Five full minutes passed in silence before Jon signaled Harding and sidled up beside the open front window. The smell hit him hard. The smell of death emanated from somewhere inside the house. Using his good leg, Jon kicked the door open. No response. He nodded to Harding who came in behind him, systematically clearing the home.
“Over here,” Harding shouted from the back of the house. Fear gripped Jon as he reached the open bedroom door.
Sheriff Harding stood aside. Relief was followed by stifling guilt.
Louise Simmons was in bed, a bullet lodged in her temple.
***
“Lizzy!” Jon shouted her name over and over and he went through the house once more. He and Harding checked every closet, under the beds, even the clothes hamper. The house had no basement or attic. The child wasn’t there.
Crestfallen, he’d been certain he’d find Lizzy in the house. He was out of leads.
Think, goddammit!
“What led us here?” he said aloud more to himself than to Harding.
The satellite image that found Gerard. And Dusty. The horse’s microchip. “The horse!”
Jon raced outside, Harding close at his heels, both desperately scanning the property. A gust of wind blew snow off the trees, the flurries swirling around them. The place was desolate. Jon and Harding rounded the house and suddenly found what they were looking for.
The stables.
The moment Jon entered, the sound he heard filled him with a tsunami of emotion. It was a soft moan. Of a child.
***
Bald Mountain
Jon found Lizzy on the floor of a horse stall fifteen miles west of where her parents were keeping vigil. A young mare hovered above the child seemingly unperturbed by the newcomers. Harding led Amigo into an adjacent stall, the name Dusty written on a plaque affixed to the back wall.
Careful not to move her, Jon smoothed back the girl’s hair, cooing “Everything’s okay now. Your mom and dad are going to be really happy to see you.”
Lizzy’s eyes fluttered open, attempting to focus on him. She’d been drugged, her pupils dilated. It looked like shock had settled in. Her left leg was resting at an odd angle, and her lips and skin were scaly, suggesting dehydration. She appeared otherwise unharmed. At least physically. Jon knew first-hand that the child would suffer from another kind of pain. For a very long time.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” Harding said, pulling out his radio. “I’ll leave it to you to give the parents the good news.”
Jon sat on the hay beside Lizzy. He dialed Theodore Davis.
“Davis.” The man’s voice was strained, terror-filled. He was expecting a call from Gerard.
“It’s Agent Steadman.”
“Oh my God. What’s happened?”
“We got her. Lizzy’s alive.”
The sound of a dam bursting came through the line.
***
Once again, a small space was overrun with crime scene specialists. Amigo was led to the corral, jittery from the heightened activity.
Nicole and Theo Davis were waiting in one of the many police vehicles, Theo’s arms now bandaged. The negotiator had escorted them from the hospital, insisting they stay put until their daughter was brought outside. Jon knew it was to protect them from seeing the conditions their daughter had been kept in. He also knew it could have been a much worse scene.
Jon stepped aside as a medic stabilized Lizzy on a gurney, covered her with a Mylar blanket, and escorted her outside to the ambulance. Theo and Nicole bolted from the car, racing to their daughter’s side, both sobbing loudly.
“My baby, my sweet baby,” Nicole cried, kissing the child’s face, Theo tearfully waiting his turn.
The two men made brief eye contact. Theo mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
Jon nodded, the glimmer of a smile on his lips, and went to find the sheriff.
Chapter 59
Tahoe Forest Hospital
The next morning, the officer babysitting Franklin at the hospital informed Sheriff Harding that the patient was awake, who in turn called Jon. Franklin had suffered second-degree burns to his face and arms. His father had saved his life.
At the hospital bedside, Jon gave over custody of Franklin to Sheriff Harding, who loosely cuffed Franklin’s bandaged arm to the bedrail. Perhaps Harding intended it as symbolic. With Franklin’s leg stumps covered with a sheet, he wasn’t going anywhere. As Jon left to deal with the pile of paperwork, he heard Harding ramble off Franklin’s Miranda rights.
