Finding Kate Huntley (10 page)

The man’s gloved hand grabbed hold of the door handle before she could reach it first. The man bent forward, one hand on his knee as he stooped over to catch his breath. The pungent smell of cigar breath made her nauseous.

Summoning the last bit of strength left in her body, she brought her right knee up hard and fast, straight into his nose.

Cursing, the man fell to the ground and covered his face with his hands.

She opened the car door. Her hands shook. The keys jangled and dropped to the pavement. Leather fingers gripped her ankle. She tried to kick him, but he was stronger than he looked, and she was dragged to the ground. Scrambling to her knees, she struggled to get back to her feet, but her body went limp with exhaustion. She was losing blood; she could feel the liquid heat squished across her back beneath her shirt. The last sound she heard was a horrible suctioning noise as the man pulled the blade from her back before plunging it deep into her side.

Chapter 13

Jack leaned against a finely carved horse on the carousel as he kept an eye out for A.J., hoping his friend received his message. At speeds of over 80 mph, he’d made good time getting to the park. A breeze rustled the dead leaves scattered about the park. The night was cool, the air fresh. It took Jack a moment to make out the dark shape heading toward him. He clasped a hand over his customized 1911A1 9mm, a gun he liked for its mild recoil, and yet made no attempt to ready the weapon. Chances were good that it was A.J.

“Is that you?” A.J. called out.

Jack stepped away from the merry-go-round and greeted his friend. “Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure if you would get my message at such a late hour but I thought I’d give it a whirl.”

“Becky and I don’t usually get to sleep before two in the morning. I figured it must be important if you were heading all this way. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been so focused on Kate and keeping her safe, I haven’t had much time to think about who was trying to frame me for murder or why. Now that I’ve had a few moments to think about things, I’m beginning to get fired up and ticked off. I want some answers. I figured tonight was as good as any to get started.”

A.J. crossed his arms over his chest. “So what do you have in mind?”

“I want to talk to Conrad.”

“Really? Why Conrad?”

“Before I left for Haiti, I saw him talking with Harrison on more than one occasion. Last night I read on the FBI’s homepage that he’d been promoted.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, I figured you would have mentioned it if you’d heard.”

A.J. shook his head. “The funny thing is...I saw Harrison talking to Monahan at the AIDS fundraiser Becky and I attended recently. I found that odd. When I approached them, Monahan backed off immediately. Harrison played it cool.”

“Monahan and Conrad,” Jack ground out. “The combination makes no sense...unless Harrison is using them in some way.” Jack released air through his teeth. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind taking a little ride with me to Conrad’s place, shake him up a little and see what he has to say about all of this.”

“If he’s clean, I could end up in as much trouble as you’re in already,” A.J. said.

“Yeah, that’s why I brought a couple of ski masks from your sister’s place. I’ll do all the talking so he won’t be able to positively identify you. In fact, if you’d rather stay in the background, I’m good with that.”

“Are you kidding me? And miss out on all the fun? The guy has been a thorn in my side since the day he stepped into our unit. And now he thinks he’s going to take my promotion and get away with it? I don’t think so.”

“We’ll use the truck,” Jack said. “If all goes smoothly, we’ll have you back in bed with your bride-to-be in a few hours.”

“Yeah, she’s not happy about this, you know. Second night in a row I’ve crept off in the middle of the night. I wouldn’t be surprised if she called the wedding off.”

Jack looked over at him. His friend appeared genuinely concerned. “What happened to the guy who was so afraid of being tied down by the old ball and chain?”

“That guy grew up. The idiot opened his eyes one day and realized he had the girl of his dreams sleeping beside him. The idea of waking up without her right there next to him made him sick to his stomach. That’s what happened to that guy. He finally grew up.”

“That’s great.” A silver lining amidst all the bullshit raining down around him, Jack thought. “I’m happy for both of you.”

It wasn’t long before Jack pulled the truck to the side of the road and shut off the engine. “Conrad’s house is the third house on the right.”

“A nice neighborhood for a single guy from the Bronx.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Jack handed A.J. a ski mask and pulled the other one over his head. Then he grabbed the roll of duct tape he’d brought and climbed out of the truck.

Using a pick and tension wrench, it took A.J. all of three minutes to get Conrad’s front door unlocked. The neighborhood was exceptionally quiet, and the inside of Conrad’s house wasn’t any different. No background noises from appliances or fans.

They looked around in the dark to see if they could find a silent alarm, anything that might tip Conrad off as to their late night visit. So far, so good. No alarms, no dogs.

