Never Cry Mercy (16 page)

Reese nodded, said nothing.

"Darrow had me arrested. I mean, you saw how happy Vernon was to cut me loose, right?"

She continued nodding.

"Darrow's not gonna like the fact that I'm free," I said. "He knows who I am, and what I've done, and what I can do. Once he learns I'm on the outside, all bets will be off. He'll come after me with everything he's got."

"He probably will."

"You've got to get ahold of your bureau contact, Reese. Get them to move you."

"Why?"

"You're life's in danger."

"So's yours."

"I can handle it."

"So can I." She rolled over and stood, wrapping the sheet around her chest and waist. "Let's just go, Jack."

I was tempted by the thought of leaving right that moment. What was the point of staying? I owed no living soul in the town a damn thing.

But I couldn't go. Not yet.

"I have to know," I said.

"Know what?" she said.

"Who did it. Who killed Ingrid and Herbie. And I have to hear
why
they did it. Maybe we can trace it back to Darrow."

"And if we can? Then what, Jack? You want to take him down?"

"Yes, I do. And if not me, then I'll get the right people here who can do it."

"You know it's not that simple. You won't just bring this man down, not as heavily connected as he is. And there's a good chance that whoever you contact, they'll just pick up a phone and call him. Then what are you gonna do? We might be in some small town in Texas, but Darrow has a far reach. Now, if we just go, he probably won't care. And even if he did, is he going to spend resources to track us down? Hell, he'll likely be glad we're out of his hair. But if something were to happen to him any time soon, even if we're gone, he'll know who to pin it on. Look at how easily he got your name. How many people can do that?"

"Not many."

"Exactly. Yet he had it within a day or two. Don't you get it, Jack? Doesn't matter where we go. He'll find us if he wants to. So it's best that we don't give him a reason to track us down. And think about this for a moment, too. He might not decide to go after you, but rather someone you love."

I knew she was right. I had to swallow my anger and pride on this one. Only a week ago it would have been simple to do. Darrow who?

But the bastard had made it personal.

"So why don't you call your brother, find out about your little girl, and make a plan," she said.

"You can bet your ass I'm making a plan," I said.

She stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the kitchen light. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

Chapter 37

We lay low the next morning. I drove alone across the state border to New Mexico, stopping at the first town with a drugstore. Reese stayed behind. I was surprised she let me use her car again, considering last time I drove it I abandoned it in town. Not totally my fault.

The phone I'd been using was compromised. It'd been out of my possession at the police station and couldn't be trusted. The store had two options. I went with the cheapest. It was a burner, anyway. Outside, I tossed the old phone in the trash before hopping back in the car.

I found a residential street a few blocks away. Drove down a quarter-mile, then pulled to the curb at an intersection. A couple kids sat on the front stoop of their house playing with toy cars and figures. Their voices rose and fell with the action in their game. Their mother was busy pruning a tree in the front yard. She stopped to stack the branches on the ground. Her gaze settled on the car for a second, then moved on.

Seemed a safe enough spot. I pulled out the phone, placed a call to Sean's forwarding number. He answered after a couple rings.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Was wondering when I'd hear from you. How're things?"

"About like you'd expect."

"In trouble again?"

"Pretty much. How's Mia?"

"She's doing well. Deb is great with her. Been keeping up with her studies so she doesn't fall too far behind."

"That's great. You guys stateside?"

"Nah, we're pretty well-hidden, like you wanted."

"Good. Probably smart to stay there for a while."

"That doesn't sound promising, Jack. I mean, at some point I have to return to my firm. Deb, the kids, we all have to return to our lives."

"I know, I know. Problem is I crossed paths with someone who knew Dad at one point, and he's got a thing for me now. He managed to get my name and history, all from a photo."

"Get the hell outta here. What's his name?"

"Darrow," I said. "At least that's what he goes by here. Ring a bell with you?"

"Can't say that it does. I'll check with Dad and see if he recalls anyone by that name."

"Good deal. I'm not holding my breath on it, but let me know how it goes next time I check in."

