by Shanon Hunt
“Yes, I understand completely, Dr. Jeannette.”
Chapter 23
Austin Harris exited Interstate 45 and followed his GPS to the Fairview RV Park, as he’d been instructed. He pulled into lot fifteen, picked up one of his Tracfones, and dialed.
Again, only one ring. “Yes.”
He appreciated the efficiency and consistency of the Fixer. “I’m just south of Dallas at the RV park.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll leave tomorrow by eight o’clock.”
“Yes.”
He waited a couple seconds for any further instructions. None came.
“Okay.”
He disconnected the call, hopped out of the RV, and headed toward the office. A bell jingled as he stepped into the trailer labeled Office.
“Good evening. How can I help you?” A heavyset black woman with a deep southern accent greeted him from behind a small desk littered with paper and fast-food wrappers. Her face was perfectly round, and when she smiled, her cheeks dimpled like one of those ugly dolls with the pinched faces. A Garden Patch doll?
“I’ve pulled into lot fifteen. Reservation for Larry Kohn.” He laid a fifty-dollar bill on the counter.
“Yes, Mr. Kohn.” She pronounced the name in two syllables: Ko-uhn. “May I kindly see your driver’s license?”
“Actually, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like my stay here tonight to be confidential.” He laid another two fifty-dollar bills on the counter.
“Yes, Mr. Kohn. Enjoy your stay.” She smiled again, her dimples even deeper with the delight of a very nice tip.
He wondered if one extra fifty would have done the trick. Everyone had a price tag, and he bet Little Miss Garden Patch would have been peachy keen with fifty, maybe even twenty. But he wasn’t going to risk playing his game during this trip.
Not with the stakes so high.
***
He lay awake staring at the sky through the moonroof of his brand-new 2019 Pleasure-Way Mercedes-Benz widebody recreational vehicle. He couldn’t see the stars tonight, thanks to the city lights of Dallas, but he smiled anyway. His enjoyment of this trip was surprising. He felt young and free again, as he had in his midtwenties backpacking through Germany, though now he enjoyed a much higher quality of travel. But it wasn’t the luxury RV that made him smile; it was the simplicity of his singular focus. No tedious task lists or absurd presentations, no pushing the limits of his EQ to appear compassionate to his staff, no coddling the fragile and inflated egos of his pompous physicians. Hell, he didn’t even have to listen to his whiny kids and nagging wife, as family vacations usually went. He felt positively liberated.
Despite that, he couldn’t let his guard down even for a second. He’d been financing this contingency plan for months, unsure if and when it might be needed, and it hadn’t been easy or cheap. But foolproof plans came with a cost.
The financial part had been easy—it was good to be wealthy—but staying out of sight hadn’t been so simple. The whole world is captured on camera every second, he was told by the Fixer, and it was nearly impossible to disappear. The Fixer, whose name or face he didn’t know, had managed every detail of his extraction, providing complete albeit terse updates on the status of the search for him, including the extensive scope of the FBI’s APB. Austin had also been warned about the hungry flock of fugitive recovery agents that were in all likelihood on his trail. Skipping bail wasn’t important enough for a TV news story, but the reward for Austin’s return would be plenty attractive to a bounty hunter, a lot more than a typical target. And if that wasn’t enough, the Fixer had said Austin’s very own wife had hired a private detective to spy on him back in New Jersey. Bitch.
Jackie was fiercely independent. It’s what had originally attracted him to her in the first place—in addition to her raging-hot body, of course—but now he despised it. In those flawlessly gorgeous eyes boiled a look of both challenge and superiority: Go ahead and try to do better than me. The look had always made him want to slap her across the face, but he never had. She was an important part of his plan.
But he did try to do better than her. He tried often, in fact—flight attendants, cocktail waitresses, secretaries, you name it. Thanks for the suggestion, Jackie.
He felt a vibration next to him and shuffled through four Tracfones. He glanced at the small piece of tape he’d used to label the phone and answered. “Kiran.”
“We have a situation.”
Austin waited.
“Allison Stevens.”
He didn’t need or care about all the details of Allison’s little excursion yesterday, but he allowed Kiran to deliver the blow-by-blow. He felt his face tighten into a scowl. He’d underestimated her, and it wasn’t like him to mischaracterize those in his inner circle. She been strategically groomed for this role, docile and obedient. This wouldn’t do.
“I’ll take care of it.” He disconnected the call and stared at his phone. “You sneaky little girl.” He smirked.
He dialed Allison’s number.
Chapter 24
Allison poured a third vodka tonic, this time with more vodka than tonic. She couldn’t stop thinking about her ominous call with Kiran earlier that afternoon, and the Spiragene invoices were ringing alarm bells in her head. This wasn’t just smoke; these were real fires.
She needed someone to talk to, but her someone had always been Austin. Her vision blurred, and she took a long pull from her glass in an effort to swallow back the tears. The booze made her more emotional, but she didn’t care. She was utterly alone. Friendless. Faced with something both intriguing and intimidating, and not a soul to share it with. Her face contorted, and she stifled a sob with a gulp from her glass.