Although he wasn’t a decorator by any means, Jack knew the difference between fine crystal and plate glass, and he could spot an antique a mile away. Conrad’s house boasted fine crystal and antiques. As A.J. followed Jack across the front room and up the stairs, the carpeted floors helped to muffle their footsteps. Neither of them said a word.

Jack’s anger at being framed for murder overshadowed the surreal realization that he was wearing a mask and breaking and entering. As they reached the landing, Jack held out a hand and pointed to the first door to the right, letting A.J. know he was going to stop and check the room out. Slowly, his fingers curled around the doorknob, careful to take his time and make as little noise as possible as he opened the door. The room was littered with junk: stacks of plastic bins, files, office supplies. Nobody there.

Jack left the door ajar and headed for the room at the end of the hallway. The door was open, and he could hear snoring. Jack used a gloved hand to edge the door wider. His eyes had adjusted to the dark a while ago. A king-sized bed filled a good portion of the room. The substantial lump under the covers told Jack they had found Conrad.

Jack felt a tap on his shoulder. A.J. handed him a tiny glass bottle filled with ether. Jack left his gun in his waistband and headed across the room toward the left side of the bed. He removed the lid from the glass vial and carefully set it on the bedside table. He put his thumb over the top of the vial to keep the ether from spilling.

Conrad slept on his back. Before Conrad had a chance to wake up, A.J. held Conrad’s arms and chest against the mattress while Jack grabbed a fistful of Conrad’s hair with his left hand and shoved the open vial up his nostril. Conrad’s eyes opened, but he didn’t have a fighting chance before his head fell limp onto the pillows.

“Look at him,” Jack said to A.J. noting Conrad’s swollen nose and black eye. “From the looks of it, he’s been in a bar fight recently.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” A.J. said. “I can’t say I’ve ever met a more annoying man.”

“Where did you get the ether?”

“I was a Boy Scout, remember? BE PREPARED.”

They had little time before the effects of the ether would wear off, so they left the small talk behind and worked quickly and efficiently. By the time Conrad woke, the bedroom light was on and they had Conrad’s waist and feet duct taped to a spindled back chair that A.J. had found in another room. Jack couldn’t find anything to put over Conrad’s eyes, so he’d wrapped duct tape around his head and over his eyes. As he regained consciousness, Conrad struggled to get loose. The chair nearly tipped over.

“Don’t make me shove the vial up your nose again, Conrad.”

Conrad’s head jerked upward as he tried to see who was in the room. “Who’s there? What do you want?”

“Tell me what I want to know and you’ll be back in bed snoring away before I can count to fifty.”

Conrad growled, banging his body around until the chair finally toppled over. He muttered and cursed until Jack had had enough. He opened the vial and waved it under Conrad’s nose.

Five minutes later, the chair was upright again and duct taped to one of the bedposts so Conrad would stay stationary.

A.J. stood off to the side and watched, arms crossed in front of him.

“I work for the FBI, asshole,” Conrad said. Drool slid down the left side of his mouth. “You’re going to prison, my friend, and I’ll be paying you a visit every day for the rest of your short life just so I can remind you that you don’t fuck with the FBI.”

Jack and A.J. had both removed their masks. Jack looked at A.J. and pretended to shake in his boots at Conrad’s words. A.J. smiled and gave Conrad the finger.

“Do you want to chatter away the rest of the morning or do you want to hear why I’m paying you a visit?”

“Is that you, Coffey?” Conrad laughed. “It is you,” he said as if he could see him through two layers of tape. “You fucking pea-brained idiot. I could smell your prissy little ass a mile away. You’re already wanted for murder, so I guess you figure you have nothing to lose, is that right?”

Judging by the expression on A.J.’s face, his friend wanted to kick Conrad in the nuts and then hang him by the ears...and not necessarily in that order.

Jack put up a hand to keep A.J. at bay for a moment longer. He knew A.J. could be a hothead back in his day, but it had been a long time since college, and until now Jack had forgotten about A.J.’s tendency to react impetuously.

“Listen, Conrad,” Jack went on. “I want to know what you, Harrison, and Monahan are up to. What’s with the boys’ club? What do you three have to talk about when nobody else is around to hear you?”

Conrad spit across the room, just missing Jack’s leg.

A twitch set in Jack’s jaw. The man was getting on his nerves in a big way. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

“That’s how it’s going to be, asshole. We both know you don’t have the balls to go through with whatever you might have planned, so let me go and I’ll put in a good word for you. Maybe get a year or two off your life sentence.”

Jack rubbed his fingers over his chin. “Well, Conrad, the funny thing is you might have been right about me a week ago, but there’s something about being shot at and framed for a murder you didn’t commit that changes the way a guy thinks. I didn’t think I’d need to torture you to get information out of you, but as you’ve pointed out, what do I have to lose?”

