Tyler wondered if Sarah would hear about this herself through official channels, but he doubted it. He would be the one to tell her, and he supposed the sooner the better. It might go some way towards solidifying the trust between them and make her less likely to hold out on him.
It was frustrating knowing all these snippets of information and half-truths, and even more so the idea the rest of the information could be lost forever. Tyler found he was pacing the room as he had these thoughts and he looked out the window to the river and the trees of the forest beyond. A run in the woods would be just the thing he needed right now.
After changing quickly into his running gear and doing a few warm up stretches at the back door, Tyler set off in the sunny morning in to the dappled route through the trees he often used. The air beneath the canopy was cooler and it felt good for his body to get rid of the pent up energy and tension of the day so far. If there was one thing Tyler could honestly say he really liked, it was being out in nature like this, even if it was only on his own land.
Faster and faster he ran, the trees and bushes blurring as they whooshed past. Tyler ducked and weaved and jumped over fallen obstacles as his mind raced in many directions at once. Amongst those fleeting thoughts was his recollection of the time he’d suspected Spalding had possibly been here at Tyler’s house before. Lurking in the woods and watching him
If he had been here, what had he seen? Had anyone else been here with Tyler at the time? How many times had Spalding been here? The idea of getting some German Shepherds came as it had in the past, but he didn’t dwell on it.
Instead his mind moved to the overall plan. What was Spalding up to? What was his end game; the thing he hoped above all else to achieve in what he was doing? Many times, Tyler had lain awake thinking this same thing and though he’d come up with a hundred different ideas none of them seemed right. Was it simply a game to him?
Danny Kercheck’s grinning face came back to Tyler’s mind as he reached the narrow point of the river and thundered across the old rope bridge that ran from his land and onto State Forest. How completely hooked in Danny had been. It was like Spalding was his personal God and it was laughable for anyone to think they might be able to get the better of the serial killer.
Sarah could have died at the hands of ‘John the Baptist’ because of Danny’s frenzied loyalty to Spalding, but this only raised more questions. Did Spalding want Sarah killed back then? If so, did that make Tyler his plaything and not Sarah? Tyler didn’t think so; he felt Sarah was the key to Spalding’s plans. In what way was the mystery.
On and on Tyler ran. He did his best to clear his mind but it was hard. He topped a small rise where through a gap in the trees he was able to make out his own house. This always made him happy and he stopped a moment to take in the view. He’d been lucky to find this place, and luckier still to have inherited his parents' remaining money to be able to buy the house and land outright. The fact the neighbouring land was State Forest meant no one was ever going to be building and he would be able to live in seclusion for as long as he liked.
The news of his parent's death flashed in memory now, the call from the police at his door in Ellicott City where he’d lived at the time. The car had been a complete wreck. His mother died instantly and his father died a few days later in hospital having never recovered consciousness after the crash. He’d been drinking and probably lost control of the car. It had never been concluded if another car may have been involved or not.
By that time, Tyler and his parents had drifted apart. There had never been any great arguments and he’d been a good kid in school and then going to college but there was never anything close between them and Tyler’s guess was that none of them ever really understood why.
A jackdaw cawed on the air, calling for its mate perhaps and took his concentration back to the present. He looked down on his home again and wondered if Dwight Spading stood in this same spot in the last year. It seemed likely. It was part of his game to know where the players lived. How much did he know about Tyler, though, that was the key question.
Tyler’s work made him travel under the radar a lot, and he was sure not even Spalding, with his seemingly herculean intelligence gathering skills, could have kept track of him for very long at all. Still, it was something to keep in mind. Perhaps he should also scrutinise his own contacts and informants more thoroughly the next time he spoke to them. If Danny Kercheck could have been part of Spalding’s world, Tyler supposed anyone could have been.
He needed to be more guarded from now on. There were too many unknowns for comfort.
Chapter 17
CARSON LEMOND HAD BEEN keeping up with the newspapers and the TV reports of the efforts to find him. He’d been happy when the lead was way off but at the same time, he’d never felt under so much pressure in his life. He didn’t see a way out of this. Leaving the country was the only possibility but he had no idea about how to go about this without being caught. Canada was the most obvious location, but even there felt too close to home. South America or Europe would have to be the ultimate aim. It didn’t matter where so long as it was away from good ol’ Uncle Sam.
