No Place to Hide

Home > Other > No Place to Hide > Page 12
No Place to Hide Page 12

by Lynette Eason


  “Wow. That was a bit extreme, wasn’t it?”

  “Maybe. But it was fun too in some ways.”

  “Couldn’t you report the captain? There are laws against that kind of stuff, aren’t there?”

  “Sure. And some people did, but his uncle was the mayor.”

  “Ah. ’Nuff said. So where is he now? Your husband, not the captain.”

  “He died.”

  He sucked in a quick breath and searched for the right words. He couldn’t find them.

  “He was killed in a random convenience store shooting.” Her fingers flexed on the wheel. “He was there at one o’clock in the morning when he should have been at home in bed asleep, but …” She swallowed hard. “He wasn’t.”

  “Oh—wow—I’m—I—don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

  “I am too. And you don’t have to say anything. There’s nothing you can say. Nothing anyone can say …”

  “Is that why you’re mad at God?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  She fell silent and so did Ian. He wished he had words to offer comfort, make things right, but knew he didn’t so he just kept his mouth shut. But his brain kept spinning and worry for his cousin ate at him. He decided to change the subject. “They got to Holly, didn’t they? They figured out I faxed that email to her, didn’t they?”

  “I don’t know, Ian. We’ll go straight to her apartment and see what we can find.”

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  “You didn’t. I broke into your house, remember?”

  “Well. True.” He raised a brow. “What’s up with that anyway? Why not just knock?”

  “I did. Several times.”

  “Yeah. So why didn’t you leave then?”

  “I’d seen your face on national news. When you wouldn’t answer your phone or your door, I was worried.”

  “So you picked the lock.”

  “Yes.”

  “So back to you being dragged into this.”

  “Nobody dragged me.”

  “Regardless … I won’t go to the cops. And now you’ve gotten your friends into it. I’m probably going to jail when this is all over. And because of me, you will too.”

  “Let’s just focus on our goals right now.”

  “What are those?”

  “Find Holly and make sure she’s safe, get that code to the FBI so they can be working on it, and figuring out what’s going to happen in New York.”

  “If anything.”

  “And prove your innocence. If we can do that, no one goes to jail except the people who deserve to.”

  He pulled out the email again and studied it.

  NYonSTBY.

  d,s;;[pcfr;obrtrf.

  H4W9

  aasjl;;

  /fg’g[.jl]]u

  Cnt:T8R sas1sjg2hjha3

  He looked up. “Something’s going to happen. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

  She reached out to cover his hand. The warmth of her fingers wrapped its way around his heart and he cleared his throat.

  She nodded. “Okay. We’ll go with that.” Her lips tightened. “I sure hope you’re right because we’re running on borrowed time.”

  16

  6:15 P.M.

  SOUTH CAROLINA

  “Cedric Wainwright is dirtier and stinkier than my daddy’s two-day-old socks,” Ron said. Four hours earlier he’d stripped the truck of the horse emblems, switched the license plate back to the original, and driven it to a friend’s house where it would be parked until this was all over.

  And it would be over. Soon.

  His buddy had choppered him back to South Carolina thirty minutes ago. David had picked him up at the airport and now they were on their way to the Operation Refuge office.

  David lifted a brow and shot him a sideways glance. “Stinkier? Is that a word?”

  Ron snorted. “Probably not, but you get my drift.” He paused, then gave a slow smile. “No pun intended. Get it? Stinkier and drift—”

  David barked a short laugh. “I get it. It’s bad, but I get it.” He sighed. “We need to dig up every last detail on the man.”

  The brief flash of humor was gone. “I’ve dug up enough with a little help from a buddy at the Bureau. I’ve heard of Wainwright before, of course. He’s in the papers all the time for his philanthropic work and all the advances his labs have been responsible for in medicine.” Ron scrolled through his phone and held it up. “Makes for some interesting reading. My contact with the FBI is digging deeper, of course.”

  “He ask you any questions about why you wanted to know this stuff?”

  “No. We have an understanding.”

  “You were in the Army together?”

  Ron let a smile play on his lips. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

  “I’ve come to learn something about you.”

  “What’s that?” Ron asked.

  “You have contacts everywhere and an unlimited amount of resources at your fingertips.”

  “True.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  Ron sighed. “You’ve never asked before.”

  David shrugged. “I figured you were entitled to your privacy and if you wanted me to know it, you’d tell me.”

  “So what’s different about now?”

  “Now Jackie’s involved.”

  “Yes. She is.”

  They fell silent for a brief moment. Ron debated whether to share his story or not. He didn’t suppose it mattered. And besides, he trusted David. “I was in the Army.”

  “Right.”

  “I had some pretty specialized skills and did a few favors for some of the higher-ups in government at the time.”

  “Higher-ups?”

  “All the way to the Oval Office,” Ron said.

  David blinked. “Okay.”

  “That made me a few friends.”

  “And a few enemies, I would hazard to guess.”