Jack nodded, prompting A.J. to step forward and press the barrel of his gun against Conrad’s temple.

Conrad paled the moment the gun made contact with his head. “What’s going on? Who’s here with you?”

Jack stepped closer, too, and put the barrel of his gun to the other side of Conrad’s head. “Unfortunately for you, Conrad, I do have balls. I also have friends.”

“What do you want to know?” Conrad asked through gritted teeth.

“Whose idea was it to frame me?”

“I don’t know.”

Jack pushed his gun hard against Conrad’s head. “Who killed Dr. Forstin?”

“I don’t know.”

A.J. pulled the trigger back, making a loud click.

“I d-don’t know,” Conrad said. “H-Harrison thinks all the answers to Forstin’s murder might be on a disc.”

“What disc?”

“Forstin’s wife said her husband bought a surveillance camera, but nothing turned up when the forensic team scoured the lab for evidence.”

For the first time since Jack learned he was wanted for murder, he felt hope building inside his chest, honest to God hope that there might be some hard-core evidence out there proving that he was an innocent man. If Forstin had the foresight to install a camera, then there could be evidence that could clear Jack’s name.

With a new plan in mind, Jack went to the table by the bed and picked up Conrad’s cell phone. “You’re going to tell Harrison I have the disc he wants and that in exchange for the disc I want a letter from him stating my innocence. Tell him he has thirty minutes to get to the phone booth at the bus station on Walnut Avenue in Glendale. Tell him I’ll be waiting inside the booth with the disc and that he better come alone. No letter, no disc.”

Jack took a deep breath and began dialing.

Holding the barrel of his gun to Conrad’s head, A.J. nodded, letting Jack know he was doing the right thing.

“If you don’t do as I’ve instructed,” Jack told Conrad, “I’m going to walk out of here and leave you alone with my friend to figure things out.”

Jack dialed Harrison’s private number, hit the green call button, and held the phone to Conrad’s ear.

Chapter 14

“Shit!” Harrison clicked his phone shut without bothering to say goodbye. The room was spinning. He rubbed his eyes.

Sheila rolled over in bed and pulled her black silk eye cover to her forehead. “Who was that, honey?”

Harrison slid his legs over the side of the bed and slipped his feet into the slippers on the floor. “Go back to sleep. I have to take care of a few things.”

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s nearly four o’clock in the morning.”

“I realize that, darling. It can’t be helped.” He headed for the bathroom where he placed his cell phone on the marble counter. He leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He straightened. His reflection stared back at him. He’d aged. In the past week alone, he’d added ten years’ worth of lines to his face.
What the fuck was he doing?

Exhausted, it took him another fifteen minutes just to get dressed. Harrison’s hands were shaking. He didn’t get nervous. Calm down, he told himself. It was Jack he was dealing with. Jack Coffey was nothing more than a rookie, a cyber-stalker who hid behind a computer screen on most days. The kid was green around the gills. Jack believed there were more good people in the world than bad; he spent most days looking through rose-colored glasses. Harrison shook his head. Nice guys finished last. End of story.

From inside the walk-in closet, Harrison could see the bed and rumpled pillow where his head should be right now. He considered climbing back into bed and letting Conrad deal with Jack and his friend. Conrad was disposable. But Conrad had said over the phone that Jack had the disc Harrison wanted and that he was going to take it to the police if Harrison didn’t come for it personally. In return, Jack wanted a signed letter from Harrison stating his innocence.

Why would Jack bring him the disc if it would prove his innocence? According to Patrick Monahan, the investigative team had thoroughly searched Forstin’s lab in San Diego. Henry Gates assured Monahan there was no surveillance camera...which meant there was no disc.

But what if?

Forstin’s wife had said her husband purchased a surveillance camera. Why would she say that if he hadn’t? And if Forstin had purchased a camera, wouldn’t he use it? None of this camera bullshit made any sense. And until he checked it out himself and knew for sure, he couldn’t take any chances. He had no choice but to drive to the bus station at the corner of Cerritos and Walnut and find out what Coffey was up to. He wanted nothing more than to call in the Crime Unit to cuff Coffey and bring him in...if only he could be sure of what Coffey had or didn’t have. If there was any chance at all that Jack Coffey had a video disc from the night of Forstin’s murder, then he had no choice but to meet with Jack.

Tired of playing games, Harrison grabbed his Glock from inside its case next to his perfectly shined shoes and shoved the gun into the holster under his coat. Inflamed, he left the room without giving Sheila a second glance. If it weren’t for her extravagant spending, he wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.

