Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (21 page)

We rushed into the living room, but they are already onto the next story. Mac flipped the channels and landed on one of the local stations, just as our pictures flashed onto the screen.

Jonas took top billing, being a Little Rock detective, tragically killed during a rescue attempt. Trinity and I had apparently been trapped in the blaze, which had spread to the adjoining condos, resulting in the additional death of homeowner, Julian Hayes. I cocked an eye at Mac. Poor Julian. So much for finding love and living happily ever after.

We watched as they got comments from some of the surviving neighbors, and a statement from the police about Jonas’ record with the department. When they cut to the weather, Mac grabbed the remote and the screen went blank.
 

“Well, at least you died a hero, Jonas. Taylor and I were apparently too stupid to run out of a burning building,” Trinity said, sarcasm dripping from each word. “Julian, what can I say, except that photo did not do you justice.”

I looked over at her in surprise. It was the most she’d said since she’d come back inside and I took it as a positive sign that she was getting some of her sass back. Coming clean about the gold with Jonas and me probably had a lot to do with that. Mama D announced she was going to go try to get some more sleep, and Trinity decided to join her, leaving Jonas, Mac and me alone in the room. I waited until they had disappeared down the hall to voice my question.

“Just how do four dead men become two dead women and a couple of dead guys?” I asked. “What happened to the three Mac got outside the condo?”

“That agency you work for powerful enough to have fingers in this, Mac?” Jonas wanted to know.

“Worked for, Jonas. Past tense. And you have no idea how powerful they are.”

I was afraid we were going to find out.

TWENTY

WE MADE OUR plans for moving the gold over lunch. Getting in and out of the bank without raising red flags was the main problem. Having been declared dead, at least the police weren’t looking for us, but it also meant that even if we could get Trinity into the bank without being seen, she’d never make it into the vault past security. Not with her recent demise being the breaking news and as recognizable as she was.
 

The only other person with access to the box was Mama D. The very thought of sending her in gave me the chills, but we were out of options. It was either that or leave the gold behind and neither Trinity or Mama D were willing to do that.
 

It took us about two hours, but we managed to pull together what I thought was a pretty good plan. Mac’s contact was in nearby Hot Springs and not only was he good at moving money around, he apparently was a whiz bang at making fake ID’s. I couldn’t help but think how incredibly convenient that was when Mac told us about it. I could only hope that this psychic sense thing that told me Mac could be trusted was dead on the money or I was going to be extremely put out.

We’d get the new id’s, then Mac and I would go into the bank, disguised of course. Mac was handling that portion and I could hardly wait to see what he would do, what with all the talent he had in that arena. Trinity and Jonas were just too difficult to conceal, so they would be stationed outside. Mama D would go in, retrieve the gold and get out. Just that simple, except for one little thing.

Gold weighs a lot. I don’t care what you see in the movies, those guys are not carrying a bag of gold bars. Jonas had put pen to paper and figured out that a half million in gold at today rates, would weigh in at 15-20 pounds and that was after gold had soared in price. Depending on the going rate when Trinity had figured the total, it could easily be 30 pounds or more. It didn’t seem like that much, but 30 pounds of compact weight that you’re trying to hide, is vastly different from a 30 pound child slung over your hip.
 

“There’s no way Gram could walk with that kind of weight, and what if something goes wrong? How do we get her out fast?” Trinity and Mama D were doing the dishes and Mac was busy putting them away. Jonas and I were at the table pouring over his notes, trying to figure out a way to get Mama D in and out with the gold without much success.

“Too bad we can’t just slap some wheels on it and roll it out.” I threw my pencil on the table and watched it roll along, stopping just short of disappearing over the edge. I was tired, frustrated and worried. It would be so much easier to just forget the whole thing, but there was a part of me, deep down, that said that was the wrong thing to do. We just hadn’t hit on the answer yet.
 

I finally noticed that everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at me.
 

“What?” I asked totally clueless. I thought back over what I had just said and it finally hit me. We
could
just roll it out.

WE DECIDED TO hit the bank mid-afternoon the next day, missing the lunch crowd. With any luck, whoever was watching would be tired by then and not paying close attention. There was no question in my mind that they would be watching. Other than turning something up on Mac’s cabin, which was highly unlikely considering all the precautions he’d taken, their only way of locating us was to watch the places we might turn up. Right now, they had no way of knowing if we had left town or not. That was all about to change.

Within minutes, we were heading south, on our way to Hot Springs and Mac’s contact to get the new ID’s. Mama D would use her real name to get into the vault and then switch to her new identity. Mac had already taken care of my new paperwork, in the event we had to run, but I needed some form of id in case of a problem at the bank and he didn’t want to use my new id for that.
 

I watched out the window as the Arkansas countryside slid by with a heavy heart. In a matter of hours, we would be leaving the state and odds were good, I’d never be back.
 

Mac turned onto Highway 5, the old back way into the Springs and as we neared the East Gate to Hot Springs Village, where Keith and I had lived, memories came flooding in. I had loved the drive home. After running after bad guys and seeing the seedier side of life during the day, driving the 40 minutes home, through the winding, wooded hillsides was the highlight of my day. About halfway home from Little Rock, the two-lane highway twisted around, through a grove of trees, their branches stretched over the road. As you came around the last curve you passed the overlook of the long valley spread out below, surrounded by mountains. If I got lucky and hit the overlook right at sunset, the sight was breathtaking.
 

I hadn’t seen that view in over six months. A stark reminder that this was no longer my way home. I thought back over everything that happened in the past year. Loosing Keith had been devastating, and the past few days had been nothing, if not brutal. Everything had changed. Everything was different now.