"Will do. You want me to get Mia?"

I paused for a moment. We hadn't spoken since I'd left her with Sean. And even though she hadn't been in my life long, I missed hearing that little voice. I even missed the fits she threw. From what Sean said, she seemed happy, and hearing from me might throw her off. Soon enough we'd be together. I had to rest on that.

"Not now," I said. "Give her a kiss for me, though."

"You got it, little brother."

"I'll check back in with you soon. Let you know how this turns out."

I remained parked at the corner for a few minutes after hanging up. As I watched the two boys on the stoop, I conjured up memories of myself and Sean when we were little playing like that. Back during the years when Molly was still with us, and before hormones and girls dominated our teenage lives.

The woman carried her shears up a ladder, but stopped halfway. She'd spotted me watching her kids. Probably pegged me for a deviant or something. It only took a few seconds for her to cross the yard.

"Can I help you?" she called out from the corner of her lot.

I shifted the car in gear and turned right, waving my phone as I drove by her. In the rearview I watched her pull out her cell and make a call. Cops, presumably. I wondered if she hadn't managed to get the license plate number. Wouldn't matter. Reese hadn't done anything wrong.

I continued through the next intersection, and then navigated to the main road. Five minutes later I had cleared town with nothing but open highway between me and Texline.

Or so I thought.

Chapter 38

The truck appeared out of nowhere. No squealing brakes. No blaring horn. Only the sickening crunch of metal on metal as they T-boned me on the passenger side. The car whipped clockwise into a spin. I turned into it and punched the gas. The maneuver allowed me to regain control, but the car was in no shape to go far.

The truck slammed into me again, head-on this time, ensuring that Reese's car wasn't getting out of there.

Linus glared at me from behind the wheel. Blood seeped from a wound on his forehead. He wiped it away with his sleeve. The guy in the passenger seat hopped out and disappeared from sight. I tried to locate him, but couldn't. Was he armed? Linus slammed his shoulder against his door, but it wouldn't open. He slid across the seat and went out the passenger side, dropping from my field of view.

Instincts took over and I ran. I darted out of Reese's car and hurdled the guardrail. Pain shot up my leg as I landed. I didn't stop. There was a rare group of trees dotting the landscape not too far off. That became my first goal. I had no idea what I'd do from there, though.

I glanced back, saw Linus holding a rifle. He peered through the scope, panning left to right, looking for me. Where was the other guy? Had he been injured? I looked around, still didn't see him.

I stopped there for a moment, dropping to the ground in a spot where the land dipped. Not the best cover, but it'd do.

An eighteen-wheeler sounded its horn as it drove past. Taillights burned red and tires squealed. The semi careened onto the shoulder, coming to a stop a couple hundred feet down the road. The man who stepped out looked to be mid-forties and in decent shape. He had his cell phone to his ear, presumably reporting an accident to the highway patrol.

Perfect.

Linus took note of the guy. He backtracked to the pickup truck and tucked away his rifle. No one was watching me now. I jumped up and made a break for the woods. They were only a couple hundred feet away. My ankle ached with every stride. As I reached the trees, I looked back and saw Linus occupied with the truck driver. His friend had reappeared, however, and was lumbering across the landscape toward me. It looked like he was injured.

The woods consisted of a group of trees that were perfectly lined up in rows. Someone's pet project, I supposed. I cleared the first row, and took position behind a thick trunk in the second row. It did a horrible job of hiding me, so I crept back, deeper into the shade. By the time the other guy reached the area, he was bent over, heaving, out of breath. He looked up, gaze darting east to west. He glossed over my position without noticing I was there.

The guy straightened up, looked back toward Linus. The truck driver had his hand on Linus's shoulder. He gestured with his hand to the guardrail. Perhaps Linus had taken more of a beating from the accident than he realized. I know I had. Or I'd at least re-aggravated the injuries from the beating I'd taken from Linus and his guys. Pain tore through my right shoulder, down to my knee. The longer I remained still, the more intense the feeling grew.

