“Okay, Jergens. Let’s take a look.”
The door tinkled again. There was silence.
“Who’s Jergens?” Lila whispered.
“I have no clue,” Dar said. He was still holding her.
“What do we do?”
“Nothing,” Dar said. “Benny and Reba know what they’re doing.”
The door to the shop opened again. “ … probably only take a few minutes,” Benny was saying. “Why don’t you go get a brew or some coffee while I work on it?”
“That’s what I was doing when it went flat,” the man called Jergens snapped. “I’ll stay here.”
Lila stiffened.
“Well, I need to work on it in my garage. And I can’t have customers back there. Insurance.”
“How do I know you …” Jergens blew out a breath. “Oh, fuck it all.”
“Hey man, it’s cool. Come back in ten. I’ll have a new valve for you. And air in the tire.” Even Benny sounded relieved.
FIFTY–FIVE
Benny found a valve for the tire and reinflated it. Jergens returned, slapped twenty dollars on the counter, and took off. Benny went to the back room and unlocked the door. Lila and Dar were perched on stacks of boxes. Lila looked pale and shaky.
“He’s gone,” Benny said. “But we gotta get home.”
“Why?” Dar asked.
“Gotta fire up the computer.”
“What for?”
“You’ll see. By the way, I have his license plate number. I called my buddy at the DMV, but he’s out till tomorrow.” He shrugged. “’Course, it might not matter by then.”
They crowded into Benny’s pick-up for the ride home. Once in the house, he booted up his computer and clicked on a website. After fiddling with the mouse, he let out a satisfied grunt. “There we go.”
Dar watched the monitor. A road map of northern Illinois with a flashing dot materialized on the screen.
“What’s that?”
Benny grinned. “Jergens.”
Lila leaned over the computer. “You put a tracker on his bike.”
“Turn around is fair play.”
Lila gave him a high five. “How did you manage it?”
“I snuck it on when I put the tire back on. It’s inside the rim.”
“Will he’ll find it?”
“I used a miniature version.” Benny explained. “Not much bigger than a quarter. And sure, there’s a chance he’ll find it. But hopefully we’ll know who he is and where he’s going by the time he does.”
Dar started to put on his jacket. “Come on, Lila.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going after him. We have to finish this.”
“But what if it gets ugly?”
“If anyone tries to harm you, I’ll fight the devil in hell.”
She gave him a small smile.
“I can track him from here,” Benny said. “And let you know where he’s heading. Just keep in touch.”
“Tell Cece and Reba we’ll be back,” Dar said.
“Wait,” Lila said. “I have to get something.” She went into the spare room.
Dar knew what she was going for. He kept his mouth shut.
Lila drove east on I-90 in the Econoline. She put her cell phone on the dash. They were closing on O’Hare airport when Benny called.
“He’s still on 90.”
“Thanks.” She disconnected and gazed through the windshield. The afternoon sky hung low with dark angry clouds. Every few seconds a snowflake drifted over the windshield. “I don’t like driving in snow.”
“Maybe it will hold off,” Dar said.
“Right,” she said doubtfully. “So, who is he? Is Markham giving him his marching orders?”
“Markham might be furious,” Dar said. “He might want revenge. But he’s not stupid. I can’t believe he’d try again so soon. He waited years to find Payton, remember.”
“What about Teddy? Maybe Jergens is working directly for him?”
“Anything’s possible,” Dar said. “But it doesn’t feel right. Then again, I haven’t been around Teddy for forty years.”
Lila ran a nervous hand through her hair. She leaned forward. Then she leaned back.
“What is it, Lila?”
She cleared her throat. “I should have told you this before, but it never seemed like the right time. And we were pretty busy.”
“What is it?”
“A few days ago, I checked my messages on my phone in New York.” She held out a hand as if to ward off a scolding. “Yes, I know it was dangerous, and I shouldn’t have. But someone named Joanna Kerr left me a message. She said she was Philip Kerr’s ex-wife, and she needed to talk to me right away.”
