hard enough, and that door will open. Meanwhile, I can’t leave till the cops, or someone in authority, gets here. Which reminds me, why did you come back?”

  “To get you, of course. You didn’t really think I’d leave you to fend for yourself with God and the dumbos, did you?”

  “Well, since I thought you’d been taken somewhere else and possibly even killed, I didn’t know. Who untied you two?”

  “Your friend,” he said. “The cop.”

  “Ben?”

  “That would be the one.”

  “You mean, he knew I was all alone there in the front room with those three, and he just left me there? Same as you?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “I guess we both have a great respect for your abilities, Abby.”

  “Gee, thanks. Is he all right?”

  “The boyfriend?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Yeah, he’s fine.”

  “Thank God. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He drove us out to the highway, left us with an officer and a squad car, then took off with a horde of police and other authority types. I think they were heading for Emerald Gardens.”

  “Was Joey with them?”

  “No, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of my brother. Should I have?”

  “He said he was flying down here, Jimmy. He should have been here hours ago.”

  “His flight may have been delayed.”

  “But he’s not answering his cell phone, and he hasn’t returned my calls. I’m getting worried.”

  “Joey’s pretty good at taking care of himself,” he said, though he looked worried as well. “What do you say we find some rope to tie the evil warlord and his henchman up, and then go get some food and tons of hot coffee? You can tell me all about what’s been going on here since I fell for the charms of a fourteen-year-old.”

  He’d begun to look through the lower kitchen cabinets. Abby started on the upper ones.

  “Jancy?” she said. “What happened?”

  “I went out to the parking lot this morning to see why a particular car kept circling the lot. The car slowed down and this kid waved at me from the back seat. I’d never seen her, remember, and didn’t have a clue. I just thought she wanted to ask directions or something. I went over to the car and the door swung open. Something weighing at least three tons came up behind me and shoved me into the car. They clamped something with a real bad smell over my nose, and next thing I knew I was waking up here.” He grinned. “And that cute little girl was tied up next to me, cussing like a marine.”

  “Was there another man here? Somebody who came in through the back door while I was in front?”

  “No, why?”

  “Just checking. I was pretty sure Gerry was bluffing. Here!” she said. She had found a pantry, and in it, aside from dusty cans of beans and corn, were several lengths of clothesline. It was old, but made in a day when clothesline lasted forever.

  “Let’s go get ’em,” she said. “I can’t wait much longer for food.”

  “Here, throw me that,” Jimmy said. “Just lead me to ’em.”

  Abby tossed the heavy coils over to him and started out the door.

  Then she felt it—air brushing over her face as the rope came down over her head and settled around her neck.

  She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She clawed at the rope, trying to get a finger under it, but he’d had the element of shock going for him, and there was no space. She tried to kick back, but he was ready for that, too. Then her arms were bound to her sides, and her ankles tied together. She fell to the floor, but not before she was able to look into his eyes.

  They were not eyes she had ever seen before. They were in Jimmy’s face, but he wasn’t Jimmy anymore. He was someone else, someone hard and cold, someone focused on a mission.

  A mission to see her dead?
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  The rain had stopped, and the sky was as clear as glass. The stars were brighter than she’d ever seen them. She felt something crawling on her arm and looked down. A tarantula. No, a scorpion.

  Dear God, what do I know about scorpions?

  They’re poisonous. That’s all you need to know.

  Don’t move.

  No question of that. She was bound so tight, her arms had gone dead.

  Dead.

  Wouldn’t be long now. The sun would come up. The damned sun. How long would it be before vultures began to circle overhead? Were there vultures in Texas? No matter, there were always predators.

  She was lying in muck somewhere behind the house, close to the white rocks. Mud oozed up through her clothes and into her hair and ears. It was alive with the same kinds of crawly things as the mud in the road. Then, she’d been able to keep moving and not think about them. Here, it was all she could think of.

  No, that wasn’t true. She couldn’t shake that image of Jimmy standing over her, knotting those ropes around her.

  She tried not to, but couldn’t help crying. How could she have gone so wrong? If anyone had asked, she’d have said she trusted him with her life.

  But she’d done that before, with another man, and that had ended badly, too.

  What was wrong with her? Why did she keep trusting the wrong people? Tears ran in torrents down her cheeks.

  Why had he done this to her? She had lain on the kitchen floor while he took the Glock and the cell phone, then went into the living room with the remaining rope. He had done all that without saying a word, but she could hear him in there, tying up the three men. Or maybe not all three. Had he taken Gerry with him? Was he in on this whole thing with Gerry? And if so, for how long had he been in it? Since she first met him? How long had he been betraying her?

  A faint tickle on her wrist. With her other hand she tried to get the tiny flashlight out of her back jeans pocket. Though she was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, there was a little wiggle room by her hips. If she sucked her stomach in, there was an inch or two more.

  She felt the flashlight through the denim, and pushed at it until it was nearly out of her pocket. Then, by straining the only two fingers that weren’t numb, she could reach just far enough to grab it. Easy, now. Easy.

 

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