Chapter 184
"The guy who worked there wouldn't help me. He said he was too busy to read the disc."
Kate swallowed, hoping that was all he was upset about.
"He was annoying as h.e.l.l and so I pulled my gun out and threatened him with his life."
"Oh."
"He calmly said I'd have to leave the disc with him and come back tomorrow. Sadly, the gun hardly fazed him. This is LA after all."
"What did you do?"
Jack scowled. "I didn't leave the disc, but it's a surveillance store for G.o.d's sake. I had at least a dozen cameras on me." He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel and let out a sardonic laugh. "What else can I possibly add to my growing list of offenses?"
"You didn't shoot anyone, did you, Jack?"
"No, I didn't do that," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
If it had been anyone but Jack, she might have been amused. After everything they'd been through, he was worried about holding a gun to a clerk in a security store. But wasn't that just like Jack to be concerned about adding to his list of bad deeds. Jack Coffey, the last of the American Heroes, and a man without an evil bone in his body. "Jack," is all she said before putting a hand on his knee. "I'm so sorry."
"Yeah. This sucks."
She squeezed his leg.
"I've managed to get Dr. Forstin killed, and now Becky. G.o.d, that's all f.u.c.ked up. A.J. was in shock and denial. I could see it in his hollow, blank stare. Who's next, I wonder?"
"That's not fair. You had no idea what you were up against when you came looking for me. If it weren't for you I'd still be running from my own shadow."
"We're at a dead-end, Kate." He stopped at the red. "We're running out of options. I have a video disc that I can't read. It could be blank for all I know. We know Monahan was involved and now Benjamin Greene/Sheldon, Roger Cott, and someone named Lou who appears to be the one calling the shots. That's all we've got. I have nothing on Harrison."
A corner of a piece of paper had been sticking out of the glove compartment the entire time she'd been in the car. She opened the compartment, surprised to see that it was a note addressed to her and Jack, aka Fred and Samantha Reed. The paper was crumpled. A number was scrawled across the center: 1TRR597. On the other side of the paper was a note from Brooklynn. Adam forgot to tell you that he wrote down the license plate number of a car that pulled up to the lab in San Diego while you were inside. It was a dark blue Camry. The driver never got out of his car and he took off before the police came. Thought maybe the license number might be helpful. Brooklynn.
"Looks like we have one more lead."
"What is it?"
"It appears Adam wrote down the license plate number of a second car that came to the lab the other night. Apparently, the car sped off before the police came."
Jack raked his fingers through his hair. "I need to think. There has to be somebody at the agency, somebody who can help us." He took the note from her, folded it, and shoved it in his pants pocket. "We have numbers and names, but we need answers. I can't put any more people in danger."
"Auntie will help us," Kate said. "I know she will. She's all we've got left. She'll know what to do. We can use your computer to learn more about Ben Sheldon, or whatever his name is, and Roger Cott. If you can get us to Sh.o.r.eline Drive in Santa Barbara, I think I can pinpoint exactly where she lives, a.s.suming she hasn't moved in the last ten years."
"I thought you and your parents were from New York?"
"Before we moved to New York, we lived in Santa Barbara and spent at least one weekend out of every month at the Kramer house. She was like family. I called her 'Auntie,' remember?"
"I'll get off at the next exit," Jack said. "We'll grab a map and something to eat."
Jack came out of the restroom and saw Kate in the front of the line at Burger Pit.
"I counted the money," Kate said when he approached. "We have less than two hundred dollars left."
"We'll need most of it for gas, but it should be enough to get us through the next couple of days. After that," Jack added, "we might have to rob a bank."
Her head snapped up, her eyes wide.
"Kidding."
"Funny."
"Get me a hamburger and fries, will you? I'm going to run across the street to the gas station and buy a map."
Kate nodded.
Ten minutes later, with map in hand, Jack crossed over the two-lane street back toward the hamburger place. It would be dark soon. He noticed a woman standing in the parking lot. She peered closely at the license plate on the back of the Mustang. The woman looked from left to right before running into the market next to the hamburger place.
d.a.m.n. The bag with the disc was in the car. He hurried over to the Mustang and s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag from the backseat. He didn't bother shutting the door or looking about to see if anyone was watching. He needed to get Kate and get out of here.