Dar looked over.
“When I called, she said my grandfather changed his will just before he died. That Danny and I were supposed to inherit the bulk of his estate. But that her ex-husband … ”
“Philip Kerr,” Dar cut in.
“You know about this?”
He nodded. “I got a letter from her when I was inside.”
“She told me she wrote you but never got a reply.”
“I didn’t trust anyone with the name of Kerr back then.”
“So you know what happened?”
“I went to see Kerr after I got out. He said it wasn’t true.”
Lila’s eyes went wide.
“He said his ex-wife was making it up. To get back at him. A bad divorce. No kids, he said.”
“And you believed him?”
“At the time … ” Dar looked over. “Wait a minute. What are you trying to say?”
“Think about it, Dar. The only heir to a considerable fortune finds out his father changed his will right before he died. Two people he’s never met are going to inherit half of his money. How would you feel?”
“Furious, but … ”
“Bear in mind we never really understood why Markham’s people were after me. You, yes. It was logical. But me? I had nothing to do with the past.”
“Yes, but … ”
Lila looked over. “There’s something else. Joanna Kerr said the brakes went out on her car recently. She doesn’t think it’s an accident. She’s in hiding.”
Dar sat up straighter. “When? When did this happen?”
“She wasn’t specific, but recently.”
“But after I went to see Kerr.”
“Probably.”
Dar let out a groan. “Oh my god. That means there were two groups coming after us. Markham’s people. And Kerr’s.”
“The rental truck. And the man on the motorcycle. Different people. Different M.O.s.”
“But the same objective.” Dar rubbed a finger below his nose. Then he nodded. “Now it makes sense.”
Lila nodded.
More snow dusted the windshield. Dar leaned forward.
“I think I know where’s he’s headed.”
FIFTY–SIX
The snow began in earnest as they advanced up the Michigan shore. The wind picked up too, and blowing snow obscured the view. Lila turned on the radio. The all-news station warned that a storm from the Plains was closing in. Ten or more inches were expected, and blizzard conditions were predicted.
Traffic slowed to a crawl. Lila hunched forward, peering into the blinding white. Flashes of red occasionally blinked—the hazard lights on the cars in front. She rolled her shoulders and cranked up the defroster. Uncomfortable as they were, Jergens had to be in worse shape. He was on a bike with little traction, no protection from the elements, and no heat. Unless he’d pulled off the road somewhere and was waiting out the storm. That would be the smart thing to do.
Despite the intensity, the storm was eerily silent, the quiet broken only by the thud and swish of the wipers. An early dusk descended, and the light turned blue, then purple, then disappeared. Swirls of white slanted sideways across the van’s headlights. Lila’s eyes grew heavy, and she blinked to stay alert.
“What do we do if we tie Jergens to
Kerr?” Lila asked.
“We call the cops. Let them handle it,” Dar said.
“Except that if Jergens is the one who took a shot at me, threw the grenade, and attacked me in an alley, he’s committed to killing me. And since I cut him with the HideAway, it’s personal. The police won’t be any help. Especially if we catch up to him before they do.”
Dar tightened his lips.
She yanked her thumb towards the back of the Econoline. “The .38 is on the floor back there. In my bag. I need it.”
Dar twisted around, grabbed the bag, and stowed it under the front seat.
Her cell trilled. Benny confirmed that Jergens was heading north on 196 toward Grand Haven, but the signal kept fading in and out.
“Must be the weather. We’re in the middle of a blizzard,” Lila said.
She disconnected and slowed even more, trying to keep the car from skidding off the road. She felt exhausted and drained. Twenty minutes later she was about to pull over when her cell buzzed again.
Benny. “The signal’s stopped. For about ten minutes now. At the junction of 196 and 31. Near Holland. Could be a rest stop. Where are you?”
“About twenty miles south, I think.”
