Authors: John Gilstrap
At All Costs (39 page)
He heard movement in the water and his eyes snapped open, freezing Irene in midlunge. If her foot hadn’t slipped, she might have made it.
“Don’t!” he yelled, more loudly than was prudent this late at night. His finger was half a pull away from killing her, and she seemed to know it, her full attention focused on the barrel of the pistol. “Sit down!” he commanded sharply. “Dammit, Rivers, don’t do that to me!”
She did, indeed, sit back down, and she watched as Jake struggled with his emotions. Sure as hell he’d have killed her, and from all appearances, that fact scared him nearly as much as it scared her.
A full minute passed before anyone said anything. Then he asked, “Have you seen him? Travis, I mean?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen him. He seems to be resting comfortably. They’ve got him in pediatric ICU, and he’s on a respirator, but he doesn’t seem to be in any distress.”
He considered that, then nodded to himself. “That’s good,” he said. “It’s good he’s comfortable. We can handle anything as long as he’s alive.” Another long pause followed. “Do you have children, Rivers?”
The question made her uneasy, but there seemed to be no threat in it. “Uh-huh,” she said. “Two daughters.”
He nodded again, though she wasn’t at all sure he’d heard her answer. “Kids are a hoot, aren’t they? Nothing makes you laugh as hard or cry as hard as a kid.” Again, he seemed to disappear into a distant room in his mind.
“Why are you here, Donovan?” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “No offense, but for an intelligent guy like yourself, this is a stupid place to be.”
He looked up again and chuckled. “So I’ve heard. Well, I’ll admit it seemed a much better idea when I was planning it than it did once I got here. But sooner or later, I figured I had to trust someone. You’re it. What does that tell you about my available options?”
“How did you get in?”
Get him talking about himself,
she thought, remembering her hostage negotiation training. As long as he felt like he had a friend, he’d be less likely to harm the hostage. She must have skipped the lesson on what to do when the negotiator and the hostage were the same person.
Get him talking about himself,
she thought, remembering her hostage negotiation training. As long as he felt like he had a friend, he’d be less likely to harm the hostage. She must have skipped the lesson on what to do when the negotiator and the hostage were the same person.
“You’d be surprised how many master keys they’ve got lying around the Housekeeping Department at this hour,” he said.
“That’s smart,” she said. “I’m not sure I would have thought of that.”
The comment brought a smirk to Jake’s face, and then the smirk turned to a smile and the smile to a laugh.
“What?” Clearly, she didn’t like being laughed at.
“Why, Agent Rivers, I believe you’re trying to suck up to me. Is that one of the lessons in Hostage 101?” He laughed again.
She scowled. “I don’t know—”
“Please,” he interrupted with a wave. “Spare me. If it sets your mind at ease, I don’t want anything from you except conversation, okay? If you just stay put and do what I tell you, I’ll be on my way in a little while. As you might imagine, I feel a little exposed here.” He eyed her towel and chuckled again. “Well, okay, maybe not as exposed as you, but still . . .”
She smiled in spite of herself and pulled the towel a little closer.
“So, tell me, Rivers, do you really believe that we killed all of those people back in 1983?”
Her eyes narrowed as she searched for the right answer.
He sighed. “Relax, okay? This isn’t a quiz. It’s a fact-finding mission.”
She shrugged. “Well . . . yes.”
He considered the answer. Certainly, it was no surprise. “That all makes perfect sense to you, does it? That my wife and I—neither of us with the slightest hint of a violent past—would shoot our friends, blow up half the state, and then leave a
note
?”
note
?”
She shrugged. “With all due respect, Donovan, crooks have been known to do some pretty stupid things. Zealots, in particular, have a long history of stupidity.”
“Zealots.” He said the word softly, as if testing its flavor. “So that’s what we were, huh? Zealots? I suppose the record is full of documented examples of our zealous causes? Or was this environmental thing our first?”
“Look Jake . . .”
“No, you look,
Irene,”
he pressed. “Have you found any evidence at all to substantiate this zealot crap? Registration cards for the American Nazi Party, maybe? How about—oh, damn, who was it that burned all the campuses in the sixties? —SDS, that’s it. Students for a Democratic Society. Have you found that? How about the NRA? Have you been able to dig up a single example of Carolyn or me being zealous about
anything
?”
