Bethany walked inside, past the on-duty officer—the skinny guy named Dwight who wouldn’t allow Marie inside with the Bible. He was the only one on duty and was engrossed in something on his computer.
“This place really shuts down at night, doesn’t it?” she asked him.
He nodded her way. “We don’t have much activity downtown at night. We usually only keep one or two officers in the precinct while the rest patrol.”
She thought about what Marie and Milo told her about Marcus’s attempts to discover his identity but hesitated asking Dwight about it. Finally she voiced the question. She did need to cover all her bases. “Officer Dwight, before I arrived in town today, did Marcus ask anyone around here to fingerprint him?”
“I heard he asked the sheriff about running his prints because he said he couldn’t remember his name, but I don’t think anything turned up.”
“Do you know if they ran his prints through the military system?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t on duty at the time.”
She thanked Dwight then walked down to the jail area and pressed the automated button that opened the door. Marcus was the only prisoner. The hall was dark but she spotted a small light in the back cell so she knew Marcus was still up. When she approached the cell, she was shocked to see him on his knees, by his cot, head bowed and praying.
The image caught her off guard and she suddenly felt like an intruder. Through the bars, she placed the Bible on the shelf then turned and left, leaving him alone in the private moment.
A feeling of unease coursed through her. She should have been resting easily having proved once and for all that Marcus Allen was alive and that all the suspicions she’d had were true. But her mind was working overtime, trying to process everything, but the events of today were like pieces of different jigsaw puzzles. Was it possible Marcus was telling her the truth? That he’d suffered amnesia and had no idea what had happened to him the night of the ambush?
Bethany closed her eyes and sighed wearily. She’d thought when she’d found him, everything would finally make sense.
Now, nothing did.
She walked back into the bull pen and approached Dwight. “I’d like to go through the evidence gathered today on the rooftop.” She’d watched Dwight bag and tag each item earlier and place it inside the locked evidence cabinet for safe keeping.
“It’s kind of late, isn’t it?”
“Not for me.”
He shrugged, pushed to his feet and headed for the evidence locker, keys in hand.
Bethany followed behind him and watched as he pressed the key into the lock. It gave without turning and she immediately saw him tense.
“The lock is busted.” He pulled open the cabinet door.
The shelves were empty.
The sniper’s rifle and all the evidence of the rooftop shoot-out were gone.
Three
The quiet of the jail cell was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. But it wasn’t the sound of someone approaching that caught Marcus’s attention. It was how quiet they were trying to be. All his senses went on alert and the hairs on his neck stood up.
He pushed off the cot where he’d been sleeping and walked to the door of the cell. He scanned the corridor for movement. The only light stemmed from the bulb filtering in through the door into the precinct. He could turn on his own light, but he sensed it would spook whoever was there...and he wanted to know who it was trying to sneak up on him.
He pushed back against the side of the cell, out of sight of the door. A shadow appeared, jutting a rifle barrel between the bars. Before he could fire, Marcus grabbed it and yanked, slamming the would-be shooter hard into the bars. To his credit, he didn’t release the weapon but shoved back. The cell door swung open, jerking Marcus out of the cell. It was unlocked. The electronic locks would have to have been unlocked by someone in the bull pen, so either this attacker was working with someone or had planned ahead and unlocked them himself.
He grabbed Marcus around the neck and tightened his grip. Marcus gasped for air and felt his knees about to buckle in the strong hold. If he lost consciousness, he would be killed for sure. He gripped the man’s arms then strained with every ounce of strength he had. His survival instincts kicking into high gear, he shoved backward, slamming his attacker hard against the wall. He heard him grunt, but his grip didn’t loosen. At least, not the first time.
Marcus rammed him again and again until the gun slipped from the assailant’s hand and hit the floor. Marcus pulled free and dove for the gun, but the guy reached it first and started firing blindly. Sparks of light flickered at each gunshot and the sound was deafening.
Without a weapon, Marcus had little chance of defending himself. He ran for the door at the end of the corridor and nearly fell back when it swung open and Bethany stood there with her gun raised. She saw Marcus, motioned for him to slide past her then started firing blindly into the hall.
Marcus ran through the door and hit the switch to turn on the overhead lights. They took several moments to come on and by the time they did, the corridor was empty.
He heard Bethany’s heavy breathing as she took several steps forward. She knew, as he did, that the shooter hadn’t gotten past them through the only door out of the place. He had to be hiding inside one of the cells.
Marcus motioned at the first cell and she nodded and moved toward it, but before she reached it, he spotted the jutting muzzle of a gun.
“Gun!” he yelled, grabbing Bethany and pulling her through the door just as the shooter began firing again. He leaped to his feet and pulled her up with him. “Run.”
She nodded and took off running and he followed her through the empty police bull pen.
“My SUV is parked out front,” she stated, never stopping.