Jack pushed through the gla.s.s door to the Burger Pit and saw Kate holding a bag of food in one hand and a drink holder in the other. A biker he'd noticed pulling into the parking lot a few cars ahead of them was talking to her. As he approached, Jack noticed that Kate did not look pleased with whatever the biker was telling her.
The biker was a few inches shorter than Jack, but what he lacked in height he made up for in width. His shoulders were hulkish. His head was cleanly shaven, leaving a smooth s.h.i.+ne. His nose crooked from too many bar fights.
"Is there a problem?" Jack asked the man.
"No," Kate said, turning toward Jack. "This is Headbanger. He was just offering me a ride on his Harley and I told him I had a ride."
A low guttural sound came out of Headbanger's mouth as he let his
Purposefully, yet gently, Jack moved Kate to his right.
As he stepped toward the biker, adrenaline coursed through his veins. Using an old college wrestling move, he flipped the big guy onto the ground and jabbed a knee to his side. Just to be clear as to where he stood and because he'd ran out of patience two days ago, Jack whipped out his gun and held the barrel to Headbanger's temple.
Somebody screamed.
A father at the end of the line gathered his children and pushed them to the ground.
A woman and her friend ran from the restaurant.
Although Jack would never do it, he felt an incredible urge to pull the trigger. He was tired of running, tired of being on the wrong side of the law, and tired of dealing with guys like Headbanger.
"Jack," Kate said. "Let's go."
Ignoring her, Jack said to the man, "You picked the wrong day to screw with me, pal. Never mind that I'm on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list, I've had a real s.h.i.+tty day and so I'd appreciate it if you apologized to the lady. Understand?"
The man's face had lost all color, but he did manage a nod despite having his face squished against the dirty floor.
"Good. Now say you're sorry."
A meek apology followed.
Jack was about to stand when he glanced out the large paned window and spotted three more people standing around the Mustang. Bending back down, Jack said, "Changed my mind. That wasn't good enough. Give me the keys to your bike and maybe I'll let you live."
Headbanger dug into his pocket and handed Jack his keys.
Jack stood, tucked the gun back into his waistband, and then took the food and drinks from Kate and set them on the nearest table. Grabbing Kate's hand, he pulled her toward the door.
"What's going on?"
"There's a swarm of good Samaritans standing around the Mustang. My face is probably on every news station across the country by now." Jack exited the Burger Pit with Kate at his side, fully aware that most of the patrons who witnessed the confrontation would more than likely join the people surrounding the Mustang.
The sun had gone down, but the floodlights lining the parking area lit up the place. Once again, sirens sounded in the distance. "Don't look toward the Mustang," he told Kate. "I can see Headbanger's bike from here. When we get there, climb on and hang on tight because something tells me we don't have much time."
As they pulled out of the parking lot, three squad cars in a straight line pa.s.sed by, sirens blaring and lights swirling. The noise drowned out Headbanger's shouts as he exited Burger Pit and ran across the parking lot, heading in their direction.
Jack kept a steady unhurried pace until they could no longer see the police cars. As soon as Kate wrapped her arms around his waist, he revved the engine and took off.
Another day, another time, this could have been one h.e.l.l of a ride. The wind whipped through his hair and something about having a thousand pound hog between his thighs made him want to pop a nose wheelie as he maneuvered around a tight spot. Instead, he kept the bike riding smooth and steady and decided he'd have to think of other ways to give Kate a thrill. A couple of ideas popped into his mind.
It wasn't long before they reached a residential area. Jack slowed. They drove around the neighborhood for a few minutes before he spotted an older model Volkswagen Beetle. Perfect. Although he wasn't proud of it, back in the day, when he was too young to be driving, he and his friend used to hotwire his friend's sister's VW and take it for a ride.
Pulling the Harley to the side of the road, Jack cut off the power and motioned for Kate to wait on the bike. It was dark now and the street was quiet.
He trotted across the road and quietly unhitched the hood of the VW. After fiddling with some wires, he opened the car door and popped the trunk. He figured his luck was changing when he spotted a couple of a.s.sorted tools under the hood. He grabbed a screwdriver and used it to bypa.s.s the ignition system, connecting the coil to the battery. The engine started just as he knew it would. Gently, he closed the engine cover, walked around the car, set down the screwdriver and quietly shut the bonnet.
He motioned for Kate to get in the car.
A dog barked. A front porch light lit up the lawn area a few houses down. Kate slid into the pa.s.senger seat. Without waiting for her to buckle up, Jack made a U-turn and drove off at a steady twenty-five miles per hour. "The switch should buy us enough time to get to Santa Barbara."
