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The Escape

Page 17

by Lisa Harris


  “Yes, sir.”

  Madison felt her heart sink. How had they finally caught up with him, only to lose him again?

  “He’s gone, Madison,” Jonas said. “He somehow managed to slip away in the chaos. But it’s not over. We’ll find him.”

  Madison glanced upriver, trying to go through what his limited escape options had been.

  Jonas met her gaze as she turned back to face him. “We assume he went downstream with the current, but what if he swam upriver while we were busy in the confusion, making sure the hostage was okay.”

  “Giving him a few seconds to swim upstream underwater and disappear into the crowd,” Madison said.

  “There is another option,” Jonas said. “He could have hit his head and gotten dragged under the water.”

  Madison grimaced at the thought.

  The police chief ran up to them. “One of my officers just called in. He spotted Barrick at the farmers market a few blocks south of here.”

  “Tell him to follow, but don’t engage, and that we’re on our way. In the meantime, make sure your officer keeps him in his sights.”

  The street music got louder as they approached the farmers market a few minutes later. Tented booths displayed farm-fresh fruits and vegetables and an assortment of other local products for sale. The crowds were heavy this time of day, with both locals and tourists, so this could be nothing but another foolish quest.

  Where was he?

  A red hat bobbed ahead of her. She looked closer. Same build as Barrick. It had to be him. Madison pressed through the crowd, making sure she kept her eyes on the moving figure.

  “I might have him,” she said into her radio. “He needs to be surrounded before he’s approached.”

  “I see you,” Jonas said. “I’m coming up to your right. Wait for my signal.”

  She quickened her pace, worried about the possibility of another hostage situation. They were going to have one chance of taking him down, and they didn’t know if he was still armed or if he’d lost his weapon during the jump. They couldn’t assume anything. Jonas came up next to her, while the other three officers fanned out in front of them, surrounding the man.

  Jonas signaled for them to move in. “Police! Put your hands in the air now!”

  “Get down on the ground!” one of the officers yelled.

  The man dodged to the left, crashing through a display of candles, knocking them to the ground. Madison followed close behind, but she slammed her shoulder into a metal pole. She fought to catch her balance, then took off after him.

  “Stop now! Police!”

  Her heart quickened when he didn’t obey. She picked up her pace, bridging the gap between them, while Jonas kept up with her. The man knocked over another display, then took off across the parking lot. A car turned in front of them, then slammed on the brakes, barely missing him. The momentary confusion gave them just enough time to catch up. Jonas wrestled him to the ground while the rest of them covered him, then quickly handcuffed the man and turned him around.

  Unfamiliar eyes stared back at them.

  Madison glanced around. “Why’d you run?” she asked the stranger, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

  “Because you were chasing me.”

  She caught the panic in the man’s eyes. What had just happened?

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Then once again, why did you run?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s start over. Where did you get this hat?”

  “Some guy offered me fifty bucks to wear it. I gave him my Broncos sweatshirt and hat.”

  Jonas radioed the description into the station.

  “Did he say anything else to you?” Madison asked.

  “No. I thought he was crazy—you know, since he was soaking wet and all—but I thought why not. I could use the fifty bucks.”

  Jonas kicked at the asphalt with his boot, the irritation on his face as strong as hers.

  “He couldn’t have gone that far,” she said in an effort to calm her partner, but frustration dug through her at another missed opportunity. How did he keep vanishing into thin air? With the mountains surrounding them, there were limited ways out of Glenwood Springs, but Barrick had grown up around here. That tipped the advantage once again in his favor.

  The police chief drove up in the parking lot while someone took their imposter down to the station. He’d be questioned again, but more than likely would be let go.

  At the police station, Madison and Jonas stood before a map of the city with the police chief.

  “If you were trying to get out of here and knew the area well,” Jonas said, “where would you go?”

  The chief stared at the map. “There aren’t a lot of options. He’ll probably assume we’ve set up roadblocks, so he’ll want to stay off the main roads.”

  “What about the water?” Madison glanced at him. “He could rent a boat and head south on the Roaring Fork River, or east on the Colorado.” She moved in front of the map and studied the routes. “Where’s the roadblock on 82?”

  “We have it set up right here,” he said, pointing to a pin. “Just south of town.”

  “So it’s possible he follows the river and misses the roadblock altogether. If Denver is his destination, he could find transportation then head south and east toward the city.”

  Jonas shook his head and took a step back. “Or he could be heading to Albuquerque or Phoenix, for that matter. Without any concrete evidence, there’s just no way to know.”

  Madison frowned. He was right. Barrick’s original plan had been to take the train to Denver. With contacts and friends there, it made sense that he wouldn’t change his original plans. But they didn’t have time to head off on another wild-goose chase.

  “I think our best move at this point would be to continue on to Denver,” she said.

  “Agreed.”

  “We can give the marshals there a heads-up that we’re on our way and coordinate from there.”

  She started walking, stopping when Jonas called her name.

