by Chad Zunker
David scooted closer to Parker, put his hand up on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “What happened next?”
“After that, the guy in the truck split. He just pulled away and left the guy there in the grass. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I wasn’t sure what to do. Then I saw the guy kind of twitch. He just kind of jerked a little bit. I thought he might still be alive. So I rushed over there to see for myself. It was the freakiest thing. The guy’s eyes were still open, even though blood was pouring all down his face. I leaned down over him, started trying to talk to him. I thought if he was somehow still alive, maybe I could run off and get some help somewhere. I tried to lean in close to his chest to see if it was moving, but it wasn’t. Then he was really still. He was dead.”
“That must’ve been how you got the blood spot on the front of your shirt.”
Parker pitched his head. “How do you know about that?”
“The FBI found your backpack with that shirt still inside. That’s how they knew for sure you were there that night.”
Parker’s eyes widened. That seemed to spook him.
“What happened next, Parker?”
David needed to hear every detail.
“The guy in the truck suddenly came back. The headlights blinded me. But I could see it was the same truck as before. So I ran to the picnic table, grabbed my backpack, and took off running. I heard the guy jump out and start yelling at me. But I never slowed down. When I got to the woods, I took a quick look back. He was chasing after me. I just kept running as fast as I could, looking to get away from him. And then he tried to shoot me. I heard the same sound as before, and then I fell. Later, I saw that the bullet hit my backpack. It didn’t get me. I got up and kept on running.”
“Through the gas station parking lot?”
Parker looked up again. “Yes.”
“That’s where the FBI got the video of you. They saw you come out of the woods and run through the parking lot.”
“Do they have a video of the guy chasing me?”
David shook his head. “No, he must’ve stopped.”
“I was so scared, Mr. Adams. I thought about going to the police. But I didn’t. I was afraid they would send me back to the Reid place when they found out I was a runaway. And I never wanted to go back there again.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“After that, I just went back to my life on the streets and hoped it would all go away. Tried to forget it ever happened, just like I’ve tried to forget a lot of things the past couple of years. Maybe it would have worked if I hadn’t gotten myself in trouble by stealing.”
“Parker, was the guy at the park the same one you saw by the fence outside the courtyard at the Hand-Up Home yesterday?”
The boy’s eyes went wide again. “How did you—”
“We saw it on a security camera. It looked like the guy threatened you.”
“He did. It was the same guy. He showed me his gun and told me I should keep my mouth shut or else. That’s why I ran, Mr. Adams. I knew I couldn’t stay there with that guy knowing I was inside. I’d seen him kill a man already. I knew he would try to kill me, too. So I ran.”
David pulled out his cell phone, showed Parker a mug shot of Richie Maylor from when he had been charged with felony assault years ago. “This is the guy?”
Parker nodded. “That’s him. I saw him just a couple of hours ago, too.”
David was shocked. “What? Where?”
“I was hiding out in an empty office building with some other guys. I thought it would be a safe place for a while, but it wasn’t. The FBI showed up looking for me. They were showing my photo to everyone and asking if anyone had seen me. I barely got out of there without getting caught. But then a couple of blocks away, this guy with the goatee shows up out of nowhere with another guy, and they start chasing me. After I got away from them, I decided to call you. I knew I needed help.”
David thought about what Parker had said. Richie Maylor showed up right after the FBI had been looking for Parker? Maylor had also shown up yesterday at the Hand-Up Home right after the FBI. Coincidence? Or was there something more to it?
“You did the right thing,” he told Parker. “I’m going to help you.”
“How? What do we do now?”
“I don’t know yet. I need to figure that out.”
Sandy came trotting back up to Parker, looking for some more petting. The kid scooped the dog right back up. Rebel piled a bunch of wood scraps onto the campfire and used a lighter to get the fire roaring again.
“You boys hungry?” Rebel asked. “I’ve got some canned chili I could get to cooking over the fire. How does that sound?”
David looked over to Parker, who quickly nodded.
“Sounds great, Rebel,” David said.
Standing, David walked over closer to Rebel while he pulled the cans out of a backpack from inside the small tent. “I need to leave the boy here with you for a little while. You okay with that?”
Rebel shrugged. “Sure. I don’t think Sandy has gotten this much loving in a long time. He can have the tent tonight. I’ll sleep under the stars.”
“I should be back later tonight. But, listen, you’ve got to protect this kid.”
Rebel looked up with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on, Lawyer?”
“Some bad people want him dead.”
“Damn.” Rebel glanced over at Parker. “Sweet kid. Don’t seem right.”
“It’s not right. I need to go try to make it right.”
“Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of him.”
David went back over to where Parker was playing with Sandy and knelt in front of him. “I have to leave you here with Rebel for a couple of hours.”
Parker’s face bunched up. “Why?”