When she didn't answer, he looked at her, surprised to see her staring at him as if he'd grown horns.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"No, not really. Sometimes you just surprise me, that's all."
"In a good way I hope?"
She smiled. "Yes, in a good way. A very good way."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
"Stop the car. This is it. It looks like Auntie has added a few square feet to the house since I was here last. But this is definitely the house."
Jack pulled over and stared out at the long gated driveway. Unlike Kate, who was animated and ready for action, Jack was exhausted, his eyelids heavy. "Do you ever get tired?" he asked. "I mean really tired?"
She kept her gaze on the house on the hill. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in so long I wouldn't know what it felt like to be anything but tired. Come on, let's do this. If Auntie can help us, we might finally get some answers."
Jack had turned off the headlights a few blocks back. Now he turned off the ignition. The window was rolled down and all he heard was the not too distant sound of the breakers cras.h.i.+ng the beach.
Kate reached behind Jack's seat for the bag of items she'd bought at a superstore over an hour ago. She pulled out two packages of day old steak and a bottle of sleeping pills. "Auntie is fond of Doberman Pinschers. They always scared the h.e.l.l out of me."
"Why don't we ring the bell at the gate?"
"She thinks I'm dead. She'll never believe it's me. If she's been watching the news and knows I'm alive, she'll know I'm with you-a wanted man. I don't want Auntie or anyone else to call the police before I've had a chance to talk with her in person. I know where her bedroom is. We just have to get past the dogs."
Using a plastic knife to make slits in the meat, Kate made quick work of shoving three or four pills into each slot. When that was done, she opened the car door, ready to climb out.
"I'll feed the dogs," Jack told her.
She huffed, and for a moment there Jack figured he was going to get a lecture, but then her features softened. "How about we both go?"
There was no arguing with her, so he nodded and climbed out of the car. He had to hand it to her. For someone who had spent the last ten years in a place like Haiti, hiding from the world and being on her own, she'd handled her return to the States with great strength. She hadn't missed a beat when the Matthews kids showed up. She rolled with the punches. She was used to doing things her way, and yet his instincts told him she was beginning to trust him.
"Come on," she said, gesturing for him to follow her across the street and up a steep orchard of avocado and citrus trees. The long driveway separated the orchard from the handcrafted iron and stone fencing surrounding the house.
Jack checked the mailbox and saw the name Kramer on the side. He wanted to make sure Kate's Auntie hadn't moved.
He kept close to Kate as they went. Thanks to the moonlight and the muted lights dotting the estate, he could see all the way to the top of the hill where a majestic two-story mansion sat, complete with stone pillars and well maintained gardens. He didn't have to see the ocean to know that the estate overlooked the ocean on the other side. Over the sweet smell of ripened citrus, he caught the fresh scent of the Pacific Ocean. Beyond the tall fencing were lawns, gardens, and meandering stone paths leading to the entrance of the house.
Standing in the shadows, Jack looked about for any signs of Doberman Pinschers. Not a dog in sight. Following that thought came a low menacing growl from the other side of the fence. Never mind. Definitely dogs. He didn't like dogs. Barney was one thing, cute and loveable, but going one on one with a Doberman was something else entirely. Dobermans were muscular and compact. Their bodies were made for endurance and speed. "How many dogs did she used to have?" he asked.
"Three," Kate whispered.
"And the last time you saw the dogs was ten years ago?" Jack winced. "Do dogs live that long?" She ignored his question, since they both knew it was highly likely these weren't the same dogs Kate had played with when she was small.
Kate placed two good-sized chunks of raw meat in his hand. "They really are friendly dogs. You just have to be careful not to surprise them. How good is your aim?"
"I was a decent baseball pitcher in high school." He lowered his voice. "I could throw a mean 92 mph fastball. It's all about using the lower body to create more-"
"Okay, big shot," she whispered. "Throw the meat and don't hit the iron rail or somebody's going to have to go over there and get it."
Jack did a few stretches before he started to wind up.
"Jack," she said, exasperated.
"Okay, okay. Do you want this done right the first time or do you want me to lose my arm to a Doberman because you made me lose my concentration?"
One of the dogs caught sight of their shadow and barked.
"Just do whatever you have to and throw the d.a.m.n meat."
Jack stretched again and aimed for one of the three-inch s.p.a.ces separating one rail from another.