Night Sun

by Tom Barber

  ‘And the big men were these two?’ Marquez asked, showing him a photo of the Loughlins from the original ‘Wanted’ page Gatlin had printed and handed out two days ago that she still had in her pocket.

  ‘Yeah, that was them.’

  ‘You didn’t recognize them from the TV? Or the guy who paid you to point the laser?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m twelve. I don’t watch the news.’

  ‘What did the guy who gave you the pointer look like?’ the Marshal asked, showing the boy Nicky’s mugshot from a paper he was carrying. ‘Could it have been him?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m pretty sure. He was wearing glasses, had shorter hair. Looked older. But I think that was the guy.’

  ‘Reyes handed over two million dollars of cash and jewelry,’ Marquez said to Archer. ‘What was so valuable in the bag they exchanged it for?’

  ‘Kat O’Mara’s stepmother knows,’ he replied.

  ‘But she refuses to say.’

  ‘And now the Loughlins have lost most of that money and jewelry because of Reyes, while he presumably got what Kat wanted from the robbery. He used them to get out of Gatlin and then he does this? They’re gonna rip him to pieces if they find him.’ Archer saw the kid who’d had his money taken as evidence by the Marshal was still looking sorry for himself, so he reached into his own pocket, unfurled the few bills from his wallet and passed him a twenty. ‘Better than nothing,’ he told him, the boy taking the note. ‘One more question; you didn’t see this guy?’ he asked, borrowing the fugitive photo off Marquez and pointing at Lupinetti’s image.

  ‘No, man. Some other dude was driving a van the two big guys left in. But it wasn’t him.’ The kid pointed at the Marshal’s photo of Nicky. ‘Before they left, the driver tried to rush this guy after he set off the firecrackers but he stabbed him through the hand with something and got away. Think he got him pretty good.’ In the meantime, Marquez had stepped away to call Richie in Cleveland to update him on what had happened, but at the forefront of her mind was Reyes’ cellmate down at Gatlin; with that call your friend code having led to a meeting which she was sure Prez was involved in setting up.

  She felt nauseous at the prospect of the biker’s phone being discovered in the federal prison and her number right there on the records with the length and time of their calls and conversations. She wasn’t someone who made a lot of mistakes.

  But this was turning out to be a major one.

  ‘Apparently there are fifty and hundred dollar bills floating around the fairground like they were shot from a cannon,’ Richie told Glick fifteen minutes later, the gang squad lieutenant having driven back to Cleveland from Akron to reunite with his sergeant. They were at the cheap hotel in Cleveland where Marquez had taken her trip through the window earlier in the day. Richie had gone out into the corridor to take the NYPD detective’s call while Glick was looking at the damage, other investigators having already closed off the scene.

  ‘The meet go wrong?’ he asked, as Richie stepped under the tape and walked back into the shot-up hotel room.

  ‘For the Loughlins, yeah. Reyes paid some kid to keep a laser pointer on one of the brothers when they met up. Boy told police he saw them swap holdalls. Reyes split right when things turned south.’

  ‘And the contents of the other bag?’

  ‘He left with it. Whatever’s inside, it’s worth more than a couple million bucks to him and the girl.’

  ‘And the bag he gave the brothers fell apart?’

  ‘From the underside. Ass end of it dropped out.’

  Glick paused. ‘Mighta been Reyes too. Slow them down.’

  ‘Or make sure they didn’t leave with squat. Police are closing off the area, but he made off in a trooper’s cruiser.’

  ‘He hurt the guy?’

  ‘Just his pride. Didn’t know it had been stolen until they got back from sweeping the park. I’ll give this guy Reyes something, he knows how to improvise.’

  The police tape behind them fluttered slightly from the breeze coming through the smashed window, the half-destroyed door propped open and creating a draft. ‘So what now, Rich?’ Glick asked. ‘What do we do?’

  The Robbery/Homicide squad leader looked at the room, then at his sergeant; detectives often kept certain lines of inquiry to themselves when ideas were forming, but his conversation with the O’Mara family’s former maid Marija had been playing on his mind. ‘Gonna leave the Loughlins and Lupinetti to the people in New York for the minute. I want to take a closer look at Kat O’Mara.’