I dashed six feet to another tree, one with a thicker trunk. I stopped there and checked in on the other guy. He leaned against a tree with his back to me. He was still watching Linus's interaction with the trucker. I needed him to take a step back, out of the open. I couldn't risk being spotted by Linus or the truck driver. Or someone else. There were bound to be more coming. And judging by the barren landscape behind me, I had nowhere else to hide.

I had to get ahold of Reese. I reached into my pocket, but my cell phone was gone. I traced my path through the woods. I wasn't even sure that I'd brought it with me. It might still be sitting in the console. Or maybe it'd been tossed around during the accident.

Dammit.

I had no way of reaching out. That meant I had to move.

There was another option. The guy who'd followed me out had his phone clipped to his waistband. It'd do in a pinch. I picked a stick up and tossed it to the left. I quickly ducked behind the tree and waited.

I heard the guy shuffle backward. He took each step slowly and deliberately. His labored breathing grew closer, louder, raspier. He grabbed the tree where I hid. His fingers wrapped around to my side. I stepped right as he went left, matching each step in tune with his so we rustled the ground at the same time until I'd come up behind him. I stood in a wake of foul body odor. Had the guy bothered to shower this week? Temperatures in the low nineties didn't help his cause.

He stopped and straightened up. I stood no more than three feet from him. I could make a move, but I wasn't in the best position. There'd be a chance he would be able to fight back. In this environment, that would be bad. All he had to do was knock me down and then run out of the woods yelling. They'd have me pinned in. Or I'd have to resort to running out in the open on a wide expanse where they'd never lose sight of me.

He turned his head to the right a few inches. Soon he'd detect me in his peripheral vision. I had no time left to wait.

I landed a near-perfect strike. A punch to the soft flesh underneath the rear corner of the jaw was enough drop most men. From there I could finish him off.

He moved before my fist landed. I caught his earlobe and grazed off his cheekbone and nose. Enough to make him grunt, but not take him down.

Worse, I had braced myself for the impact and my recovery. Problem now was the momentum carried me forward, and I stumbled over his right leg.

The guy jumped on me. Instinct, I guess.

I managed to get my knee up before he hit. His gut landed square on it. His mouth twisted open, gasping with a sound like air escaping from a balloon. I grabbed his shirt near the neck with my left hand. Threw a cross with my right. Then I landed a second and a third punch. Blood dripped onto me from his mouth and nose, but he didn't budge. I tried rolling out from under him. He countered by shifting his weight. He landed a couple rabbit punches to my right side. Pain rippled through my abdomen.

He lifted his head and called out. Four of his teeth were gone. I guess he tried to say Linus, but the words were more of a mash-up of moaning and gargling.

I shoved both hands into his face, thumbs against his eyes, palms pressing hard against his mouth and nose. His muffled scream sent a stream of blood spilling out of his mouth. The sky darkened as his hand covered my face. Nails dug into my flesh. He worked his mitt down to my neck. I pressed harder into his orbital sockets, felt one eye start to give. He tightened his grip on my throat.

I forced a hollow yell.

He screamed.

I managed to slide my body enough to shift his weight off my core. Then I whipped my knee into his groin. He started to fall to the side, and his grip around my windpipe loosened. I released my right hand from his face, jabbed his throat, striking the area under his Adam's apple. He didn't budge. I struck again, then aimed for his solar plexus. Fire radiated from my wrist. Hell with it. A broken hand would heal. Death was permanent.

His arms went limp and his upper body fell. I pushed him off of me and rolled over. Shouts came from the highway. I scampered to my knees and used a tree to pull myself up. Linus and the truck driver were walking toward us. It didn't appear to be a mercy mission. The truck driver carried a shotgun.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. He was one of them.

The guy on the ground stirred. I took a running start and kicked him in the gut. Wouldn't knock him out, but it'd keep him down for a few minutes while I took off. I reached for his cellphone, but at some point during the scuffle, it had become dislodged and was nowhere to be found.

I exited the woods in the back, scanned the terrain. It turned out to be less wide open than I'd thought. I had a chance here.