He considered grabbing a weapon from the police stash but she shook her head. “Forget it, Marcus, they’re gone. Everything is gone. Dwight went out to the car to secure a weapon and call for backup when I heard the shooting start.”
He had only a half second to ponder her words before the door squeaked open and he heard footsteps again, this time heavy and quick.
“Our only choice is to get out of here.” Gesturing for him to follow, Bethany burst through the outer doors and into the nearly empty parking lot. She ran to her SUV. He was right behind her, slipping inside moments before she started the engine and jammed it into gear then roared away.
He glanced back and saw the dark figure emerge from the station and raise his weapon to fire. But the shots never came. Instead the assailant lowered the gun, obviously calculating the distance and realizing they were too far away.
“I don’t think he’s following us,” he told her. “I think we got away.”
She nodded but didn’t let off the accelerator. “I’m not stopping to find out.”
Marcus’s heart was still racing from what had just transpired, but he noticed Bethany seemed calm and self-assured. He couldn’t even detect a drop of sweat on her brow. “What happened?” he asked, realizing she’d just saved his life.
“Something is going on. All the evidence we obtained from the sniper’s nest was missing. Only, it wasn’t just taken, the labels were missing and even the documentation in the evidence log had been changed.”
That was indeed disturbing. “Someone on the inside?” But who at the police station in Little Falls, Texas, had reason enough to try to assassinate him?
“I don’t think so. This has all the markings of a CIA operation.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You’re bringing me in for interrogation.”
“I’m been thinking about this, Marcus. If, as you claim, you haven’t been targeted before today, I think someone must have been shadowing my investigation and followed me here to confront you. When they realized you were alive, they tried to take you out.”
“But why? That
doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know, but I suspect someone in the CIA doesn’t want you to make it to Langley alive.”
* * *
Marcus instructed Bethany to head north out of town. They’d made a clean getaway but neither of them harbored any doubt that the assailant would be back. But, for now, they needed a safe place to regroup and evaluate their situation.
He motioned toward an upcoming road that would take them to the Martinez home. Bethany didn’t argue the point or even ask where they were going. She was busy on her phone, dialing her boss and getting no answer. Marcus owed her his life. If she hadn’t come back inside, he would be dead in his cell. Thank You, God. Finally she sighed in frustration. “Why won’t he answer?”
He saw worry on her face and tried to remedy it. “Maybe he left his phone at home.”
“No, Rick always has it with him. He’s never been out of contact for this long.”
The house lights came on as they approached. Marcus spotted Milo open the front door then step out, a shotgun at his side. He set it down when he spotted Marcus then called inside, no doubt to alert Marie of their arrival. Together, they met them at the car when Bethany parked.
“Are you sure you want to get these people involved?” she asked him. “What if the shooter shows up here?”
“They’re good people and they care for me. I don’t want to put them in danger but we need a place to lay low until we figure out our next move.”
“We shouldn’t stay long. If this guy is as highly trained as I suspect he is, he’ll find us soon.”
Marcus stared at the older couple who had taken him in and been like a family to him for the past few months. He didn’t want to bring them any extra trouble, but he didn’t know where else to turn. He hadn’t realized when he’d started this journey that he would be placing people’s lives—people he cared about—in danger. That didn’t sit right with him.
Marie greeted him with a kiss and a hug when they got out of the car while Milo shook his hand.
“We knew it had to be a mistake,” she stated. “They had to let you go.”
“No, they didn’t let me go. There was a shooting at the jailhouse. Bethany saved my life.”
Marie looked at her and smiled. “Thank you.”
“We won’t stay long. We’ll be gone in the morning.”
“Of course you’re welcome to stay here,” Marie reassured her. “What should we do? Call the police?”
“No,” Bethany told them. “The more people know we’re here, the easier it’ll be for him to find us. The best thing you can do to help is to just go on about your business. It’s late and I can see we woke you. Go back to bed. We’ll be gone by the morning.”
They did as she suggested and reluctantly returned to their house while Marcus and Bethany entered the small garage apartment where he’d been staying. She sat across from Marcus at the small kitchen table. “Who attacked you?” she asked him, watching for a reaction.
He glanced at her, surprised by her question, then indignant that she still didn’t believe him. “I don’t know. How many times do I have to say it? I. Don’t. Know.” He kicked back the chair as he stood and strode to the sink.
He leaned into the sink and she saw the hunch of his shoulders. She wanted so much to believe him and in a way she did, but she couldn’t let it go.
“You have to tell me what you’ve been up to, Marcus. Where have you been these past two years? Who have you been with? And why do they want you dead?”
He turned and looked at her again, anger blazing in his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to tell you the truth. Before I came to Little Falls, I spent a year working on an oil freighter. A man in the village where I was rescued was making the journey to work there and he allowed me to tag along, which was a huge deal because we would have both been killed if he’d been found with me. We trekked through Afghanistan and Iran and made our way to the Strait of Hormuz and got jobs on the freighter. The captain was paying cash for cheap labor and pocketing the difference between that and what the oil company paid. I worked for months for hardly nothing in order to save up the money to purchase a counterfeit passport to get me back into the US.”