She lay back against the sofa cushions and closed her eyes. It was her own fault. She’d allowed Austin to manipulate her until her meager social life had completely eroded.
It’s girls’ night tonight, she’d insisted one night as she freshened her mascara.
Cancel it. I’ll come over. I’ll bring Indian food and beer, and we can work on the DMD program strategy. Austin sounded especially sexy through her iPhone speaker. He knew Indian food was her favorite. But he’d been taking up all her time the past several months, and what few friends she had left were getting annoyed.
I can’t cancel. Anyway, maybe you should go home to Jackie. It came out haughtier than she’d intended.
His tone changed from sexy to indignant. I thought you were serious about our work. Maybe I’ve misjudged you. There are plenty other professionals out there who’d be far more dedicated to your DMD program.
At the time, she’d chalked it up to jealousy. He was in love with her, after all, and he had a possessive side she found endearing. Still, it only took a few more conversations like that before she’d stopped making plans with anyone else. God, that must have been three, four years ago.
Her phone vibrated, and she answered with a sleepy “Allison Stevens.”
“Hi, baby. Do you miss me?”
She leaped off the sofa, instantly growing light-headed, then lowered herself the edge of the cushion.
“Austin?”
What a dumb thing to say. She knew it was Austin.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m okay. I’m on the road, keeping a low profile. How’s my girl?”
His girl had been falling to pieces for days now. “Fine, um, I guess.” God, why did she suddenly sound like stupid child?
“How’s Quandary? Are you keeping the programs going? You’re not hiding out in your apartment all day, are you?”
She walked over to her window and looked out over the dimly lit parking lot. He couldn’t be out there, could he?
“Um, well, um, we lost Jakob. From the study.” Her legs trembled. What the fuck was wrong with her?
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. God, that must have broken your heart.” He sounded genuinely sad.
“Yeah.”
“And how’s Ryan doing? Are you guys still working with Kiran? I’m sure the boa
rd will be meeting soon to decide an ad interim CEO.”
“Yeah.”
Her chest ached, under the weight of her conflicting emotions. One part of her wanted to ostracize him, to accuse him of keeping Spiragene a secret and shutting her out of his pain program. The other part of her—the larger part—just wanted to tell him she loved him and to please come home and make this all better. His voice was intoxicating. She would give anything to erase all that had happened over the last two weeks and just go back to business as usual. Maybe he’d come out of wherever he was hiding and stay with her tonight.
Instead, she asked in her little-girl voice, “So do you know who they’ll name for that?”
“Doubt anyone’s going to ask me.”
“Oh.” She picked up her glass and watched the ice swirl, but she didn’t take a sip.
“Listen, Al, I’m sorry I disappointed you. I cared very much for you. I still do. And I know you felt the same. And now you probably think I’m a jackass.”
She closed her eyes, and her face tightened again.
“But I want you to know that this … How can I say it? … This sabbatical is a temporary arrangement. It’s like a mission. Something I need to do. And when I’m done, I’ll be back, and it’ll be just like the old days.”
His voice was so comforting and he sounded so genuine that she couldn’t help relaxing. “A mission? Like helping a third-world country?”
“Something like that. Listen, I understand you visited a company we’ve been working with. Spiragene.”
She went rigid.
“Barbara said you stopped by to get a full portfolio status for an urgent board meeting. Is that right?”
It was so unexpected that she couldn’t think of a response.
He chuckled. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Take your time. Have a sip of your vodka.”
He knew her far too well. Or maybe … She glanced over at her window again.
“Austin, I found … an invoice.” Her voice cracked. “I just—I didn’t know what it was, and you weren’t answering my calls, and—”
“Honey, honey, it’s okay. It’s fine.”
“—the auditors were here, and my signature was on the invoice, and I was afraid that I’d done something wrong—” Her voice rose.
“Shh, shh. Hey, listen, baby. It’s fine. You didn’t know. You were just doing your job. It’s okay, really.”
She stepped into the kitchen, in dire need of a glass of water.
“It’s fine,” he continued. “I smoothed it over with Barbara. She really liked you, by the way. She says you have a lot of potential.”
Her nervousness turned into confusion. Why was he calling?
“But here’s the thing.” His tone changed from soothing to sharp. “It’s important that you never visit them again, okay? And if you find any other invoices or documents that you don’t understand, the best thing would be to just shred them. I don’t want you to get into any trouble. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
She braced one hand on the counter. Trouble? “What are you talking about? Am I in some kind of danger? Did you involve me in—” She didn’t know what he was involved in. “Is there something going on that you haven’t told me?”
He laughed then, a callous slap across her face. She winced.
“I’ve always loved your innocence. It’s really your best quality. Hang onto that as long as you can. Meanwhile, let me be a bit clearer. This … How can I say it? … This venture I’m involved in right now is more important than anything. It will change the course of medical history. I’ve been building this for years, planning every tiny detail—including you. You play an important role in all this, Al. You’re my right-hand man, aren’t you, baby? Your role is to go back to work and just behave like everything is normal. Keep the train on the tracks. That’s why I hired you.”
