Footsteps on the stairwell caused Leo to tense. Though he knew it wasn’t good to show concern, he couldn’t help his eyes sliding sideways, hoping Allison would sense something wrong or have time to run. The man didn’t hesitate. He leapt over the couch and flung open the door, not even waiting for Allison to enter willingly.
She started to scream, but the man covered her mouth with his hand and said, “If you want to protect him, you’re going to have to keep yourself cool, Miss Wahl. Can you do that?
Miss Wahl. They knew her name. Even worse than he’d imagined. Though he knew the man probably wouldn’t understand him, Leo tried to make a deal. “Lemph hef allmmoan. All ho.”
“What?”
“He says to leave me alone and he’ll go. I think he means quietly.”
“I don’t get to make that call. You’re here; you need to come. So, this is what we’re going to do.” The man pulled out a gun. “It’s simple. We all walk down to my van together. You will get in quietly. Try to laugh if you can. I’ll be talking about how funny he sounds. No one will get hurt. I’m here to help.”
“Fwah wfimpt.”
“What?”
“I think that was, ‘yeah right’ but I could be wrong. It was a little more garbled than I’m accustomed to.”
Allison’s calm impressed him. She had always been impressive but this—incredible. She sat there as if ready to serve tea to a man with a gun. Her initial shock had already disappeared. Oh, she didn’t like it—didn’t trust the man at all, if he read her correctly—but she was no longer unsettled.
“Look. We don’t have time for this,” the man continued. “I need you,” he pointed to Allison, “to fill him a trash bag of clothes but try to make it look as if nothing is missing.” He passed her a bag.
“Ok…” Allison grabbed the bag and went into his room but came back seconds later. “Um, it’s Saturday. Most of his stuff is dirty. If I take anything out of those drawers, it’s going to be obvious that stuff is gone.”
“Ok, then put his dirty clothes in here. Just don’t take all of them.”
Leo cringed at the idea of her handling his dirty socks and underwear. Without thinking, he tried asking another question. “Owf lomb fill me me bongf?”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“I think it was, ‘how long will we be gone?’” came Allison’s reply from the doorway as she carried in the clothes. “Does he need a jacket?”
“Probably not.”
“Mifle.”
Allison’s eyebrows drew together. “Mifle. Does he have a rifle?”
Leo shook his head and jerked it toward the Bible on the counter. As he grabbed his jaw, his head spinning, he tried again. “Mifle.”
“Oh, Bible. That’s a new one. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask for a Bible after an extraction and a root canal.” She glanced at the man. “Look, before you take him anywhere, I need to change out the gauze. Is that ok?”
The man nodded. “Just don’t throw the old stuff away here.”
“I could flush it down the toilet…”
Leo nearly screamed. What was she doing? Why would she make this easier on a man who planned to take them out of town and kill them both?
“Great idea. Flush it.”
The scene washed over him as Leo imagined how the day would play out. This guy would take them to the woods behind Fairbury. Obviously a hit man, he’d give them each one or two shots into the head and leave them. He wouldn’t torture Allison. The relief that thought brought him lasted only long enough for him to remember her parents. After all her father had done for him that day, to have it end with the loss of his daughter… How long would it be before their bodies were discovered? Probably weeks—months.
Leo shifted and felt the ankle bracelet. Well, that was something good about the thing. It wouldn’t be weeks or months. They’d be found right away. There’d be a big funeral for her. Students, friends, church members, family… he had to fight this.
“Moamft fabe hef.”
This time, the guy just glanced at Allison for translation. “He says don’t take me.”
“Sorry. I have to. She’s seen me, and you’ll both cooperate better with the other one there. You have to trust me when I say that I am here to help—not hurt.”
“You have to admit,” Allison said, handing the man the bag, “we have no reason to trust a stranger who breaks into a house and holds us at gunpoint, telling us we’re going to be collateral for each other’s cooperation.”
“Point taken.” The man glanced at his watch. “However, I don’t have time to convince you, so it’s simple. Go downstairs, into the alley, laugh and joke, and get in the van. Period.”
“Mef fim.”
“I think that was yes sir.”
Allison shook her head as if unable to believe what was happening. “Yep.”
Leo’s heart sank as the man sliced through his tether without a blink. Chief Varney and the officers would think he’d run. Allison’s parents wouldn’t find her quickly now. The man gestured toward the door. “Go!”
By the third vehicle, this time a Jeep that had seen much better days, Allison had grown tired of the whole thing. So, they were going to kill them. Great. Why not just do it?
About seventy miles from Chicago, they pulled into a long driveway leading to a farm. She wanted to scream. Why did they keep changing the vehicles? Were they going to travel by tractor now?
Leo’s mouth ached—she could see the pain in his eyes—but he refused to take the Vicodin her father had prescribed. Keith—the first man in the apartment—promised that when they got ‘there’ he’d make Leo take one. Another man had been in the van when they’d crawled in. Brian. He didn’t seem to care a bit about Leo’s pain. As long as Leo could keep his mouth shut and his moans to himself, Brian said nothing.
“We’ve got a chopper here to fly us to Arizona.”