As we passed the turn off into the Village, I felt hot tears sting my eyes. This was the last time I would be here. In a matter of minutes, I would become someone other than Taylor Morrison. Considering everything that had happened, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing.
 

Lost in thought, we were in Hot Springs before I knew it. Looking up, I saw we were on Central Avenue, the famous bath houses lining the road on one side, while local shops, filled with tourists crowded the other. Our goal was the mall at the other end of town. If I had been paying attention, I could have directed Mac to take the cutoff through Gulpha Gorge and bypassed the congestion, but I’d missed my chance and now here we sat stuck in traffic.

“What is that, in front of me?” Mac asked, impatiently. “Is that a duck? Because it looks like a giant duck, and it’s full of people.”

I leaned over at his question to see around Jonas, who was sitting in the passenger seat, his big frame blocking any view to the front. Sure enough, we were behind a Duck Tour. The huge amphibious vehicles cruised from the Bath house area over to lake where, to the delight of the tourists, they plowed into the water for a boat tour of the area.

“It’s fine, Mac. They keep up with traffic. You can’t see, but there’s a line of cars in front of them, holding things up. There’s usually a tie up here.” Tapping the steering wheel with impatience, he didn’t look too convinced. “I’m surprised you don’t know that, seeing as how you’ve been following me for years and your contact is here.”

“I don’t follow you. I just keep tabs. And no, I’ve never been here. I don’t come to him, he comes to me. Today is an exception.”

“Funny, your covert contact is here in the Springs, Mac. Kind of ironic really.”

“Why?” he asked, catching my eye in the rear view as he inched slowly forward.

“Covert operative, spy, whatever, he is, he’s located in what used to be the biggest den of iniquity in the States. I find that sort of amusing.”

At his incredulous look Trinity began to fill him in on Hot Springs’ notorious past. Mama D even pitched in a few details. Most of the tourists came to see the bath houses, famous at the turn of the century, known for the healing power of the hot mineral water. People had come from all over the world for treatments. Franklin Roosevelt and Babe Ruth were known to frequent the bath houses. It was the gambling dens and the moonshine, though that attracted the likes of Al Capone and Bugsy Malone.
 

Few people realized that when Las Vegas was just a speck of dust in someone’s imagination, Hot Springs, Arkansas was the place to see and be seen. At one time there were more than ten casinos in the town, the mob so ensconced that the governor had to bring in a task force to shut them down. Now the only gambling was at Oaklawn Park, a premiere horse racing facility, smack dab in the heart of Central Arkansas and another place to expect traffic problems. Mac was going to have to drive right past it. He was going to be thrilled, I was sure.
 

The traffic had finally cleared and we were fast approaching the race course. In season, you could sometimes catch a glimpse of the field making the final turn into the stretch as you passed, but this afternoon the track lay empty.
 

I had never gone to the races. I’d driven by, even sat in the parking lot on a few mornings, when I was early for an appointment and watched them take the horses out for exercise and training, but I’d never actually attended. Funny how things like that happen. You think you have all the time in the world, but then opportunity passes and you realize you missed half the stuff you planned to do.

Morose. I was becoming morose. First I was tearing up and now I was bemoaning not going to the horse races. I didn’t even really like horse racing. I caught Mac watching me in the rear view mirror again and I made a face at him, which I admit was childish, but it sent his eyes back to the road where they belonged. I really needed to talk to him and get some things straightened out. I highly suspected that the Watchers weren’t without their own form of psychic power. Why would you send an unarmed man into a gunfight, right?

Within minutes, we had arrived at the Hot Springs Mall. It wasn’t big, as malls go, but it had a Sears, a JCPenny’s and most importantly, a Dillards. Trinity, Mama D and Jonas had instructions to pick up clothes and any other necessities for the road. Trinity had changed her hair, left off her makeup and was in jeans and a shirt, the tails hanging loose. The difference from her normal appearance of tailored professional was amazing. I barely recognized her.
 

“Try to stay out of Dillards,” I cautioned as she hopped out of the van, knowing full well that would be the first place she’d head for.. Full of designer clothing, it was her favorite store. She threw an evil smile at me as she swung her $800 hobo bag up on her shoulder and walked off with Mama D in tow.
 

I was much more worried about Jonas. With his size and looks, he really stood out, even with the dark glasses and hat Mac had given him. If anything, they made him stand out even more, only now he looked like some large scary hoodlum instead of a large scary cop. Mac had given him instructions on what to buy to blend in more. I had doubts Jonas would ever blend in, but I was curious to see what he came up with.
 

We arranged to meet them back at the entrance in two hours. Not much shopping time for Trinity, but then Mac had only given her a couple thousand to outfit the three of them, so I figured she’d be cooling her heels by the time we got back.
 

“Don’t worry,” Mac said, as I watched them walk away. “They’ll be fine. Jonas can take of them.”
 

He was right, I was worried. This was the first time we had been separated since the attack and they were walking around in the open in a mall. For whatever reason, his assurance rubbed me the wrong way, serving to remind me of my intent to talk to him. As Mac turned onto Central, heading to meet his contact, I decided it was the perfect time.

“You have something else you need to tell me, Mac?” I asked, the irritation I felt evident in my voice. “Because I’m thinking maybe you left out a few things.”

I saw his hands tighten on the wheel and when he didn’t immediately answer, I felt my anger start to build. Apparently he felt it too.

“Hold on, hold on. Let me get off the road so we can talk.” He swerved the van into a Sonic drive-in at the last minute and pulled into a space between two other cars. Putting the van into park, he left it running, the windows up for privacy.
 

“What do you want to know?” he asked calmly.