She squinted. She still didn’t understand what he was getting at. “How am I supposed to just—”
“Don’t talk. Just listen.” His voice deepened, taking on a threatening tone that she’d never heard before. “You will go back to work and do your job each day, protect what we’ve built. Do you understand? Am I being clear enough for you?”
Allison felt a hot flush crawl up her face. “Who the fuck—”
“Shut up!”
She froze. Seconds ticked by in silence.
Austin’s tone changed again, as though he were talking to a child. “I only have one more minute, honey, then I have to run. But this is the important part, so pay attention. You’re an important element in my planning—my scapegoat, until this plays out. Do as I tell you, and you won’t get hurt.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t Austin. This wasn’t the man she loved.
“From this moment on, I need you to forget everything you saw and heard at Spiragene. Forget all about the LXR portfolio. Just pretend it never existed. Don’t get all detective-like, and don’t talk to the police. This is bigger than both you and me. So go back to your job each day and play your role. Keep the train on the tracks.”
A memory flashed through her mind of Austin lounging next to her on the couch giving her a foot rub as she sipped wine. She glanced over at the sofa. That hadn’t been even three weeks ago.
“Say it. Keep the train on the tracks.”
Her tongue felt like sandpaper. She sipped her water, but it seemed to pour into her mouth like volcanic ash.
“Say it.” His voice was a demonic snarl.
She could only whisper. “Keep the tr—”
Someone was banging on a door. Austin’s door.
A muffled voice called out, “Dr. Harris, I have warrant for your arrest. Let’s not make this difficult.”
“I’m not armed,” Austin called back.
Allison tottered backward, banging against the wall. Her water glass crashed to the floor, spraying glass and liquid across her kitchen. Her hand flew to her mouth. They’d found him.
Two explosive gunshots followed. She dropped her phone. Dropping to her knees among the glass shards, she clambered for it.
“Austin?” Her voice was just a squeak.
Silence.
Chapter 25
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The Tracfone flew from Austin’s hand, banged against the driver’s seat, and flipped closed as he reflexively dropped to his knees, then fell face down onto his stomach, breathing fast and shallow. He shielded his head with his arms. This was it. After everything he’d built, this was it.
In the next instant, before his short-circuited brain could even process whether the bullets had entered his body, the RV doors unlocked. Both the driver and passenger doors opened, and two men climbed into the vehicle. The man behind the steering wheel soberly started the truck and pulled out of the lot.
Holding his breath, Austin patted his body for blood. Nothing. He hadn’t been shot. He exhaled and pulled himself onto his hands and knees, but he couldn’t stand as the RV rattled and swayed down the dirt road. Vibrating with the terror, his tongue felt glued to the top of his mouth.
The driver broke the silence. “Dr. Harris, my sincere apologies for the intrusion. This intervention wasn’t optimal, but it was necessary to prevent your arrest and return to Connecticut.”
Austin blinked in stunned silence.
“My colleague and I are with the operation assigned to your safe transport into Mexico.”
The man in the passenger seat swiveled to face him, and Austin gaped. The guy must’ve been in his twenties. He was just a kid. In fact, both these thugs were kids.
The kid’s voice was gentle. “Sir, please collect your important items. We’ll be changing vehicles in less than one minute.”
Finally, Austin gathered his bearings. “What the hell is going on here? Who the hell are you? What the fuck just happened?” His tone escalated with each question.
“Please, Dr. Harris, kindly gather your important items. We’ll be leaving this vehicle behind.”
The driver apologized again, his eyes
still on the road. “We’re sorry about this interruption in your schedule, sir. Once we change cars, we’ll explain. Please ensure you have the Tracfones.”
The gravity of the situation finally settled in. He was a fugitive, and someone looking for him had just been shot. He did as he was told and collected his duffel bag, which contained all his money, identification, and phones. He slipped on his pants and shoes and perched on the edge of the bed, shakily clutching his bag.
“Here we are. Dr. Harris, please exit the RV as quickly as possible and get into the back seat of the Expedition.”
A black Ford Expedition sat at the far end of a liquor store parking lot. The RV driver held the door as Austin scrambled out, still clutching his bag against his chest, and followed the driver to the SUV.
“Thirty seconds,” the driver said to his partner.
The partner pulled from the center console a pair of gloves, a respirator, and a spray bottle and moved quickly back to the RV. As Austin slid into the back seat, the driver resumed his position at the wheel, watching the RV through the rearview mirror, glancing at his watch every few seconds. Austin craned to watch through the back window. A few seconds later, his partner emerged from the RV with a bag and held up the key fob, presumably locking the doors, on his way to the passenger side of the Ford.
“Clean,” he said as he slammed the door.
Seconds later, they were driving down the highway.
Austin could no longer remain silent. “Would you kindly explain what’s happening here?” He recognized with dismay that he sounded like a fussy customer dissatisfied with the temperature of his filet mignon. “This is not what I discussed with your boss. I need to speak with him.”
“Of course. Please feel free to call him.”
He whipped out the phone, his fury building. Goddammit! He’d been explicit about his requirements for this exit strategy and had been assured that his demands would be met. He’d been unmistakably clear that no one could be hurt or killed, and the Fixer had agreed. He’d paid a lot of goddamn money for this.