  “A few.” He rubbed his chin. “I was also in the Secret Service for a while. When one of those enemies found me and almost took out the president because he was gunning for me, I decided it was time to disappear.”

  “And keep a low profile.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve got to ask one more question while we’re reminiscing.”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Where’d all your money come from? You seem to have an endless supply of it.”

  Ron laughed. “That’s bugged you from day one, hasn’t it? Well, I have to say, all of that money came from hard work. I was in the Army. But I also did some work for a private organization who funded some missions. When my buddies and I were doing missions, sometimes we’d come across a drug lord’s stash. We divided up the loot and vowed to do something good with it.”

  David nodded and Ron knew he was thinking about the time Ron had saved David’s life. “I’m glad.” He paused. “I’m assuming you never got caught since you’re sitting here and not rotting in prison somewhere.” Ron knew what David was thinking. As a government employee, Ron’s actions were illegal. If he’d been caught, he would have been tried and convicted and sent to prison. Working in the private sector, he had more flexibility.

  “No. We weren’t caught. And those weren’t Army-mandated missions so …” He shrugged. “Anyway, as far as my enemies know, I’m dead.”

  David nodded. “And if they found out you weren’t?”

  “They’d come after me and everything associated with me.”

  “I see.”

  They pulled up to the office and David let the car idle as he looked out the window. Ron let him think.

  Finally, David turned back to him. “So Wainwright. He sent that email to his employees, making a huge mistake when he clicked on Ian Lockwood’s name instead of Ian Peterson.”

  “Which means we know at least two people who are involved in this. Cedric Wainwright and Ian Peterson.”

  “Right.”

  “Or not.”

  David narro
wed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “What if someone else sent the emails from Wainwright’s computer?”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I don’t have a clue. We know Jackie and Ian didn’t send the emails that were found on their computers, so I guess the same thing could have happened to Wainwright. Someone could have hacked his account.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “I’m not saying I do, I’m simply throwing out possibilities.”

  “Yeah,” David muttered. “Lots of possibilities. What did your friend find on Wainwright? Anything tangible?”

  “He said he had to peel back layers and layers to get to the core, but it looks like Wainwright has ties to organized crime.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Ugh?”

  “Organized crime. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

  Ron nodded in agreement. David had been in the Witness Protection Program and the mob boss Alessandro Raimondi had targeted him and Summer. They’d barely escaped to live to tell about it. “Something else is bothering me,” Ron said.

  “What’s that?”

  Ron pursed his lips. “I heard on the radio this morning that the Department of Health and Environmental Control is encouraging citizens to get vaccinated for smallpox, and vaccines were being made available wherever you could find a flu vaccine.”

  “What? Smallpox?” David glanced at him.

  “An outbreak has been reported.”

  “Where? What country?”

  “Here.”

  David fell silent and Ron pondered what the announcement meant. His buddy with the FBI hadn’t been able to give him any additional information, but the whole thing bothered him.

  “An outbreak of smallpox in the United States.” David shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. The disease was eradicated years ago.”

  “In 1979. But there have been a few isolated cases since then.”

  “So what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking something’s going on and no one’s talking about it. Instead they’re trying to do damage control.”

  David nodded. “You know all those resources you have?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any of them with the CDC?”

  “No, but I bet the governor can help us out there.”

  7:45 P.M.

  NEW YORK CITY

  Jackie breathed a sigh of relief as she drove past the apartment building for the fifth time and saw nothing out of the ordinary. At least nothing apart from what looked like normal nighttime busyness near Central Park. No surveillance vans that she could see, but who knew? She itched to get up to Holly’s apartment. Her heart thudded at the thought of Holly or her daughter in danger.

  Couples huddled on the benches outside while owners walked their dogs. Any of them could be agents, but it just looked like a quiet, clear, cold night and they were going to have to go with that. If those were agents, they’d find out soon enough.

  “I can’t park in the underground garage, I don’t have a card or the code,” Ian said.

  “We’ll find something on the street. We’ll just have to be a bit patient.” Easier said than done, Jackie decided when she circled again. And again. Impatience bit at her, but she refused to let her emotions make her careless at this point.

  Ian pointed. “There. Someone’s pulling out. Grab it.”

  She did, sliding smoothly into the spot. “All right, the FBI is going to be watching her place most likely.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ll want to talk to her, interview her about your favorite people, places, et cetera.”

  “So they’re here?”

  “Yes. Probably.”

  “But where?”

  She looked around, trying to be subtle, but not wanting to miss something. “They’re not going to be obvious, but because I’m looking for them, I should be able to spot them. They’ll have her building in view, maybe even her unit.”

  In front of her, a mother pulled her sleeping toddler from the back of a van and hurried toward the building. Could be an agent. Probably not.

  Across the street a young woman with a briefcase climbed out and slammed the door. Jackie finally put the car in park. “I can’t believe we made it,” she murmured.

  “I know.”

  “Which apartment is hers?” She unbuckled her seat belt.

  “2A. Second floor.”