“Arizona!”
“The Kasimirs won’t expect you there.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said—that you’re trying to help.” Allison chose her words carefully as they bounced over the gravel drive. “There’s just one problem with that idea.”
“What’s that?” Though not as friendly as Keith, Brian’s curiosity kept him talking even when he didn’t want to.
“Well, you’ve removed that ankle bracelet. Even if you are what you claim to be, the moment that you let us go, the police will take him into custody, he’ll be thrown in prison, and my guess is he’ll be dead inside a week.” She shook her head as Brian started to speak. “Now, I don’t know much about gang hit tactics and things, but it seems to me to be a great way to get Leo killed off without you having to fire a gun or be attached in any way.”
“Except that the police will not arrest him upon his return.”
Keith’s confidence would have been reassuring if Allison had been inclined to believe him. None of it made sense. Leo couldn’t ask questions, so it was up to her to anticipate what he might need to know and ask it herself.
Her mind whirled, trying to think of the next question. Unable to manufacture any kind of scenario that might give Leo insight into what these men had planned, she returned to the previous conversation. “So, you really think that a man on house arrest for being affiliated with and guilty of crimes committed while under the direction of one of the toughest gangs in this country will be able to waltz back in after several hours—” a shake of Keith’s head made her amend her statement. “—or rather days—weeks?” Keith shrugged. “—days or weeks after disappearing, and without consequences.”
“I guarantee it.”
Leo muttered, “Whaf amomt fom famphms?”
“My parents?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“He wants to know about my parents.”
Keith shook his head. “What about them? We’re not interested in taking them with us. If they’d been there when I arrived, sure.”
“I think he means they’re going to re
port me missing.”
“That’s being taken care of. We’re going to try to do this without having to pull them into protective custody.”
Those words shook Allison to the core. Law enforcement. That was why they were so confident that Leo wouldn’t be sent to prison. They could know because they were responsible for the whole charade. But why? Why so secretive? She couldn’t understand it.
“Ok, so you don’t want to tell us who you are. You guarantee that Leo isn’t going to prison for breaking his parole agreement. You are willing to take my parents into,” she made air quotes around the words, “’Protective custody’ if necessary. You are not going to hurt either one of us, and you believe that you are protecting us. Have I summarized it well?”
“That’s about it.”
She turned to Leo. “I get it. They’re FBI or something. It’s going to be ok.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Brian. “Momf FBI?”
“No.”
Allison grinned. “This is cool.”
Leo’s hand covered hers. “May faim may fom FBI.”
“I know,” she insisted, “but they’re something. They’re keeping you alive; they’re protecting you. Don’t you get it? That’s why they can promise you won’t go to jail. They’re law enforcement.”
“No we’re not.”
Allison leaned back against the seat—the one she’d avoided due to the proximity of a gun behind it—and crossed her arms. “You say what you want, but if you were going to kill us, we’d be dead. The only other people out there who can promise no arrest for taking off that tether are all law enforcement. Cover your backsides all you like but you’re not convincing me.”
“Fees Fimesfy,” Leo muttered.
Keith’s eyes met Allison’s in the rearview mirror before he nodded, grinning. “Feisty is good in a situation like this. Oh, and don’t worry. Mark’ll explain it all when we get there.”
Chapter Sixteen
Music blared around him as Jenk listened to Ernie’s explanation. “—found this blog. Check it out.”
“Didn’t know you were a blogger, Ernie.”
“C’mon, Jenk. I was doing the usual searches for Leo and look.”
The blog banner scrolled through picture after picture under a header that read “Fairbury’s Finest.” The tagline even cheesier: the local news, gossip, and excitement of the best little town in the world. “Quaint. Your point?”
“Click on locals.”
Jenk clicked, tired of the game already but banking on Ernie being too smart to risk a smashed nose on a practical joke. “Infamous Leo. No way.”
“If this wasn’t a quiet little tourist town that clearly doesn’t want riff raff like us messing up the local economy, I’d swear someone ratted Leo out deliberately. Look—his whole name, affiliation with us, trial, and it even says where he lives!”
“Looks almost like a set up.”
“I think it is—for Leo. I think someone wants him out of their conservative little middle-class town.” Ernie pointed out a paragraph. “Look there.”
“‘The question I put to this community is whether it is our responsibility to risk our children in order to shelter a man who is a criminal? He’s getting away with murder—actual murder—in order to capture others. He sold drugs to kids—kids just like ours—but we invite him into our classrooms to teach our kids how not to deal or do drugs? Isn’t that like making the wolf the shepherd?’” Jenk read it again under his breath and then said, “It is kind of tucked away in the rest of the piece, isn’t it?”
“I think this person—probably a mom who thinks her son wants to be cool like Leo or something—realized that the best way to get rid of this blight on their pristine community is to have his position exposed. I bet she doesn’t want us to find him as much as someone to find the blog and decide he’s not safe there.”
Jenk stood and whipped out his cellphone. “Del,” he said after one ring, “We’re going to Rockland. I think we’ve found Leo.”
