by Janet Dailey
“Not getting a beep,” he called to her.
She got out and went over. “What is that thing?”
“State-of-the-art sensor. Almost as good as a trained dog.” He put it back in the open duffel bag.
The stack of file boxes on the passenger seat caught Kelly’s eye. “Would it be okay to put those boxes in the SUV?” she asked. “I’d rather not leave them in the car if I’m going to put it in a public garage.”
“Sure.” He went around and got two off the top, leaving one box for her. They got them squared away and Deke handed her the ring of keys and the remote.
“I should warm up the engine,” she said. “Sometimes it dies on me. I’ve been meaning to replace the battery.”
Deke waited by the back of the SUV as she walked over and shut the hood and the trunk. She went around to the passenger side to retrieve a few more scattered papers and put the key in the ignition, relieved to hear the car start. She walked back to him.
“I forgot my purse,” she said. “It needs a minute or two anyway.”
He seemed to be listening to the engine. “Runs rough,” he commented.
“Guess this is my chance to get it serviced.” Kelly went around to the passenger side of the SUV, reaching for her purse as Deke climbed into the driver’s seat and shut his door, rolling up the window.
She straightened and looked at him. He opened his mouth to say something but she didn’t hear it. In a split second the shock wave from the bomb hit, rocking the SUV. Deke reached over and grabbed her, hauling her in.
The air shimmered with sudden heat. Acrid dust billowed out toward them, stinging her eyes and searing her throat. Deke was coughing too hard to speak.
Kelly was able to think straight for a few seconds more and dragged her seat belt twistedly over her shoulder, clicking it somehow. Through his window she caught a glimpse of the fireball that engulfed most of her car. Thick black smoke curled out of the hood, rising higher and faster by the second. She scrambled to slam the door on her side as Deke turned the key in the ignition and jammed his foot down on the accelerator.
They were halfway down the top ramp when the car exploded above them. The force of the blast slammed them into a retaining wall. There was a thud inside. Momentarily stunned, Deke stared at her, his eyes unfocused. Then with an effort that was half animal strength and half willpower, he forced the wheel to turn and pulled away with a screech of tires.
Kelly had nothing to brace herself with. She clutched the seat belt as the armored SUV sped around the curving ramps, going faster as he reached the ground floor.
Ahead of them was the entrance to the parking structure, but there was no sign of the guard. Deke gunned the engine and raced out, forced to brake against his momentum when he saw people up ahead. Not all of them were looking up at the roof. Several were crouched around a motionless figure on the asphalt who was staring at the sky.
Gasping for breath, Kelly glanced toward the group and realized it was the guard. She saw his mouth open and a trickle of blood ran down the side. His eyes closed, then opened again. He was alive. Maybe not for long.
Deke had already slowed. He swung over and threw the gearshift into park. “I’ll do what I can. Don’t get out.”
Kelly heard a distant siren begin to wail.
Deke rubbed his forehead, then winced and lifted his hand. A bruise almost hidden by his hair was purpling. Kelly knew better than to mention it. He wouldn’t care.
Lieutenant Dwight had brought them to the station and into a private room where Hux met them. The armored SUV had been left at the secured scene for inspection by the bomb squad.
“There must have been a tail on the WBRX car from the time it left the station,” Deke said. “This guy likes to make sure he’s done his job. If you hadn’t gone to your car, he would have found another way to eliminate you.”
“Sick bastard probably gets a kick out of seeing his victims get hurt,” Hux muttered.
“I never noticed him.” Kelly looked anxiously at both men.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Hux assured her. “The bombing was in the works for a while. We spoke to the condo manager. The letter and the e-mail were both bogus. The wild card was when and whether you would return to the apartment.”
“And I did.”
“No question that your stalker is patient and a professional,” Hux said. “Ex-military would be my guess. The bomb squad said the materials and probable mechanism indicate it. Simple but effective. The bomb wasn’t on a timer and he didn’t have to set it off remotely. The heat of the engine would do that. He knew his stuff.”
Kelly shook inside. “But not that my car takes forever to warm up. I got lucky.”
“You saved your own life when you walked away,” Hux said. “The guard almost bought it. The driver of the silver car hit him head-on trying to escape. We’re getting complete statements from the witnesses now.”
He looked over at Deke. “You okay, pal?”
“The medic said I was.”
“And he told you to get a recheck before tonight,” Kelly reminded him.
“Later. Not now.”
She had expected a reply like that, but she looked at him with concern, then turned to his partner. “Hux, do you know where the guard was taken?”
“I can find out.”
Hux pulled out his smartphone and texted somebody. She and Deke were silent. The soft chime of an incoming answer echoed in the room.
“Atlanta General. He’s still critical,” Hux said.
“Can you take us there?” she asked.
“Say when,” he replied.
Deke stood up as if every muscle in his body ached. Kelly knew how he felt. Terror had been followed by a strange stiffness that she fought against with every step. But they had escaped with their lives.
The nurse at the front desk of the ICU ward was polite, but she made it clear that only family members were allowed past her.