She nodded. That was the identification she’d used to track him down. She waited to hear more but he seemed finished with his story. “That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?”
“I don’t know what you want from me, Bethany. I spent months recovering from my injuries that I suppose I sustained in the ambush. Then I was on the freighter or traveling to it. Then I was here. That’s it. That’s all I know.”
She shook her head. “There must be something more. Was there someone on the freighter that you crossed who might come after you?”
“There was no one.”
“What about the man who traveled with you? Could he be hunting you?”
“No. He left the tanker one day while we were docked. He never came back. I heard through my shipmates that he’d been killed in a knife fight when he tried to buy a drink for another man’s girl. I was sad he was gone, but we weren’t close friends. His father had made him let me tag along and he didn’t appreciate it very much.”
She looked as though she felt like banging her head against the table. “I need answers and I need them now. I just can’t get past the feeling that the incident at the sheriff’s office had CIA written all over it. But why would anyone there want you dead?”
He didn’t know but he shared her sentiment that this was more than a random shooting. Someone had targeted him.
“Who are you calling?” Marcus asked as she dialed the number for information.
“The airport. With Rick not answering his line and this attack at the sheriff’s office, we can’t afford to wait for the Marshals to arrive to take us back to Langley. I’m chartering a plane to Virginia and we’re getting out of here. We’ll be out of town and back at the Agency before whoever is after you has had their morning coffee.”
He listened to her make the arrangements and knew it was for the best. The sooner they were out of Little Falls, the sooner he might find the answers he’d been searching for.
A few hours later a car pulled into the driveway. Marcus braced himself. Was the sniper back to finish the job? He grabbed a gun as Bethany peered out the window. He heard her breathe a sigh of relief.
“It’s only the sheriff.”
She met Sheriff Mills at the door and invited him inside. He gave Marcus a cautious look then addressed Bethany.
“I figured you would come here. I knew he was staying with Milo and Marie. My deputy updated me on what happened at the station. We’ve been through it from top to bottom. In addition to the evidence being taken, all the security cameras were disabled and the phone lines cut. This looks like a professional hit.” He glanced at Marcus and narrowed his eyes. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to get to you, Marcus. I thought you were just a drifter but, clearly, I was wrong. What are you in to?”
“I’ve told you before, Sheriff Mills, that I can’t remember.”
“Ah, right. The amnesia story.”
“It’s not a story.”
The sheriff turned to Bethany. “Do you have any idea who this guy is who’s after him? Is he one of yours?”
“No one in the CIA knew I was coming here or that Marcus was alive, but it does seem like an inside job.”
“You want me to take him back to the station with me?”
Marcus shook his head. “I’m not going back in that jail cell. I’ll be a sitting duck when he comes for me again. He’s already proved he can get in and out of the station unseen.” He looked at Bethany. “I’ve already told you I’ll go with you. There’s no need to lock me up.”
She sighed. “He’s right. It’s too dangerous to return him to the jail. We’ll stay here tonight and be gone in the morning. I’ve already made the arrangements
.”
Sheriff Mills stood, his exasperation evident. “I’ll post a deputy by the street. I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re a small town and we don’t need trouble like this.”
“Don’t worry, Sheriff. We’re hitting the road at daylight.”
The lawman walked out, got into his car and left.
Bethany turned to Marcus and flashed him a warning look. “We’ll leave in the morning. Don’t try to run, Marcus, because I will find you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’d better not try to make a fool of me again.”
She walked over to the sofa and sat, but he knew she wasn’t letting down her guard. He wondered when he’d ever made a fool of her before.
* * *
The closest big airport was in Dallas, a two-hour drive away, so Bethany had chartered an aircraft to meet them at the Little Falls airstrip. Since there was no coffee shop and they’d left Milo and Marie’s house early, Bethany poured herself a cup of coffee from a machine that dispensed it black.
Marcus sat in the waiting area, his knee jerking anxiously. She’d seen that particular nervous tick of his before when he’d been preparing to head into a fight. She caught herself smiling at it. Then she remembered the last time she’d seen it. The night of the ambush.
“Why are you so nervous?” she asked, taking the seat beside him.
“Lots of reasons,” he stated brusquely. “I’m about to walk into CIA headquarters and I have no idea what I’m going to tell them. Also, there’s some lunatic trying to murder me and I have no idea why.”
She didn’t care for his tone but she let it go. She’d seen him mask his fear that way before and suspected that was what was happening now. The villagers who’d helped him had planted a fear of the CIA in him and now he was about to walk right into the Agency headquarters. That had to be taking a toll on him emotionally. And he had every reason to be anxious, especially if he was trying to keep something from the CIA.
Their names were called and they walked over to the check-in. Bethany shook hands with the pilot.
Mission--Memory Recall Page 4