A Camry pulled into a parking spot in front of the Pettler. A woman stepped out of the driver’s side and hurried to open the passenger door. She helped a man out of the car—Leo. There was no doubt of that, but Leo looked so very different. He’d lost weight, and the air of cockiness that once characterized him was gone. Leo looked broken. Del wouldn’t like that. He liked to do the breaking himself. Ernie watched as the chick helped Leo into the building and then turned, walking down the street to his waiting rental. Time to let Jenk know. They’d take him—and the chick too if she stuck around long enough—the minute the town went to sleep again. “That’ll be around ten in a place like this,” he muttered to himself.
Once inside the car, he punched the number. “Hey, it’s Ernie. He’s here all right. Got a hot chick with him too. Del’s gonna like her.”
“Good. Can you see them from where you are?”
“I can see her car and the front of the store. I can’t see both that and the entrance to his apartment though.”
“Maybe we need someone else there.”
“Everyone will stick out. Does Del know a chick in Rockland who wants to make some cash? She could hang out here in the front and I could hide in the alley…”
“I’ll have someone there in an hour. Meanwhile, circle the place as much as you can without attracting attention. Buy junk for your non-existent wife and kids. Make sure you get a latte. Everyone trusts a guy with a latte.”
“I’ll ask about Alexa Hartfield. Everyone will take me for a tourist.”
“Who?”
“That crazy writer lady who lives in her own world. She’s a local celebrity.”
“Never heard of her,” Jenk said.
“You’d like her books. They’re cool.”
Jenk was silent for a moment, making Ernie nervous, but he breathed normally again when Jenk said, “Buy one of her books then. People will assume you’re waiting around to catch her for an autograph.”
“Good idea. I’ll be less obvious if I appear to be very obvious.”
“That’s what I said, you idiot. Get out there and watch. I don’t want him getting away.”
Ernie shut the cheap disposable phone and shoved it in his pocket. The idea of Leo “getting away” made no sense. Leo didn’t seem to know he’d been outed. In fact, he seemed drunk when the girl brought him home. Early in the morning for a saint to be getting wasted, isn’t it? he thought to himself.
Time passed slowly as the town awakened. Cars slowly pulled into the parking places near The Grind. The Market opened, followed by the flower shop. One after another, the little stores around Fairbury’s square flipped their signs from closed to open and business began.
The bookstore had a stack of the latest Hartfield novel, Dread, by the register. “Hey, these autographed?”
The guy behind the counter nodded. “Yep. She comes in every couple of weeks and signs a bunch for me.”
“Cool.” It wasn’t. He’d rather have had a virgin book—an excuse to hang around looking for her—but he’d work with it. “What are the chances I’d see her walking around?”
“You want it personalized for someone?”
“Does she do that? That’d be great. I just kind of thought maybe a picture. My girlfriend is a huge fan.”
The man behind the counter laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see her out today. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen her, and I know she’s in town.”
“Hey, thanks,” Ernie said as he paid for the book. Just at the door, he turned and said, “You have a website? I’ll order all my Hartfield books from you if you do.”
“Hmm. That’s a good idea. I never thought of anyone buying from us because we can’t compete with places like Amazon, but if Alexa would let us advertise with signed copies…” The man came around the corner. “I’m Todd, by the way. Take my card. Call me before you buy one again. I’ll see what I can do. If she says yes, we’ll have a website up overnight.”
Outside the door, Ernie grin
ned. Now for the coffee. The idea revolted him. He hated coffee almost as much as lima beans and Brussels sprouts. It was his job, though. Some guys had to work sixty-hour weeks in a cubicle. He had to read a book and drink some coffee until nightfall. Not a bad life.
People smiled and nodded as they passed. They wouldn’t if they could read his mind—or would they? Shoppers wandered up and down the streets, stopping in little boutiques and enjoying free daisies from the flower shop. Would they feel so safe and secure if they saw Leo step from between the turn of the century buildings? He didn’t think so. Taking Leo out of the Rockwell-like picture would be doing the town a favor. People would stop coming if they felt like the town had become a haven for ex-cons.
Ernie’s throat went dry as a cop ran straight for him, pointing and ordering him to stop. He froze. Confused. He had to look confused. Any innocent person on the street would be confused. The cop looked furious. At the rate he ran, it seemed as if he would tackle Ernie in seconds. “Wha—”
He braced himself, but the officer passed him, grabbing the arm of a kid on a scooter just a few feet away. “Aiden, that scooter is mine.”
“Aw… I was just going home to get it.”
“I’ve heard that before,” the cop said. “It’s busy here. Come on, it’s Saturday. You’re gonna get yourself killed the next time you get hit. Helmet or no scooter, skateboard, bicycle…”
“Who says I’ll get hit? I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“Well, old man,” the cop said, “you’ll have to have your mom come get the scooter out of impound. Now go home.”
Furious, the kid stormed off. Ernie grinned. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a repeat offender there. Three strikes?”
“Three million,” the cop sighed. “He’s like a cat. First time I met him he was a pile of broken bones twisted up almost as bad as the scooter he’d been thrown from.”
“Kids never learn, do they?”
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