Kelly looked down the wide hall. Outside a room stood a middle-aged woman with the same fair hair as Curt, and a younger one who was probably his girlfriend or wife. They seemed to be keeping vigil. A doctor came out and spoke to both women. The three of them went in together.
She looked up at Deke, who put an arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the elevators. His reassuring hold conveyed emotions neither could voice.
“One way or another, we’re going to get the bastard,” he said quietly. “But you have to stay out of the line of fire. That’s an order.”
CHAPTER 19
An older officer led Deke and Kelly to a room that had once been someone’s office and closed the door after himself when he left. The unused office was furnished with a scratched metal desk and two oak swivel chairs. But it had what Deke had requested: a bulletin board.
He tacked up a Wanted poster. “Work in progress,” he said. “What do you think?”
Kelly didn’t answer right away. She walked closer.
“It’s a composite image of the driver,” Deke said. “But all the witnesses agreed it was a good likeness.”
The poster had been reproduced in color. Kelly looked at the face of the man above the big letters that spelled out WANTED. The dark blue birthmark that tinged his skin from his neck to under his jaw was so noticeable that she almost didn’t recognize him at first.
Silently, she confirmed other details. He had a piercing gaze and black hair. His features were coarse. The written description fit, too: He was massively built, tall enough for his head to touch the roof of his car. He had thick fingers and a chunky ring on his left hand. Kelly remembered neither, but then she hadn’t seen his hands.
“Oh my God. I think I saw him at Natalie’s house,” she said in a low voice. “I thought he was the landscaper.”
“What?” Deke was taken aback.
“When I went there after Bach’s memorial service, he showed up outside at one point. She excused herself to go talk to him and left me alone. I didn’t think anything about it—the groun
ds of her Buckhead house were really overgrown. Then they got into an argument that I could hear through the window.”
“Jesus, Kelly. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know there was anything to tell. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Although I did think it was weird when she slapped him.”
Deke seemed to be about to say more, then decided not to interrupt.
“He just stood there and took it. He was huge. This description fits.” Kelly handed the poster back.
“You mean he didn’t react to the slap?”
“I don’t know. His back was to me. Then he turned and happened to see me through the window. I remember not liking the look in his eyes. Natalie came back a little while later.”
“And then what?”
“I left. I didn’t see him around and I didn’t see a third car. It was strange,” she admitted. “But Natalie is just so theatrical—and she treated the house servant like dirt too. I just wanted to get out of there.”
Deke absorbed the information. “That birthmark didn’t make an impression, I take it.”
“He was wearing a scarf.”
“So our suspect knows Natalie Conrad.” Deke leaned against the metal desk. He was both thoughtful and angry. “I’m thinking we should pay a call on her.”
Kelly looked at him doubtfully. “Didn’t she say she was going to Dallas?”
Deke nodded. “Yeah. But not when she was coming back. We gotta get on this.”
Kelly rose and collected her bag. “If you need me to, I could pick him out of a lineup. Count on that.”
Deke straightened. “I meant Hux and someone else when I said we. She thinks I’m Russ Thorn.”
“And she thinks you’re my fiancé,” Kelly said firmly. “If you show her that poster, she’s going to know that I connected the dots between her ‘landscaper’ and our car bomber.”
“I don’t have to show it to her, and the poster hasn’t circulated beyond law enforcement yet,” Deke pointed out. “But we do have to talk to her. I’m thinking they should bring along a SWAT team.”
“She might not appreciate that. Try something a little more subtle first.”
Deke went over to her, but she stepped away from him. “Please, not now,” Kelly said. “I’m just not up for it.”
His hands stayed at his sides and he didn’t try to follow her.
“Sorry if it sounded like I was pissed off with you, Kelly. I wasn’t. After the drive-by, I shouldn’t even be surprised.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Come on. I’ll drive you to WBRX. Don’t tell anyone about this.”
Several hours later, Deke called her.
Kelly had thrown herself into work. Her businesslike hello was unemotional. “What’s up?”
“Lieutenant Dwight decided against displaying the Wanted poster for the general public until someone can talk to Natalie. The cops have it, we have it, and everyone’s looking for him.”
“When is she coming back?”
“We picked up her name on the passenger list for a ten P.M. flight tonight from Dallas to Atlanta.”
Kelly made a note of it. “You’re not meeting it. Who is?”
“Hux. She doesn’t know him from Adam and he’s not the kind of man she would even look at. But we can’t arrest her. Basically, he just wants to see if she’s traveling with anyone else from our rogue’s gallery.”
“Good enough,” Kelly said.
She fiddled with her pencil. If Natalie was tangled up with the bomber, she must have had something to do with the drive-by. The thought made her feel sick. Especially when she remembered Natalie’s hovering concern after the fact, when Kelly had stayed in the car amid broken glass and bullets, with only Deke to run interference.
He was there when she needed him, in ways she never could have imagined. As far as what else Natalie might have done or was planning to do, he was definitely not paranoid.
“Saw your broadcast, by the way.” Deke’s calm voice interrupted her racing thoughts. “You seem to have recovered.”
“I’m a nervous wreck.”