In the meantime, he would just have to ride things out as best he could, live off his wits. Every street corner was another terror, every police car or flashing light drew his eye—had they finally tracked him down. It was both frustrating and terribly upsetting. Carson couldn't even move in his old circles for fear the mob hitmen (who he was sure were looking for him too) would get wind of it.
Washington D.C wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be, but few people knew him here and it had done so far. Now he was meeting up with an old friend, Buddy Collins, in the hopes of making life easier. Carson just hoped Buddy was still the kind of friend you could reply on. They hadn’t seen one another in a few years but when Carson called Buddy at his workplace, he seemed pleased to hear from him.
As Carson waited in the dreary coffee shop on the even more dreary evening, his paranoia began to get the better of him. Of course the FBI or the police would have spoken to any contacts they could find—had they gone back far enough to find Buddy? Had the mob gotten to him? Was Buddy going to be paid well to sell his old friend to the cops or the killers?
‘Stop this,’ he told himself. Buddy wasn’t a criminal, never had been. He was a good guy and there was no way he'd turn Carson over to anyone before hearing his side of the story. At least the old Buddy would have heard him out first.
Carson looked at his watch, Buddy was late. Was he always late? He couldn’t recall. It was a terrible night with rain, perhaps the traffic was bad where he was coming from? The tension of waiting was magnified by a thousand times and with each passing moment, Carson had to resist the urge to get up and flee. He would come, he told himself, he would come.
But he didn’t come. Not in five minutes and not in ten. Fifteen minutes late was as much of Carson could take. He paid his coffee bill and went out into the driving rain. Perhaps if he stood across the street he could keep an eye on the coffee shop for a while to see if Buddy arrived.
Carson stationed himself in the doorway to a derelict building where he could be sheltered a little from the elements. An alleyway cut down from the side of this building at that would be his escape route should he need one. He’d come through that way already and saw only dumpsters and a few homeless lean to’s.
“I wondered how long you’d sit in there,” Buddy’s voice suddenly came from the alley and Carson jumped,
“Jesus man, you scared the shit out of me!” Buddy stepped out of the alley and smiled at him.
“You always did scare easy,” he said, before adding, “It’s good to see you.” He was moving out from the alley and Carson came down the steps to greet him and shake hands.
Buddy’s grip was as firm as ever and he pumped Carson’s hand and clasped his forearm with his other hand. “You look like shit,” he said laughing and Carson was sure this was the same old Buddy he’d known for all these years. It w
armed his heart and it was with great relief Carson felt he still had a friend in the world.
“I feel a hundred times worse than that,” he replied, holding back the unexpected emotion that almost brought tears to his eyes. Buddy looked at him sympathetically.
“You want to go over and get that coffee?” he asked nodding back towards the coffee shop.
“I need help man,” Carson blurted out, his voice sounding pathetic in his own ears; he couldn't hold it in any longer.
“Just tell me one thing, Carson,” Buddy said. Carson looked into his eyes and said,
“I didn’t do it, any of it.” Buddy nodded,
“That’s good enough for me,” he replied. “What do you need from me?”
“I don’t even know, I need to get out of the country but I have no idea how,” Carson said, getting some control of himself. Buddy looked like he was thinking and then looked back to Carson.
“Can you give me a day or two to sort something out?” he asked. For all the world Carson wanted to shout no, it had to be tonight, but he knew that was unreasonable. It would be rough going another day but he could do it.
“Whatever you need,” he found himself saying and then added, “Thanks, man.”
“I’m sorry I can’t do more,” Buddy said, “You got a place to stay tonight?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Carson said, the idea of staying with Buddy and getting him in serious trouble was not something he was willing to contemplate. He was already doing more than enough even talking to him, let alone being willing to help.
“You need money?” Buddy asked, and Carson saw how awkward his friend was in asking such a thing.
“Too much,” Carson smiled and Buddy grinned back.
“Okay, call me again tomorrow about this time, at work,” Buddy said, “I should have been able to sort out something for you by then. I imagine it will be a Canada run, that alright with you?” Carson nodded,
“Anywhere but here is fine with me,” he replied.