  Glick didn’t answer, waiting for him to elaborate.

  ‘Girl had a multimillionaire for a father, good grades until her senior year and a clear plan for her future, the maid told me. She threw it all away on drugs, time in the can and now she’s on the run after pulling this robbery.’ He looked up at Glick. ‘Marquez said Kat’s stepmom called the girl a quitter. That doesn’t match up for me.’

  ‘Took a bullet and still running, two days later. You’re calling that one right,’ Glick said, taking a final look at the damaged hotel room before lifting the police tape so his lieutenant could pass under it then going with him down the corridor. ‘She sure as hell ain’t quitting on this.’

  FORTY FOUR

  The next morning, Archer stirred then was instantly awake, still wearing the jeans and t-shirt he’d bought from the downtown store in Cleveland with his shoes kicked off onto the floor. He immediately checked the hotel room around him, on his guard after the events of the last few days, but relaxed when he saw Marquez sitting by the table across the room.

  She had her phone to her ear, a cup of coffee from the room’s drink machine in her hand and her Smith and Wesson sidearm in easy reach on the table. As she spoke quietly, she was looking in the mirror with her head turned. He watched as she put down her coffee and pulled the bandage away to examine the strip that had been shaved so the wound could be cleaned and stitched; seeing in the reflection that he’d woken up, they made eye contact and she pulled a face, clearly not happy about the buzzed section of scalp. He smiled and pushed himself up on the bed.

  ‘He’s good,’ she said, then switched the phone to speaker and continued. ‘We were at the fairground and then the park until past 2am. Rolled back to the airport and booked a room here at a hotel. One of us stayed on the door while the other got some sleep.’

  ‘Any chance you were followed?’ Shepherd asked from their police division’s base in New York City. From his end, he knew it was highly unlikely his two experienced detectives wouldn’t have noticed, but asked anyway, considering the attempts on their lives that both had suffered yesterday.

  ‘No, but I wish someone had given us a shot,’ she said, glaring again at the cut on her head. Archer swung his feet to the floor and pulled his light-brown boots on, looking at the time on his burner phone, his usual cell having stopped working again last night with the water damage seeming to have finally won out. It was 9:15am.

  ‘He alive yet?’

  ‘Just woke up,’ she told him as Archer checked the chamber on his Sig Sauer then fixed the holster back to his belt before rising and walking to the bathroom. ‘You’re on speaker.’

  ‘They find the trooper’s car yet that Reyes stole?’ Archer asked.

  ‘This morning,’ Marquez said. ‘A local came across it partially concealed in a boathouse by the water a few miles south. Kayak of his is missing too, same as a shotgun that had been in the cruiser. Chopper is circling the area but they haven’t found anything yet.’

  ‘A lot of that part of the State is interconnected lakes,’ Shepherd replied from his end. ‘They could’ve come back to shore anywhere.’

  Archer had started brushing his teeth and stopped to rinse out his mouth. ‘Anyone else hurt?’

  ‘No, thank God,’ Marquez said. ‘Shep got on the phone with the Oneida County Sheriff’s Department-’

  ‘He contacted me first, yesterday, introducing himself and wanting to know more about you two,’ Shepherd said, taking over. ‘His of
fice is leading the local effort to find the brothers. I called him this morning, told me the deputy who got cracked over the head by Reyes has got a large bump, and the trooper who got his car stolen is gonna be buying everyone donuts for the next couple years, but that’s as serious as it got.’

  ‘A guy who got found in the barn in Chautauqua County who Reyes used to get over the line from Pennsylvania said he made some threats, but didn’t act on them,’ Marquez continued, informing Archer. ‘Fed the hostage, gave him water. Even left him money for borrowing a suit.’

  ‘He could’ve bought him an all-expenses paid cruise, Reyes is still facing forty years plus when he gets apprehended,’ Archer said. ‘Prison escape, assisting in armed robbery, kidnap across State lines. He’s gonna have to pay a high price for all this.’

  ‘What about the Loughlins and Frank, boss?’ Marquez asked Shepherd. ‘You hear anything from this Oneida Sheriff?’