Irene,”
he pressed. “Have you found any evidence at all to substantiate this zealot crap? Registration cards for the American Nazi Party, maybe? How about—oh, damn, who was it that burned all the campuses in the sixties? —SDS, that’s it. Students for a Democratic Society. Have you found that? How about the NRA? Have you been able to dig up a single example of Carolyn or me being zealous about
anything
?”
Irene rolled her eyes. “Come off it, Donovan. Even Fidel Castro had a first time. The evidence speaks for itself. Frankly, this little campaign of yours to dream up a conspiracy about some skeleton is kind of sad. Maybe if you’d come forward at the time, but really . . .”
He recoiled a bit at the mention of the skeleton, but then he realized that she must have interviewed Carolyn. “That proved to be a dead end,” he said. At this point, honesty could only help.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The skeleton we came after turned out to be a dog. Must have wandered in and died before any of this happened.”
Now she was really confused. “So, what—”
“But getting back to the note,” he said, gesturing with the gun as if it were an extension of his forefinger. “You’re telling me you don’t find that even a little absurd? A little
convenient
? Jesus.”
convenient
? Jesus.”
She didn’t know where this was going, so she remained silent. She figured he’d get to his point sooner or later.
“Have you investigated many arsons, Rivers?”
She shrugged with one shoulder, the abrupt change of subject putting her on edge. “My share, I suppose.”
He nodded approvingly. “I thought so. I remember seeing on television once that sometimes arson is used to cover up an entirely different crime. Has that ever been your experience?”
She regarded her visitor for a long moment before answering. “Let’s say I’ve heard similar rumors.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s say that. It wouldn’t be out of the question, then—I mean, it wouldn’t be inconceivable—if you found out that such was the case in Newark back in ’83, right?”
Irene didn’t like being cross-examined by a murderer. “The water’s getting cold, Jake. Please get to the point.”
“Fair enough.” It was time to play the Big Bluff. “Living underground as I have these past years, I’ve developed some interesting friendships with people who have access to information you wouldn’t believe.”
“And Harry Sinclair is one of them,” she interrupted.
Jake was ready for that. “Who?”
She rolled her eyes. “Right,” she groaned. “Go on.”
He shrugged it off. “Well, this information, I’ll admit, is not always put to good use, but it’s proved to be very reliable.” He paused for a reaction, got none, then moved on. “These friends have recently given me proof that your boss, Peter Frankel, was up to his elbows in illegal activities back in the early eighties . . .”
“Oh, please!” she scoffed. “I don’t even need to listen to this.”
“Hear me out,” he insisted.
She looked poised to argue but then seemed to give up. “I guess I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?”
Okay, here we go.
It was time to sell guesswork as fact.
It was time to sell guesswork as fact.
“Frankel was a senior guy in Little Rock, wasn’t he, back in ’83?”
“Are you telling me or asking me?”
“I’m trying to get you to open your mind.” Jake barked.
She smiled smugly. “Then you’re wasting your time here.”
Okay, fine. False start.
He tried again. “Well, if you do some research, you’ll find that he was in charge of the whole investigation back then. Fact is, he was senior enough to be involved in just about everything coming out of your Little Rock office.”
He tried again. “Well, if you do some research, you’ll find that he was in charge of the whole investigation back then. Fact is, he was senior enough to be involved in just about everything coming out of your Little Rock office.”
“As the supervisory agent in charge is wont to do,” she interrupted.
Bingo. Guess number one confirmed.
“Well, my people tell me that your boss knew all about the chemical warfare shit that was stored back in that magazine but had reason to keep it a secret from everybody—including
his
bosses.”
“Well, my people tell me that your boss knew all about the chemical warfare shit that was stored back in that magazine but had reason to keep it a secret from everybody—including
his
bosses.”
“And what reason might that be?” She pretended to be amused, even as a tiny light came on in her brain.
“Lots of money to be made in illegal weapons sales, you know.”