Deke didn’t get into it. Kelly was grateful. “The hotline graphic looked good,” was all he said. “Anybody call or e-mail yet?”
“Lots of people. Coral and Fred are sorting through the replies. No telling what’s valid and what’s not at this point.”
“Keep us posted. What else is going on over there?”
Kelly shook her head. “I hate to say it, but Monroe could hardly contain his excitement, once he was sure I was okay and no one else beside the guard was hurt. He personally donated a chunk of money toward the medical bills.”
“Decent.”
“You can’t keep a car bombing off the news, Deke. It’s a huge story.”
“Is that because it involves you?”
She frowned. “Yes. And you. You’re a hero around the newsroom.”
“Just don’t mention my name on the air.”
“Never have, never would.” A sudden thought struck her hard. “Deke, if the bomber saw you and he knows Natalie, your cover is totally blown. Russ Thorn has to disappear.”
“I know,” he said. “Nothing I can do about it.”
Kelly had a glass of wine once she was home. She fell asleep on the couch with her clothes on, waking after midnight when she finally heard her smartphone ringing inside her purse. She squinted at the screen. Three missed calls, one after another. Deke.
He hadn’t left a text or a voicemail.
She called him back. “I know it’s important,” she said.
“Yeah. A highway cop just pulled over some monster guy who fits our description.”
Someone was talking in the background. Deke talked back. “What? Say that again? Got it. Silver car, different plates,” he said to Kelly. “Driving erratically, may be drunk. The officer got him cuffed and he’s waiting for backup.”
“Deke—”
“This could be it, Kelly. Just wanted you to know.”
Someone else called to him. Deke hung up. She knew next to nothing and she wasn’t in the game. For once, Kelly didn’t mind. But she wasn’t going back to sleep.
The line of speeding cruisers ate up the highway, turning off onto a parallel road that wasn’t lit. For his own safety, Deke was in the passenger seat of the third car back. The laptop mounted on the dash gave off a faint blue glow that illuminated his face.
Lieutenant Dwight was at the wheel. “Hope this doesn’t turn bad.”
“Who’s the officer?”
“Good guy, from what I heard, but still wet behind the ears.”
“A rookie?”
“Not quite. But not that experienced either.” Lieutenant Dwight slowed when the first two cars pulled over and flanked the highway patrol car. Their doors opened and more cops in tactical gear scrambled out.
Ahead, parked crookedly on the wide shoulder of the road, was a silver, late-model luxury car that fit the Wanted poster description in every detail except for the plates.
A huge, black-haired man lay facedown on the gravel by the rear bumper, motionless, his thick arms behind his back. His wrists barely met. The cuffs were taut.
“I count four guns pointing at his head. I think he got the idea,” Deke said.
“Let’s hope so,” was the lieutenant’s terse answer.
The arresting officer came over when he and Deke got out of the car. His dark uniform showed the signs of a scuffle when he moved through the beams of several sets of headlights.
“You guys can take it from here. He almost had me.”
“How’d you get him down?”
The officer held up a nearly empty bottle of vodka with a long straw in it. “This helped. It’s why I pulled him over—I saw him drinking it. He got out like a good boy and then he went for me.”
Methodically, Dwight walked around the prone man, his shoes crunching in the gravel. “Lost his balance, did he?”
“Yup. He fell just like that. I made my mov
e.”
“Any ID on him?”
“I was going to look in his pockets when I saw you guys coming down the road. Have at.”
Hux and Deke were sitting with Kelly in a quiet restaurant in Atlanta a few days later. “His name is Konstantin,” Hux said. “That’s it. First and last. No driver’s license and no passport or other ID, but he says he’s Russian. Been in the city for about a year. Doing odd jobs.”
Kelly glanced at Deke. “Like landscaping?” she asked Hux.
“I don’t think so. Even though he looks like he could pull a tree out of the ground with his bare hands.”
“How’d you get him to talk?” Deke wanted to know.
“Konstantin hasn’t said much yet. But he wants to. His attorney isn’t against it.”
“He’s lawyered up already? That was fast,” Deke said. “Remind me not to ask for a business card. If I ever need a criminal lawyer, I’m pleading the Fifth.”
“They’re angling for a plea bargain. Apparently Konstantin doesn’t want to be deported at the end of his sentence.”
“If he lives that long,” Kelly interjected.
Hux acknowledged that.
“What did Interpol say?” Deke asked.
“He’s a wanted man in Russia. They don’t fool around over there. He evidently prefers an American prison, a shorter sentence, and a ticket to a nice, warm country at the end of it.”
“So much for justice,” Deke muttered.
Hux shrugged. “It is what it is. He’s facing a charge of attempted murder, since it looks like the guard is going to make a full recovery.”
“Don’t forget aggravated assault and vehicular assault and the bombing,” Deke pointed out. “And there may be more than one killing we don’t know about.”
“Which all has to be proved,” Hux said. “Just as a side note, Konstantin may have done some enforcing for the money-laundering ring around Atlanta. And did I tell you that truck got stolen, Deke?”
“No.”
“Dallas has the hijackers under lock and key,” Hux said.