Matthews had contacted the local field office to help with the interrogation. Jon was waiting for them to arrive.
“Franklin?”
Theodore Davis stood in the doorway, his five o’clock shadow and puffy eyes declaring his fatigue. His face appeared sunburnt. “Can I have a moment with my son?”
The officer said, “Not till after the Feds ask him some questions.”
“Please.” His voice was filled with anguish.
Jon came up beside Theo, “It’s all right, officer. A few minutes won’t matter.”
Theo approached his son. “Frankie,” he said softly.
Franklin looked up, his face a mask of anger and pain. “Don’t.”
Theo eyed the shackles, keeping a respectful distance. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I wanted desperately to be in your life. It was out of my hands.”
“Liar!” Franklin shouted, spittle escaping his lips. The venom in his voice made Theo recoil. “While you were living in a fancy house in LA, Mom and I were in a double-wide, eating fast food for dinner.”
Theo said, “I’m so sorry, son.”
Franklin shook his head. “Don’t call me that. A father is supposed to keep a son safe. That was your job. I’m a cripple because of you! Instead of making things right, you forgot all about me.” Franklin’s eyes glistened. “You started over again, giving everything that should have been mine to your other kids. Money, education.” Then he added in a whisper, “Love.”
Theo was crying openly. “I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Clearly irritated by the family drama, the officer said. “Time to go, Mr. Davis.”
Theo moved to embrace his son. Simultaneously, Franklin leaned away and the officer held up a hand. “No physical contact.”
Theo looked torn but nodded reluctantly.
The officer ushered Theo out of the room. As the door closed behind him, Jon saw Franklin’s face grow calmer, a single tear sliding down his cheek.
Chapter 60
Los Angeles
The dream started out benign enough. Jon was standing in a field of lavender, a Mediterranean beauty beside him, her jet-black curls blowing wildly around her exotic face. She was speaking too softly to be heard above the sound of the wind. Jon moved closer. Suddenly, the woman’s face turned ghostly white. “Get out,” she said. The field was now a smoldering sea of lava, grotesque pigs paddling through the blackened ash. “Get out,” she repeated.
Jon ran, his feet soon leaving the ground. He flew past the charred remains, above the trees, out toward nothingness.
***
When Jon woke, he was covered in sweat, wisps of the dream lingering, Luanne lying beside him. It was three a.m. The anti-anxiety meds made his dreams more frequent and vivid. He badly wanted to wean himself off them, but decided after months of fighting his inner demons, to trust his shrink. During the waking hours, the pills helped him function like a normal person, but like most things, they came with a price. For now he was willing to pay it. But not if the nightmares persisted. He closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
***
The next time Jon opened his eyes, the sun was streaming through the bedroom window. Luanne stirred, opened a smudgy, black-lined eye. “Morning. Hungry.”
Jon laughed. “I’ve never met a woman with an appetite like yours. What can I get you?”
“I should still have a few things left from the last binge. Go ahead and forage through the fridge. Bring whatever doesn’t have mol
d on it.”
“Lovely.”
Jon kissed her, got out of bed, pulling on his pants. His phone rang.
“Jonny?”
There were only two people in the world who called him that. Granny and Randy. “Hey, buddy!”
“Can we go to the aquarium?”
He loved how kids had no social graces. Not too different than himself. “What does Abuela say?”
“Abuela!”
In the background he heard Randy’s grandmother ask how he managed to call Jon on his own.
He didn’t hear Randy’s answer, but sweet laughter came through the line.
After a minute of the phone being jostled, Randy said, “She said yes. When can we go?”
“How’s about next week?”
“No! That’s too long. I want to see the sharks.”
Jon chuckled. “That’s understandable. Okay. If I get a flight back home today, we can go tomorrow.”
“Yay!” Randy cheered. “Abuela will make sandwiches for us.”