“Well … ” Benny cleared his throat.
“Thanks.” She rang off and told Dar. “So what do you want to do?”
The snow was unrelenting. It glittered in the headlights from oncoming cars, but the headlights grew fewer and farther apart. The defroster grew sluggish; Dar had to keep wiping the glass to remove the condensation. “I think we ought to call it a day.”
Lila hunched her shoulders. “But we’re almost there.”
“It’s time to call the police. Let them handle it.”
For someone who’d fought the system for so long, he was putting a lot of faith in it now, Lila thought. “Let’s just check out the rest stop. See if he’s there.”
“And then what?”
Lila didn’t answer.
FIFTY–SEVEN
It took almost an hour to get to where Routes 196 and 31 met outside Holland, Michigan. Just before the junction was a highway rest stop. Lila followed a ramp to a one-story building with glass doors. A row of parking slots in front of the building was practically full, and she could see a crowd of people inside. The interior was brightly lit, and heads bobbed as people chatted, faking a camaraderie they would forget once the storm subsided.
Lila slowed the van. “Do you see him?”
“No.”
She looked around the parking area. “I don’t see the bike, either.”
“I’m going inside to check.”
“I’ll go with you!”
“No.”
“Please, Dar.”
“He won’t do anything with so many people inside.”
Dar opened the van’s door and slid out. Lila watched him disappear into the swirling white. Her stomach churned. She leaned over to the passenger side, grabbed the bag he had stowed under the seat, and pulled out the .38.
A few seconds went by. There was no way she could stay in the car while Dar was inside. She started the engine, backed out of her spot, and cruised slowly past the row of cars. She was nearly at the end when she spotted the Enduro. She recognized the plastic bumpers extending from each end. Most of the cars nearby were covered with a thick layer of white, but the motorcycle was bare.
Jergens was here.
She had to find Dar. She nosed the van around, circled the access road, and headed back to the building. In her haste, she gave the Econoline too much gas and sent it into a skid. She wrenched the wheel to the right. The van kept sliding. She was going to plow into the line of parked cars! The van straightened out with just inches to spare. Gripping the wheel, she drove back to where she’d parked, only to find the space had been taken by another car.
She thought of leaving the van in the middle of the access road with the engine running, but decided that was a bad idea. For the second time she coasted past the row of parked cars, hunting for a spot. Finally she pulled into a space at the end of the line, ironically two spaces from the motorcycle. She slipped the .38 into her pocket and got out.
It was ominously quiet, the snow muffling all sound. She plodded steadily through it, but her nerves frayed with each step. Finally she reached the door and pushed through. She searched the throng for Dar. He was tall—he should stand out in a crowd.
She didn’t see him.
She went to the vending machines—maybe he was getting coffee. Not there.
Maybe he was in the men’s room. She walked over to the entrance and waited at the door. A gray-haired man emerged, then a man holding a little boy’s hand. No Dar. Lila shifted. She would ask the next man who came in to check on him. She looked at her watch. Nearly ten minutes since he took off. She couldn’t wait any longer. She took a quick look around. Seeing no one, she snuck inside.
The men’s room was remarkably clean, with six stalls and three urinals. Thankfully, no one was at the urinal, but she did see a pair of feet in the second stall.
“Dar? Are you there?”
“Huh? Who’s there?” a voice asked.
“Dar?”
“I sure as hell am not,” the voice replied. “And what the hell …
“Sorry … ” She hurried out as another man entered. He gave her a bewildered look.
Lila’s heart was thumping, and her hands shook. Dar was in trouble. She could feel it. She looked around. People entered the rest stop through a set of glass doors on either end of the building. Floodlights illuminated each door and the area around it; if not for the blowing snow, she might have seen all the way to the road. As it was, the visibility was barely three feet. Still, she doubted Jergens would try anything near the entrances. Too many people coming and going.
That left the sides of the building, which were shrouded in shadow. She huddled into her coat, felt for the .38, and went outside.