“I have to try to go get your life back.” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out the second phone he’d snagged from his desk drawer, and handed it to Parker. “In case of emergency.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. But you’re safe here, okay? Rebel won’t let anyone hurt you. Believe me, you’re safer with him than you are with me.”
“You have to promise me you’re coming back, Mr. Adams.”
“I promise.”
TWENTY-NINE
Jess had been sitting in a coffee shop for a half hour working on her phone when she finally got the text she’d been waiting for. After leaving the café earlier, she’d returned to the Burping Goat in search of Dilly Dyson. The cowboy bartender said his boss was not around but usually showed up at some point every night. They flirted for a little while, and Jess got the bartender to agree to text her whenever Dyson finally arrived. Cody seemed happy she’d been willing to hand over her phone number. Not that Jess had any real interest there—but perhaps somewhere else.
For a brief moment, she let her mind linger on David, and a small smile touched her lips. There was something about him that she really liked. A kindness and gentleness that reminded her a lot of her husband. Jeff would always bend over backward to help someone less fortunate. It was the kind of compassion that might have gotten him killed that tragic day out on the sidewalks of DC. Jess knew she’d let herself get hard over the past few years. It was fear-driven self-preservation. She did not ever want to feel that kind of pain again. But David was not hard—which surprised her. She’d done more investigating on him out of curiosity. She knew about him losing both parents at an early age. Then she’d found out about the dangerous conspiracy he’d survived over at Hunter & Kellerman. Living through all that was enough to make anyone seriously cynical. But David was the opposite of that. Which she found attractive.
She glanced down at her phone and read the text from Cody again.
Boss man is here. Hope to see you soon.
She texted him right back: On my way.
She left the coffee shop and headed for her car. Night was setting in as the last remnant of sun hit the horizon. The coffee shop was
only a mile up the road from the bar, so it was a quick trip. She pulled into what was now a crowded parking lot in front of the Burping Goat. Trucks outnumbered cars three to one. She pushed through the front doors and found the place already rowdy. Country music blared from speakers, and the pool tables were surrounded. Most of the girls in the place wore painted-on jeans and cowboy boots, so Jess stood out a little in her black leather jacket, slacks, and heels. But that didn’t stop several men from eyeballing her every move and flashing their best smiles as she made her way over to the bar. Cody spotted her right away and came over.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said. “You want a drink?”
“Maybe in a second. Where is Mr. Dyson?”
Cody pointed over to a short hallway at the end of the bar. “First office on the right.”
“You’re a true sweetheart. Thanks.”
“You bet. Come back for that drink.”
Jess maneuvered through the crowd and made her way to the hallway. A thick guy with a buzz cut standing near the hallway entrance gave her a cocky smile as she passed. The bar did not lack for confident men. She poked her head inside the office and found Dilly Dyson sitting behind a big wooden desk. He had on a tan suit with a white dress shirt and no tie, just like he’d been wearing in several of the photos she’d found of him online. That seemed to be his look. On the office wall behind him was a large painting of the Austin skyline. There were also several framed photographs of Dyson standing with popular country music stars. Dyson was staring at a laptop on his desk but looked up when he spotted her standing in the doorway.
“Mr. Dyson?” Jess said.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a minute?”
He looked her up and down, smiled. “Certainly.”
Jess stepped fully into the office. Dyson got up out of his chair, circled around his desk, stuck out his hand. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
She shook his hand. “Jess Raven.”
“Good to meet you, Ms. Raven.” He shut the door to his office behind them. “It gets so loud out there, I can hardly hear myself think sometimes.”
“But loud means business is good, right?”
He smiled. “That’s mostly true, I guess. What can I do for you?”
She decided to just come right out with it. “I’m looking for Richie Maylor. I heard he does some work for you.”
Dyson cocked his head. “Heard from whom?”
“A girlfriend. Is it not true?”
“Why are you looking for Richie?”
Jess noted that he’d sidestepped her question. Which put her at a bit of a crossroads. At this point, she had no idea if any of this had anything to do with Dilly Dyson. Her only connecting point came from the jealous girlfriend. That certainly wasn’t something to build a case on. Still, there was something about the way Dyson had so promptly shifted the conversation that gave her pause about being truthful with him. She had prepared to go down two different paths depending on her gut instinct in the moment.
She chose path B. “I work for an attorney representing the estate of someone who has left Mr. Maylor some money. But I’m having trouble locating him. I hoped you could help with that.”
“Really? How much money?”
“Well, I can’t say, Mr. Dyson. That’s private information.”
“Please, call me Dilly.”
“Okay. Do you know how I can find Mr. Maylor?”
“Possibly. What attorney did you say you worked for?”
“I didn’t.”
Jess smiled, left it at that. If Dyson wasn’t going to answer her questions, she didn’t feel obligated to respond to his. But the deeper this conversation went, the more suspicious she became of the man. Why so much shadowboxing? Was he just that kind of guy? Or could he possibly be involved with the death of the federal witness? She couldn’t be sure at this point. But she wanted to be more careful now that she’d met the guy.