  “All right. When’s the last time you called her?”

  “About twenty minutes ago and still no answer.”

  Jackie pulled a baseball hat down over the strawberry blonde wig she’d donned. Thankfully the night was clear even though it was cold and snow was likely. Ian jammed a hat on his head. He slipped black-framed glasses with clear lenses over his eyes and blinked.

  “I don’t want to announce that we’re here, so no questioning the neighbors.” She bit her lip. “Looks like we’re going to have to break in and see what we can find.”

  “Why not just use the key?”

  “You have one?”

  He shook his head. “But I know where she hides one.”

  “All right, let’s go.”

  “You see any feds?”

  “No. And I’m hoping they don’t see us.”

  They climbed from the car and Ian glanced at the building, then at Gus, who shook himself from head to toe, glad to be out of the car. Ian looked torn. “I need to let him do his business. I don’t suppose another couple of minutes will make a difference in finding Holly, will it?”

  “Probably not.” She shifted. “I’ll go up and knock.”

  “No, I don’t want us separated. Just give me three minutes. There’s a small area around back that the apartment keeps stocked with supplies and a special trash can.”

  “Nice.” Jackie glanced in the direction of Holly’s apartment. God, please let them be all right …

  She shut off the prayer and followed Ian as he took the lead, Gus trotting along beside him. They headed for the back of the building and found the grassy spot for the dog. “It’s in the association dues, I’m sure.” He smiled, but she saw the tension in it. He wasn’t concerned about association dues or how he was going to clean up after Gus. But the small talk was a slice of normal in a world gone crazy. “We’ll hurry.”

  Jackie followed at a slower pace, taking the opportunity to examine the area. Ian’s need to walk the dog was actually a blessing. It slowed her down, gave her a moment to think and not act too fast. She kept an eye on the people nearby, carefully studying each person she passed. She breathed a relieved sigh when no one set her inner alarm bells off. She couldn’t spot anyone who shouted “FBI agent,” but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. She had spotted a homeless man sitting in front of the building sipping on a bottle out of his paper bag. An agent? Possible. Hopefully not. She sighed. They’d just have to take their chances.

  She stayed on the edge of the green area, thinking, her mind spinning, processing what she knew and wondering what she didn’t know, satisfied no one knew they were there. Yet.

  Ian and Gus approached. “We’re ready.” Jackie followed him to the back door of the building. He punched in the code and the lock clicked open.

  “You come here often.”

  “A few times. I come to see her and Lucy a few times a year. Enough times to remember the code.” He nodded to the short hallway she found herself in. “This is the pass-through. If you keep going straight, you’ll find yourself at the front of the building. We want to go about halfway to the staircase on the left and go up.”

  They walked down the hall to the stairs that would lead them to the second floor. Jackie automatically noted the steps to the left and to the right.

  She followed behind Ian and Gus as they ascended and waited for them to stop in front of 2A. Ian went to the locker bolted against the wall next to the door and spun the combination lock. He reached in and lifted a key off one of the silver hooks. “Glad she’s a creature of
habit.”

  “So she’s in the habit of not answering her phone?”

  “No.” He frowned. “And that’s why I’m freaking with worry.” He jammed the key into the lock and twisted.

  Jackie stepped in behind him and gasped. “Someone beat us here.”

  Ian stepped forward. “Holly? Lucy? It’s Ian.” He heard the panic in his voice as he took in the trashed apartment. He vaguely registered Gus coming inside the open door behind him. Ian let go of the dog’s leash and raced to the bedroom. Chaos. Drawers pulled out and dumped, the bedclothes ripped off and on the floor. A picture of Lucy and Holly smiled up at him, their expression contorted by the broken glass.

  “They’ve destroyed the whole place,” Jackie muttered.

  “She’s not here,” Ian called.

  “Yes, I am. What in the world?”

  Ian and Jackie turned as one.

  “Holly!” Ian bolted to her and grabbed her in a bear hug. “When I saw this place, I thought the worst.”

  Holly yanked away from him, sputtering as she stared at her apartment, her gaze dazed, afraid. She pulled her stunned gaze away from the disaster and stared at Ian. “Who are you?”

  “It’s me, Holly. Ian.”

  “Ian?” Her eyes narrowed, then widened. “Ian? Is that really you?” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re okay. The news—”

  “I know. I know.” Ian ran his hands over his cousin’s red hair and scanned every inch of her pretty heart-shaped face. She had lost weight and looked extremely fragile, but she was alive. They hadn’t gotten to her.

  “We need to go,” Jackie said softly. “If the FBI is watching, they know she’s here. They’ll be up here shortly.”

  Ian shot a brief look at Jackie and noted her tension, her worry. “Right. Right,” he agreed. He looked back at his cousin. Confusion stared back at him, her light green eyes taking in the disaster behind him. Belatedly, he noticed the rolling carry-on sitting in the hallway and the computer bag still looped over her shoulder. “You were traveling.”

 

‹ Prev