They spoke for another minute and said their goodbyes. Jon grabbed what he found in the fridge along with some stale doughnuts and came back to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Luanne patted the comforter beside her. “Join me?”
“Wish I could but can’t this time.”
“Something to do with that phone call?”
“In part. Remember that kid I told you about? Randy?”
“Yeah, your old partner’s son.”
“Right. Well, he wants to go to the Brooklyn aquarium.”
“Okaaay. So, you’re hopping on a plane for that? If it helps any, I want to go to the aquarium in Marina del Rey. It’s only an hour away.”
Jon smiled. “It’s not only that. I have a job to get back to. You know, my job—the one based in New York.” Aware he’d had a bizarrely similar conversation with another woman—Melanie—not all that long ago, he pondered if his priorities were in order. He thought of Randy. Carrie.
They were.
Luanne pursed her lips. It was adorable. The tough goth chick in child mode. She stayed quiet, pensive.
Jon leaned toward her, took her in his arms. “Let’s enjoy the day. I can catch the redeye.”
“All right. We can check out Venice Beach, then head to Santa Monica Pier.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jon stood, gathering his things.
“Jon?”
Luanne’s tone made Jon turn to face her. “Yeah?”
“I can’t do the long distance thing. I’m not an East Coast girl. I’m not even an LA girl. When you get on the plane tonight, that will be it.”
Jon felt a jab. That sense again of being untethered. Disconnected from anyone he got too close to.
Luanne said, “You look sad.”
“I am. . . . but you’re right. I’ve made that mistake before and it’s not fair to anyone. For what it’s worth, I’m so glad Ed hired you. You’re an outstanding journalist. I never would’ve met you otherwise.”
Luanne perked up. “Change in plans! Grab your jacket.” She jumped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom
“Where are we going?”
“To see Ed. Cheer him up. He’s been in the hospital for weeks.”
Jon stopped her in her tracks and brought her in for a kiss. “You’re a good woman, Luanne Parker.”
Luanne took Jon’s hand and showed him just how good she was.
***
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center
Los Angeles
When Jon and Luanne arrived at Ed’s hospital room, it was empty. Jon felt a twinge of fear. He’d spent more than his fair share of time in hospitals. And Ed was only here because Jon hadn’t helped him when he’d been asked.
A nurse in pink scrubs and matching Crocs passed by in the hallway. Luanne and Jon caught up with her.
“Excuse me,” Jon said, pointing. “Isn’t this Ed Hernandez’s room?”
“It sure is,” said a familiar voice from behind.
Jon and Luanne turned, their mouths agape. Ed stood beside a young woman whose lanyard badge read, Melissa K., Physical Therapist. He was dressed in a hospital gown, its hem skimming his pale, spindly shins. His cheeks were drawn and stubbly, but there was a broad smile on his face.
Luanne rushed over, wrapping her arms around his newly svelte waist. The therapist did not look pleased. Ed grimaced. “Still a bit sore.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m just so glad to see you’re doing so well.”
“It’s been a long road. I’m told for a while there it was touch-and-go. My system shut down.”
Jon shook the man’s hand.
“Jon. What are you doing on this coast?”
“Tracking down the people responsible for you being here. With Luanne’s help.”
Ed nodded. “I told you she was a find. From the looks of you, I’m guessing you had some close calls yourself.”
“I signed up for it, you didn’t.”
Ed nodded in agreement.
Jon said, “We need you back on the beat. How much longer will you be hobbling around?”
Ed laughed. “Not sure. Missy?”
The physical therapist said, “If you keep at it, you’ll be discharged next week, then have out-patient therapy for another month.”
Jon asked Ed, “Then, back to work?”
“You bet. Need to be there when my trusty associate gets her name on the byline of the biggest story of the year.”
Luanne beamed. “I’m gonna keep trying to get Oakley to speak with me. Give him a chance to tell his side of the story.”