  ‘No, they’ve gone quiet. The brothers were last seen at the fair and Lupinetti’s dropped off the radar completely. I think the final person to see him was Archer when he took off in that cruiser yesterday.’

  ‘Angler who found the trooper’s car said there was blood on the back seat,’ Marquez said. ‘Kat must still be in a bad way.’

  ‘The doctor in Erie told detectives she was. He thinks she could survive the wound, but she needs to be recuperating in a hospital with professional care. Not running from the authorities with no chance to rest.’

  ‘Reyes has kept a step ahead this whole time, but police are getting closer now,’ Archer said, returning to the main room with a glass of water in his hand. ‘Sounds like he only just got away last night. They can’t keep going much longer.’

  ‘He’s going to be forced to slow down if Kat’s deteriorating,’ Marquez continued, agreeing. ‘And at some point he’ll make a mistake. Same as Frank and the brothers. One slip-up. That’s all it’ll take.’

  Archer nodded, the glass of water cold in his hand.

  ‘What happens after that is gonna be down to them,’ Shepherd added.

  Neither Archer or Marquez replied.

  ‘Thanks for getting back to me,’ Richie said in the Detroit Shoreway neighborhood of Cleveland, drinking coffee from a thermos cup. He was sitting in his car with his phone resting on the dash on speaker, talking to the rehab counsellor who’d overseen Kat’s recovery at ORW. ‘I’m Robbery/Homicide, looking at the Morningstar bank truck job from Saturday. Wanted to ask you about the girl. I heard her poison was benzos and she served eighteen months for it?’

  ‘That’s right. Got pinched for possession and faking prescriptions. People with her family’s kind of wealth tend to find ways to avoid jailtime, but the year before her conviction, city council had elected to start coming down harder on drug offenders.’

  ‘I remember. Did some work with Vice around that time.’

  ‘Her lawyer asked for the fact she’d lost her father in bad circumstances a few years before to be taken into consideration. First offense, so she received a reduced sentence on the condition she got clean. She had to provide supervised blood and urine tests to her PO for a year after her release, but she passed each one. Didn’t seem to backslide.’

  ‘She ever reveal when she started using?’

  ‘Senior year at high school. Soon after her father died. Benzos, Ativan, Xanax, Klonopin. Same family, different names.’

  ‘Sedative medication.’

  ‘That’s right. Benzos would give her release from anxiety, but drugs like that were only ever meant to be used very short-term. As in, a few days to a week. Abuse actually leads to an increase in feeling panicked and a number of other issues, and kind of addiction level she was at, it can be more difficult to kick than heroin.’

  ‘I’ve heard that.’

  ‘Heroin addiction’s more immediate. Withdrawal is very painful, but long term it’s easier to stay off. But with drugs like benzos, chronic use changes your brain chemistry semi-permanently. Affects your sleep cycles, mood, anxiety, emotions. I’d say they might be the worst kind of drug I’ve encountered to withdraw from. Just about as close to hell as a person can get without dying. Growing epidemic of abuse of this stuff across the country in high schools and colleges. With the frame of mind Katherine was in after losing her father? She was the perfect candidate to get hooked.’

  Richie thanked him for his time, then got out of the car and walked into a fast food restaurant, going towards the back where he found Glick with the manager, a squat balding man who was looking impatient and flustered. ‘C’mon, Detective, I don’t have time for this crap right now,’ he was telling Glick. ‘Morning rush is starting.’

  ‘How long did Kat O’Mara work here?’ Richie asked as he joined his sergeant, ignoring the comment. Both detectives had discovered this job was one of twelve the girl had been unable hold down in the last five years according to her tax records. This particular gig had been her first out of prison.

  ‘Couple months.’

  ‘Seemed to show up on time a lot for a girl who got fired,’ Glick said, holding up some timecards that he’d asked to see from the office while Richie had been outside on the phone.

  ‘She was lazy. And mouthy.’

  ‘Not according to the guy back there working the fryer,’ Glick replied. ‘Said from what he remembers, the girl worked her ass off and kept quiet as a mouse.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I didn’t like her and I didn’t have to put up with her bullshit. She was replaced pretty much the same day I fired her. That’s all I gotta say.’ He took the timecards back off Glick and walked back into his office. The two detectives understood they weren’t going to get any more out of the guy for now, so walked out and headed back to their car.