  He stepped up in front of her. “Are you okay? You’re holding your shoulder.”

  “It’s fine. I think I slammed it into something while I was chasing the decoy.” She hadn’t even felt the pain until now.

  “Let me see,” Jonas said.

  She pulled down her sleeve. Her arm was already turning a deep blue.

  “You need an ice pack on that.”

  She nodded, knowing if she tried to argue with him, he’d just insist even more. She shot him a smile. “I’ll get one on my way out. I promise. We need to get to Denver.”

  Three hours later, the city skyline came into view. She’d sat quiet for most of the trip, enjoying the views of the mountains while Barrick and her sister filled her thoughts.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Madison stared out the window, finally breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “I’ve always loved this part of the country.”

  “Ever gone skiing here?” he asked.

  “Once as a kid. Our family did spend a lot of winters skiing at Mt. Baker though. What about you?”

  “My father enjoyed it and used to take me, though one winter I lost control of one of my skis and broke my leg.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It wasn’t so bad. When I got home, my mother felt so bad for me, she let me hole up on the couch and watch TV for a week, so I never complained very much.” He glanced at her. “Speaking of injuries, how’s your shoulder?”

  “A bit sore, but the ice pack did help.”

  “I have some good advice every now and then.”

  “Every now and then.”

  Jonas’s phone rang, and he put it on speaker.

  “Michaels,” he said, “what’s happening?”

  “I just got a report from the tail we put on Barrick’s mother. They lost track of her about thirty minutes ago at a shopping mall near her house.”

  Madison frowned. “For how
long?”

  “About five minutes.”

  “He’s got to be there.” Madison tried to push back the irritation. That was plenty of time for Barrick to make contact with her. “Have them check all the surveillance footage.”

  “Already done, but that’s not all of it. She just showed up at our offices in Denver. She’s asking to speak with the marshals on the case.”

  Twenty-Four

  The noose might be slowly closing in around him, but Barrick was still one step ahead of them. Madison stepped inside the US Marshals Service building in downtown Denver. It was like a chess game. Learning to think like a fugitive and calculate their next move.

  While they didn’t know why Barrick’s mother had come in, they were going to have to convince the woman that for Barrick, returning to prison was better than running. Because in the end they would find him, and there was no guarantee he’d make it out alive.

  They were quickly escorted into a small conference room with nothing more than a table and chairs inside. Damon Barrick’s mother was waiting for them with a Styrofoam cup of coffee sitting in front of her. Eyes puffy and cheeks red, she’d clearly been crying. Something had compelled the woman to come in and talk to them about her son, and they needed to find out what.

  “Mrs. Barrick?” Madison and Jonas took a seat across from the woman. “I’m Madison James and this is my partner Jonas Quinn. We’re both with the US Marshal service. We understand you’d like to talk with us.”

  “I don’t know.” She set her hands on the table in front of her, shaking. “I’m not sure I should be here. If he knew I’d come . . .”

  “You love your son, don’t you?” Madison said.

  Mrs. Barrick nodded her head. “Yes, and he’s innocent. That’s why I’m here. I saw that the US Marshals were tracking him down, and I knew if I didn’t at least try to stop him from running away I’d never see him again. I can’t let that happen.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but if you’re right, we need to find him. Otherwise, it’s only going to get worse for him.”

  Madison waited, not wanting to push the woman, but needing the information she had come to give.

  “He wrote me letters from prison,” Barrick’s mother said. “Told me about his cellmates and the food. Promised me he had a lawyer that would get him out. Asked me to pray for him until he did. I’ve heard what they are saying he did, but it’s not true. I know him.”

  “Ma’am, we know this has got to be difficult,” Jonas said, “but our job isn’t to determine whether he’s guilty or not. Our only job is to find him. And the sooner he comes in, the better it will be for him, especially if you’re right and he’s innocent.”

  “You did the right thing by coming here,” Madison said.

  “I don’t know how we got to this place.” She pulled a weathered photo out of her purse and handed it to Madison. “I keep this with me. It was taken at a Boy Scout camping trip when Damon was thirteen. His father died a few months after that. He had no siblings, so it was just the two of us. He always loved the outdoors, but even more so, he was a charmer. Could convince me of just about anything, but murder? I know my son and the things he’s capable of, and murder isn’t one of them.”

  Except unfortunately, sometimes those closest to us were the ones who couldn’t see the truth.

  Madison handed the photo back to her. “We understand you saw your son earlier today. Can you tell us what happened?”

  “I’d gone to the mall. I just had to get out of the house. And suddenly he was there. He slipped me a note—told me I was being watched—then waited for me inside one of the dressing rooms. You’ll probably think I’m naive, but I didn’t know the police were watching me. And whenever I did think someone was following me, I thought it was reporters. They were always wanting to talk with me. Wanting to know why he did the things he did. I don’t have answers for them, so I just keep to myself and try to stay busy.”