Irene’s heart skipped a beat as she recalled George Sparks’s recent mission to Iraq. To Jake, the recognition registered only as a slight tic in her right eye and a slight parting of her lips. Like a silent sigh. She said nothing, and she recovered quickly.
“So he’s having this regular yard sale out of Uncle Sam’s general store, when bingo! up pops the EPA and slaps a lock on the door. He’s cut off from his supplies, and all the evidence in the world is just sitting there waiting to convict him.”
“You’re guessing,” she hedged. “You don’t have any evidence.”
Jake was encouraged, even as she hit the nail on the head. It made too much sense for it not to be true, but he was powerless to verify anything. If he did his job right, she’d do the research for him.
“Oh, there’s evidence,” he bluffed. “You already see it in your head. I know you do. You don’t want to, but it’s there, isn’t it? If you want the same proof I have, all you have to do is look for it.”
“Where?” she pressed. “Where do I look for this earth-shattering revelation? Who do I talk to?”
“C’mon, Rivers. People can die for answering questions like that.” It was the response he’d rehearsed in the car with Nick.
Mystery masks any lack of substance.
Mystery masks any lack of substance.
She shook her head vehemently. She refused to buy into it. “Why not just blow the place up, then? Why go to all the effort to kill so many people if he was just trying to hide some evidence of missing inventory?”
Her question stopped conversation dead. Jake narrowed his eyes and allowed himself a bitter smile. “Why kill so many people . . .” He savored the words as he repeated them. “You ask that question when it’s one of your own, yet you assume simple insanity when it’s Carolyn and me. Strange, huh?”
She acknowledged the point by looking away.
“Think about it, Rivers,” Jake urged, his tone growing more insistent. “Assume for just a second that I’m telling the truth here—that Carolyn and I are innocent. Now look at the facts. If you want to truly hide a secret, it’s not enough merely to destroy it. You’ve got to provide an alternative explanation for the destruction. The last thing Frankel wanted was an open-ended investigation. Without evidence to point to someone else, the trail might very well have led back to him. As it was, he got his bad guys on the first day and got the entire episode cleared up within a couple of weeks. Because of who he was, no one questioned anything.”
Irene considered it, and the more she thought, the more frightened she looked. “How could he have known that you and Carolyn would survive? If he was planning to pin this elaborate conspiracy on you, how could he know you’d get away?”
Jake watched her for a few seconds, waiting for her to see it for herself. “The name Tony Bernard mean anything to you?” he asked.
It took her a moment to place him. “Yes. He’s one of the people killed that day. Back at the motel room.”
“And why was he back at the motel? Do you remember?” If this was going to work, she had to put some pieces together for herself.
Irene closed her eyes. She’d just reread the file that morning, but it felt like years ago. “He was sick, wasn’t he? Some stomach thing.”
Jake waited, but she still didn’t get it. “Awfully odd, don’t you think? Young man like that suddenly too sick to work, and then these murderous barbarians go all the way back to the motel just to pop him—and to leave a note?”
Irene’s eyes grew intense enough to spark a fire as the pieces fell into place. “You think that Tony Bernard was the original patsy?”
Jake smiled. “In fact, I know he was,” he lied.
“But what about his illness? There were witnesses—”
“And how tough is it to give somebody a bellyache? I saw him that morning, too. He was heaving his guts out. He thought it was something he ate. I bought it at the time, just like everybody else did. But hell, we all ate the same stuff at the same place. Why was he the only one to get sick?” He let the words settle for a few seconds. “When Carolyn and I survived, Frankel had to shift gears a little, but he stayed with essentially the same plan. I figure that Tony was killed as an insurance policy. No telling what he might have known.”
She considered it all for a moment longer. “And if you and your wife had gotten arrested, it wouldn’t have mattered a bit, would it?” she thought aloud.
“Not with the case that Frankel put together,” Jake agreed. “And the further false evidence I’m sure he would’ve found if he was pushed to the wall. Plus, when emotions run as high as they did after Newark, the standards for evidence decrease. Why scour the bushes when the answer is delivered to your door? People want a quick conviction in these things. In the end, nothing we said could have gotten us off.”
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