Dyson shrugged. “Well, I’m not sure where Richie is at the moment. Honestly, I barely know the guy. He’s done some odd jobs around the bar for me, but that’s about it. Nothing more than that. But if you leave me your number, I’ll try to see if I can track him down for you. Would that help?”
“Yes, I’d really appreciate it.”
Dyson grabbed a notepad off his desk and handed her a pen. Jess quickly scribbled down a fake phone number.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Dyson offered.
“No, I’m fine. But thank you. I really have to get going.”
“Okay. You have a good night, Ms. Raven.”
Jess slipped out of the office. She considered hanging around the bar, seeing if she could dig up any more relevant information on Dyson, until she got an urgent text message from David.
Meet me back at the office ASAP. I have Parker.
Jess rushed for the front doors.
THIRTY
Jess called David while driving down the MoPac Expressway on her way back downtown. Traffic was still thick out on the highway.
“Where are you?” David asked.
“In my car on my way to you. You have Parker?”
“Yes. I was able to get him off the streets. He’s with a friend until I can figure out what to do next.”
“You left Parker with a friend?”
“Trust me—this is no ordinary friend.”
“You and your odd friends.”
“The kid saw it all, Jess. Richie Maylor shot Max Legley in the park that night. Parker was there and nearly got himself killed. Then Maylor showed up today and nearly got him again.”
“Are you serious? How did he find Parker?”
“I have no idea. Did you find Dyson?”
Jess switched lanes to get out from behind a slow-moving van, punched the gas down again. “Yes, I spoke with him a few minutes ago. I can’t tell yet if he has anything to do with this. He was cryptic in his answers about knowing Maylor. It made me suspicious, but that doesn’t mean he’s the reason Max Legley is dead. Especially when we can find no connection to Kingston.”
“Yeah, I hear you. How far out are you?”
“Probably ten minutes.”
“Get here as fast as you can. We need to make a plan on how we’re going to help Parker get out of this mess.”
Jess tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and pressed the gas pedal down even harder. She took the First Street exit and quickly drove into downtown proper. A minute later, she pulled into a parking spot right along the curb of Congress Avenue only a block away from David’s office building. Jess leaned over to grab her workbag from the other seat and then got out.
Before she could take another step, she heard a car engine rumble loudly behind her. Then she spotted the bright headlights of a yellow Camaro coming right at her at rapid speed.
Jess froze. The car was not swerving. Whoever was driving wanted to hit her. Suddenly, a strong push on her shoulder came from the side. She toppled out of the way just as the car reached her. In a blur, she spotted the man who had shoved her take a direct hit from the vehicle, flip up onto the hood, hit the windshield, and then topple off onto the pavement about fifteen feet away from her.
Jess scrambled to her feet. The Camaro slowed for only a moment. Whoever was driving took a peek back at the scene, as if surveying the damage. Jess cursed. She recognized the face of the driver. It was the same thick guy with the buzz cut who had smiled at her in the hallway of the bar earlier. The guy turned, punched the gas. The tires squealed, and the car sped away.
Jess rushed over to the man who had just saved her life. Looking down, she couldn’t believe it. It was Bobby E. Lee, the elderly man with the white beard in the Civil War uniform who sat outside David’s office every day. Bobby Lee was moaning and bleeding all over his face and body. One of his legs was twisted completely backward and looked broken in several places. Finding her phone, Jess quickly called 911. She reported the hit-and-run and gave the operator her location. A crowd quickly began to gather around them. Bobby Le
e yelled out again in pain.
Jess dropped to her knees next to him, took his bloody right hand in hers, and held it to her chest. Leaning in close, she said, “Hang in there, Bobby. You’re going to be okay. Help is on the way. Just hang in there with me a little longer.”
Police cars and an ambulance arrived within minutes. The medics had to nearly pry Jess away from Bobby so they could get better access to him. She kept thanking the old man over and over again, tears now streaming down her cheeks. After quickly inspecting him, the medics strapped Bobby Lee onto a stretcher, hoisted him up into the back of the ambulance, and climbed inside with him.
David was suddenly standing next to her. “Jess? Are you okay? What happened?”
Jess turned to him. “Bobby Lee just saved my life.”
David’s head whipped back toward the ambulance that was now pulling away with sirens wailing and lights blaring.
“Bobby Lee is in that ambulance?”
“Yes. We have to go to the hospital with him right now.”
He grabbed her hand. “I’ll take you. Let’s go.”
THIRTY-ONE
David and Jess huddled in a small hospital waiting room down the hallway from where Bobby Lee was in emergency surgery. One of the doctors had told David earlier that the old man was in bad shape. A lot of broken bones and severe lacerations. The extent of the internal injuries was unknown. It would be touch and go for a while. The first couple of hours were crucial. The doctor was making no promises of anything at this point. Then he left them alone to sweat it out.