Ed said, “I’m duly impressed. I knew you had what it takes.”
The therapist put a gentle hand on Ed’s back. “Ed’s worked real hard in rehab. He needs to rest.”
Luanne and Jon took the hint and said their goodbyes, grateful their friend was still among the living.
***
Santa Monica Pier
Luanne held on to the crook of Jon’s arm. Her other hand grasped the paper cone of cotton candy, her tongue searching for the pink tendrils clinging to her lips.
“Yum! I haven’t had one of these in forever.”
“You know it’s spun sugar, right?”
“And your point?”
He laughed. The breeze off the ocean carried the distinct smell of piers all over the world…tangy seaweed mixed with tar and wood. People strolled along the wooden-planked wharf, buying souvenirs or waiting for a carnival ride. Jon pointed to the Ferris wheel. It felt so . . . joyful. He could finally tell his shrink he did his homework and was having fun. “Want to go for a spin?”
“Sure.” Luanne hurried to the restroom to wash her hands while Jon purchased two tickets. They met back at the wheel. “Sticky, but worth it,” she said.
They rode the wheel, gliding upward toward the apex, where they were awarded a spectacular view of the coastline. It seemed to go on forever. The sun was making its gradual descent into the Pacific, golden light spreading across the water. Luanne shielded her eyes from the glare. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
Luanne’s black lipstick had been licked off and he could see what she must have looked like as a teenager. Jon took in the elegant angles of her neck, her jawline. “Sure is.”
She smiled, and if Jon hadn’t seen it himself, he never would have believed it possible. “You’re blushing.”
“That’s what happens when we humans are embarrassed.”
He pulled her close. “I thought you were a tough broad.”
She didn’t laugh. “Only when I need to be. The rest of the time I’m a cream puff. No . . . a cotton candy.”
Jon said, “Let me taste some of that.”
She tilted her head upward and they kissed the rest of the way to the ground.
Chapter 61
Los Angeles—New York City
Jon and Luanne parted as they’d planned. A clean break. Getting on the plane back to New York, his heart was heavy. Without her—or Melanie—in his life, h
e was single once again.
He made a mental note to get in touch with the permanent members in his life—Granny, Gabe and Terry. He knew those relationships would bolster him, if he made sure to nurture them. His thoughts soon turned to Bernie and Ed. Both the P.I. and the reporter were recuperating from their injuries, each tough in their own way, eager to get back to work. By the time Jon’s plane landed, his mood had improved. He was excited to see Randy.
***
FBI Headquarters
New York City
The next day, Jon’s first stop was at the office. He had missed Matthews’s deadline by three days and was mentally building his defense when Craig gave him the eye.
“What?” Jon asked.
“He just walked in.”
Jon turned and saw his boss dressed in a pressed dark suit, holding a leather briefcase. He looked more put together than he’d even seen him.
Passing Jon’s desk, Matthews raised a brow, nodded, and entered his office, closing the door behind him.
“What happened to him?” Jon asked.
Craig said, “His wife’s influence, no doubt. At the funeral, he said she hated how sloppy he looked when he got home from work. I suppose he’s trying to make her proud now.”
Jon had missed that part of the eulogy, probably while he was outside the chapel getting his own head together.
The rest of the morning was spent typing up the endless case reports. Livingston’s Farmstand Industries and seven other companies were being charged with a felony violation of the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act. OBooks declared bankruptcy resulting in what Peter Cromwell was desperate to avoid. Hundreds of employees out of a job.
Franklin’s phone and computers were confiscated. The geek squad upstairs was working around the clock to determine if Franklin had somehow managed to deliver an updated version of Wang’s spyware app ahead of schedule. With only days left till month’s end, office tensions ran high. If delivered, the only way to prevent the spyware from landing in North Korean hands would be to intercept the White Knight. Unfortunately, that trail had gone cold. And thanks to Matthews, any intel from the Israelis was inaccessible.
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