  “What did you talk about?” Jonas asked.

  “At first all I could think about was that someone would burst into that dressing room and arrest him.”

  Madison leaned forward. The woman had her attention now. “What did he say?”

  “He said he could only see me for a few minutes, but he needed to say goodbye. That he was sorry but running was his only option.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  She shook her head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He said it would put my life at risk if he did. I told him I didn’t care, but he just said he was sorry. Told me he wouldn’t be able to see me again.”

  Mrs. Barrick’s shoulders heaved. She grabbed a tissue from her purse.

  “Take your time,” Madison said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I’m so scared. I sat in the dressing room after he left me, not knowing what to do. If he’s innocent I have to help him, because living as a fugitive, . . . What kind of life is that? He doesn’t know this, but I’m going to hire a lawyer so we can fight the charges. But in order to do that, he has to turn himself in.”

  “Has he ever talked about leaving the country?” Jonas asked.

  “He once told me if he ever went to prison, he would try to escape across the border. At the time, I didn’t take him seriously. I just never imagined it would really happen.”

  “Did he say anything else? Like where specifically he would go?”

  She hesitated again, before pulling something else out of her purse. “I don’t know if this will help, but he sent this to me a few months ago.”

  “What is it?”

  “A letter he wrote. I didn’t think anything about it. I was simply happy to hear from him. He wrote about the Zookeeper.”

  “Who’s the Zookeeper?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought it was someone he was in prison with. Maybe a cellmate. But I think it’s someone he knew here in Denver.”

  Madison took the letter and scanned through it. “Some kind of contact who could help him get out of prison?”

  “Possibly. He told me not to worry today. That he had resources. That the Zookeeper would help.”

  “Did he say anything else?” Jonas asked.

  “No. Just that he had to say goodbye. All I could think about was that I’d never see my boy again. And there was nothing I could do. But I can’t go the rest of my life without seeing him. I can’t do that.”

  “I’d like to keep the letter,” Madison said.

  The woman dabbed at her eyes with the damp tissue. “Of course.”

  Madison pushed her chair back. “We’re going to have someone take an official statement from you, but I want you to know that as hard as this was, you did the right thing coming to us.”

  Jonas and Madison walked out of the room, then told one of the marshals they’d be back after dinner before heading down the hallway toward the elevator with the letter Barrick’s mom had given them.

  “She’s convinced about her son’s innocence,” Madison said.

  “And you’re not?”

  Madison let out a low laugh. “Damon Barrick might be charming, but after the past few days, I’m convinced the man should spend the rest of his life in prison. Though I can only imagine how hard it must be to believe your child could do something like that. We were right about one thing. He’s planning to leave the country.”

  They just needed to figure out how.

  “His name is already on the no-fly list, which means he’ll never get out of the country using his own ID,” Jonas said.

  Madison stepped into the elevator and punched the lobby button. “What about the Zookeeper? Do you think whoever that is fits into the equation somehow?”

  “I really don’t know, but we do know three things.” Jonas ticked them off on his fingers. “Barrick is desperate, he has money, and if he’s going to get out of the country like his mother now believes, he needs a passport.”

  “So the questions are where will he go and what does he have to do to get there?”

&n
bsp; Jonas nodded. “We know he’s here in Denver. At least for the moment.”

  “You used to live here,” she said. “Do you know anything about getting your hands on a forged passport in this city?”

  “I know it’s possible, because both forged and doctored travel documents are huge all over the world. I was involved in a case a couple years ago where we arrested a group that was making forged IDs, mainly licenses. Passports aren’t nearly as easy, so we didn’t run into that as often, but it’s out there.”

  “What did you run into?”

  “We found that a lot of them are made overseas and are often sold to terrorists, arms traffickers, and human traffickers. It’s such a lucrative business that people often either fly out to get them or send a courier. If you’re willing to pay, you can buy anything you want. A fake driver’s license, passport, birth certificate.”

  The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. “And for someone right here in the States? Where would they go?”

  “I don’t know, but I do have a CI who might.”

  “And you trust this guy?”

  “His intel has always been spot-on.”

  “Then I say go ahead and set up a meet,” she said. “It can’t hurt to see what he might know.”

  “I will, but while we’re waiting,” Jonas said, “I know of a little restaurant near here I think you’ll like.”

  “Do they serve chowder?” she asked.

  “Very funny.”

  Madison’s phone rang as they crossed the lobby. She answered it as Jonas filed the letter from Barrick’s mom with the evidence team.

  “This is Detective Paul Randall from the Denver PD. I’m looking for Deputy US Marshal Madison James.”

  “This is she.”

  “I just saw the BOLO you have out on Damon Barrick. I have some information that might help you.”

  “I’m going to put my phone on speaker so my partner can hear what you have to say as well.” Madison signaled at Jonas. “What exactly do you have, Detective?”

  “We need to speak in person, but I spent eighteen months trying to get that man behind bars. I think I might know how to find him.”

 

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