It was dark, and the snow was gusting so fiercely it was impossible to see. She stayed close to the walls and crept around the building. She kept her eyes down, searching for footprints, but saw only dizzying eddies of snow.
“Dar?” she called out.
The wind threw her words back in her face. She kept going. She wasn’t sure how long it took to reach the entrance at the other end, but when she did, she saw nothing. No disturbances. No footprints. No Dar. She started around the other side of the building, the side that faced the exit ramp. It seemed darker here, but more protected, and the wind was less intense. She’d only gone a few steps when she saw imprints on the ground. She stopped. Snow was filling them in, but she could see two sets of footprints. One set stopped abruptly, replaced by long runnels, as if something—or someone—had been dragged.
She pulled out the .38, then started forward again. Suddenly she heard a growl. She pivoted around, but it was too late. Jergens was charging her, head down. She tried to dodge him, but the snow slowed her, and he rammed her up against the wall of the building. Her head snapped back and exploded in pain. The world started to spin. The .38 slipped out from her hand, and the ground came up to meet her.
Lila swam up from the void. It was becoming familiar, she realized hazily, although the darkness wasn’t as deep or thick this time. Slowly she opened her eyes. She was on the floor of the Econoline. Her hands and feet were tied. An inert figure lay beside her. Dar. Was he alive? She squinted, saw the rise and fall of his chest. Relief washed over her.
A foul odor drifted down. She turned her head to the side. Jergens was kneeling over her, his gun nuzzling her cheek. Was he going to attack her? Rape her? Had he already? Her clothes were still on. Her coat, too.
“Time to get up. You’re driving,” Jergens said. He teased the barrel of the gun up and down her cheek.
She licked her lips. She felt heavy and logy. “My head. I … I can’t.”
He prodded her temple with the gun. “You can and you will.”
She tried to sit up. Again she looked over at Dar. He hadn’t mo
ved, and she could no longer see his breath. Fear flooded through her. “What did you do to him?”
Jergens grinned. With his mouth open, his breath smelled even more rank. “Don’t worry about him.”
Keeping the gun on her, he slipped his other hand into a pocket and brought out a knife and cut the ropes binding her hands and feet. She considered kicking him in the balls and grabbing the knife, but he kept himself too far away.
“Now … you’re going to get up. Nice and easy. Climb into the driver’s seat. And don’t try anything stupid.”
She raised her head. A wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She choked it back.
“Let’s go, let’s go.”
Lila moved slowly, stretching and contracting her muscles.
“Come on. Get into the seat.”
She did what she was told. She felt clumsy and slow. She landed in the driver’s seat with a thump. Jergens rode shotgun, keeping his weapon trained on her. The keys were in the ignition. He leaned over and started the engine.
“Now drive.”
She gripped the wheel and slowly backed out of the rest stop.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Grand Haven, it was midnight. Tree branches bowed under thick blankets of white. The tracks of cars preceding them were practically filled in. The town looked deserted. It was as if they were the only souls on earth. As she drove, Lila caught glimpses of the lake. It was frozen solid at the shoreline, the ice covered by fresh snow.
Jergens directed her down a narrow lane where an iron gate blocked the road. On one side was a gatehouse. He made a call on his cell. “We’re here.”
A moment later the gate opened.
“Drive,” Jergens said.
Lila inched the van down a winding driveway. Tires crunched on snow. The wind screeched. Lila could just make out a large structure at the end of the drive. She rolled to a stop in front of an imposing house that looked solid and ostentatious.
The driver’s-side door flew open, and cold air whipped through the van. Someone aimed a blinding light at her face. She squeezed her eyes shut. Beneath her closed lids, she could feel the light hover on her face. Then it swung away.
“Out of the van,” a man’s voice ordered.
Lila slid to the ground. A man in a thick parka, wool hat, and boots stood in front of her. He was holding a high-powered flashlight in one hand, a gun in the other.
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