“You’re never going to get away with this Jack, so you might as well tell me who your friend is. You don’t want to spend all that time in prison alone, do you?”

A.J. sat in the passenger seat and Conrad sat snug between the two of them. Ignoring Conrad’s irritating voice, Jack put the truck in park, then reached over and pulled the baseball cap lower over the duct tape covering Conrad’s eyes. Not that anybody would see him. It was five in the morning. It was still dark.

A.J. ripped off another piece of duct tape and plastered it over Conrad’s big mouth before he stepped out of the truck and pulled Conrad out with him. Conrad had on a coat over his pajamas so if anyone happened to drive by he wouldn’t look suspicious. Just three guys heading for the bus stop a few hours early.

Conrad’s hands were duct taped behind him as A.J. ushered him toward the telephone booth. There weren’t too many telephone booths in existence any longer. This one was in bad shape: cracked windows and the inside smelled like it had been used as a urinal.

Jack shoved Conrad inside the booth and duct taped his legs together so he wouldn’t be able to get away. At least not until Harrison came for him.

Beneath the tape covering his mouth, Conrad muttered a string of words until his face turned red. Jack removed part of the tape from his mouth so he could speak.

“Where are we?” Conrad asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You’re going to leave me here?”

“Just be glad I didn’t throw you into the river. If Harrison wants that disc, he’ll come sooner rather than later and you’ll be back home in bed before you can recite the first few lines of the United States Constitution. You remember how that goes, right?”

“You’re not going to get away with this, Coffey. If the director of the FBI doesn’t come after you himself, I will.”

“Ah, back to being cocky, huh? Funny how things change when you don’t have a gun pointed at your head.”

“Like I said before,” Conrad spit out, “You’re a fuck—”

Jack slapped more tape across his mouth and shut the door to the phone booth. A.J. used the pick and wrench to wedge the door closed so Conrad couldn’t get out.

For twenty minutes, they needed Conrad to stay right where he was. If Harrison showed up alone, that would tell Jack he was definitely involved in having Jack framed. If Harrison opted to bring an army of feds, then Harrison was likely innocent and truly believed Coffey was guilty of murder. Lastly, if Harrison didn’t show up at all, then he and A.J. would have to go back to square one and think of new ways to torture answers out of Conrad.

“I wonder if there really is a disc,” A.J. said as they walked back to the truck.

“No one wonders more than me,” Jack said. “If the video disc exists, I could be in the clear. Although I can’t imagine why the investigative team wouldn’t have located the camera if there was one.”

“If Harrison does come for this disc, it doesn’t prove anything,” A.J. said.

“If Harrison comes alone, it’s because he’s afraid of what might be on that disc. If he wasn’t worried, he wouldn’t bother getting out of bed at all.”

A.J. was sprawled across the back seat of the truck, his head propped high enough so he could use the rearview mirror to keep an eye on the phone booth.

Jack sat in the driver’s seat, his body tucked down low as they waited. From where they watched, they could see Conrad twisting and banging his body against the glass booth.

“He’s going to have bruises if he keeps that up,” A.J. said before he glanced at his watch. “If Harrison’s coming, he should have been here by now.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth when a dark sedan came around the corner. The windows were tinted, making it hard to see how many men were in the car.

The passenger door shot open. A man dressed in black jumped out and made a beeline for the booth. He had the door open in under thirty seconds. Another man got out of the car and pat Conrad down, most likely looking for the disc.

“Is that Harrison?” Jack asked.

A.J. peered through a pair of pocket-size binoculars. “I can’t tell.”

“How about the driver?”

“I can’t see a thing through those tinted windows.”

Conrad appeared to be putting up a fight. A muffled shot rang out. Conrad slumped forward. Both men ran back to the car, jumped inside, and the sedan took off. After the sedan sped by, A.J. sat up, the palms of his hands planted on the front seat. “Are you going to go after them?”

“In this heap of scrap metal?” Jack stayed low and watched the car disappear around the bend. “We’d be better off running after them on foot.” His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. This didn’t go as planned. He hadn’t been able to see a damn thing, and he never intended for Conrad to get hurt.

“I got the license plate,” A.J. told him. “We better get out of here.”

Jack wasn’t listening. He was already out of the truck and heading for Conrad. The bottom half of Conrad’s body was still in the booth. The upper half was sprawled across the sidewalk. Jack leaned over Conrad and pulled the duct tape from his mouth.

Blood oozed from his nose and from his abdomen onto the sidewalk. Jack placed a couple of fingers on Conrad’s neck and exerted some pressure on the artery. No pulse. Heading back for the truck, Jack climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

Neither of them said a word.

Kate. He needed to get back to Kate.