  ‘Kat’s counsellor at ORW told me she kicked the habit and hadn’t started using again that he knew about,’ Richie said. ‘She never started problems in lock-up and was always cooperative. Kicked popping pills and getting in trouble, and the maid told me yesterday when I was leaving that the girl had aspirations of going to law school.’ He jerked his thumb towards the fast food restaurant. ‘But our friend in there claims she was too lazy and too much trouble to hold down a job working a register or deep fryer?’

  ‘Maybe there’s some truth to it,’ Glick replied. ‘Addiction and grief might’ve killed her motivation. She grew up the daughter of a millionaire. Money was never gonna be an issue. Or so she thought.’

  Richie shook his head, still looking at the diner as he started the engine. ‘How’d a bright kid and the daughter of a man with an eight-figure net worth end up getting pink-slipped from serving chicken nuggets and fries? And her stepmom just abandoned her?’

  ‘Kat wasn’t Blair’s daughter, Rich, remember. Blair already has one of her own to think about. Maybe she felt Kat wasn’t her responsibility anymore once Tommy O’Mara was dead.’

  ‘Maybe. You get other addresses of where Kat worked since she was released?’

  Glick went into his pocket ‘Yeah, a list. Where you wanna start?’

  ‘Let’s try somewhere more recent. From this year. See if we get the same story.’

  ‘She was employed at a hardware store January to April,’ Glick read from the piece of paper he’d withdrawn. ‘Diner June to August. Fired from both.’

  Richie looked at the paper, then tapped the store’s address. ‘Let’s go hear what excuse this guy comes up with for canning her.’

  In Oneida County in upstate New York, a deputy riding a cruiser solo heaved himself out of his car at a gas station and put his hands on his hips as he stretched his back, then walked into the store, going straight towards a food counter beside the checkout register. ‘Morning Eddie,’ he said to the clerk who he knew well, the young man’s family from the area. The deputy had been using this gas station for years. ‘I’ll put in an order. Missed breakfast.’

  A middle-aged woman parked on a stool watching a TV overheard him and got to her feet slowly, taking out a pad and paper. ‘What can I get you?’


  ‘You fix me up some eggs, bacon and home fries?’

  ‘Regular bacon or maple?’

  ‘Maple,’ he said and she ripped off the piece of paper before walking into the back. The deputy saw a Bunn flask of coffee on her side of the counter and caught the clerk’s attention who moved over to pour him a mug, a hiss coming from inside the kitchen as eggs and bacon hit the skillets. As he waited, the deputy then noticed another individual waiting at the other end of the counter, wearing a white t-shirt, jeans and ball cap. He nodded to him just as the woman reappeared with a brown bag which she placed beside Eddie who rang it up. ‘What happened to your face, guy?’ he asked, as Nicky swore to himself, having been hoping to get out unnoticed.

  ‘Walked into the bathroom medicine cabinet last night.’ The reality was, the Gatlin fugitive had smacked into a low hanging jagged tree branch he hadn’t seen when he’d been carrying Kat and her bag through the woods after dumping the kayak they’d used to cross a lake. The impact had left some scratches and discoloring on his upper left cheek.

  However, the comment seemed to satisfy the deputy, who chuckled and shook his head before parking himself on a stool and started to drink his coffee as Nicky paid for his own order, just wanting to get the hell out of here. He’d left Kat by herself in an empty church down the road where they’d broken in to sleep and hide for a few hours. Since they’d made it to shore on the other side of the lake and he’d found the church, she’d been drifting in and out of consciousness, and he’d seen the wound to her side was bleeding again.

  She was deteriorating and he knew it. They’d had no food or water left, so he’d been forced to risk a visit to the gas station before getting out of the area. Stealing another car was an option, but that brought its own complications with APBs and radio call outs for a stolen ride’s license plates; and after the doctor in Erie and Barry Marsh, Nicky was done taking hostages.

  ‘That accent of yours don’t sound local, son,’ the deputy said, just as Nicky picked up his bagged order. ‘Where you from?’