“What will you do when you get away?” Buddy asked.
“Whatever I can to prove I didn’t do this.”
“Well I certainly wish you luck in that. It’s a shitty thing. You know who really did it?” Buddy looked at him with interest.
“I saw him, but I don’t know who he is. Big guy, beard, but it was only for a moment and then he was gone.”
“Wrong place at the wrong time?”
“I don’t know,” Carson answered honestly. He’d been thinking some on this already and he didn’t think it could have been a complete coincidence. What he didn’t understand was what this bearded stranger could have against him. That was what made the least sense of all. “But I don't think so,” he finished. Buddy could see the thoughts processing in him and he asked no more on it.
“Sure you won’t have that coffee?” he asked instead.
“Nothing I’d like more, but my mind is not where it should be right now, I wouldn't be much company,” the grin was sheepish as Carson spoke.
“You never were,” Buddy joked and they both smiled. It seemed like a good way to leave things and they shook hands.
“Thanks Buddy, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry you’re going through all of this,” Buddy said.
“Me too,” Carson forced a wry smile.
Carson walked off down the alley feeling better than he had in recent days. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but there was hope now. Buddy would come through for him. He turned back to where Buddy had been but his friend was gone now. It had been good to see him. Perhaps if he’d stayed closer to Buddy things wouldn’t have gotten so bad in the first place.
Suddenly Carson felt a huge force against his shoulder and he turned to see a tall, wide man standing in front of him. With one hand he’d stopped Carson cold in his stride.
“Take this,” the man said and held up a sheet of paper. Carson looked from the man's face to the paper.
“What is it?” he asked, terribly afraid this was the mob hitman.
“A phone number of a man who will help you,” the man said. He shoved the paper at Carson who took it, looking for ways to strike him and wrangle free to run. No sooner had he taken the paper, though, than the man let him go and started to walk away.
“Who are you?” Carson called after him but the man didn’t answer and made no indication he’d even heard him. Carson watched after him for a time and then when he was far enough away looked at the paper. It had the name Tyler Ford on it and a phone number.
Who the hell was Tyler Ford?
Chapter 18
TYLER WAS AT HIS DESK finishing up a story about a crooked land deal that he was very happy to be seeing the end of. It had been a long drawn out investigation, but he had found out what he needed and was ready to publish. There was no sense of triumph, however, and he knew why. This wasn’t the story he wanted to be breaking.
Sarah still hadn’t come back to him with news from the FBI attempt to finish the message and he wondered if he was being left out of the loop or if it was possible they still hadn’t come up with a definitive answer? He hoped it was the latter.
The weight of his cell phone at his thigh made itself known to him. If he didn’t hear back by tonight Tyler was going to call Sarah himself.
As if through some sorcerer's magic, the phone suddenly started to vibrate and Tyler pulled it out expecting to see Sarah’s name on the screen. He was surprised to see that it was not her, but was instead one of his contacts in Washington D.C. who’d helped him on the very story he was filing.
“Hey,” he said as he answered, looking around the room to make sure he was still alone.
“Hi, I got something for you,” Buddy said.
“I’m done with the land deals story, Buddy, it will be in tomorrow’s paper,” Tyler said.
“It’s not about that,” Buddy said but he seemed to pause there.
“What is it then?” Tyler asked, taking up a pen and moving his notebook to a clean page.
“You’ve heard of Carson Lemond, I suppose?”
“Of course, it’s all over the news,” Tyler was getting excited but did his best not to let it show in his voice. “What about him?”
“I know him,” Buddy said and there was that pause again and that told Tyler whatever he was about to find out it was going to be big.
“Really?” he cajoled lightly. Making it sound like this wasn’t all that interesting.
“He’s innocent,” Buddy said.
“Do you think that or know that?” Tyler asked.
“I know it. I spoke to him last night.”
“In person?” Tyler asked, knowing though that he was right.
“Yes, face to face. I couldn’t be more sure about his innocence.”
“Does he know who did do these crimes?”
“I don’t think so. If he does he didn’t tell me,” Buddy replied.
Tyler thought for a moment and then asked,
“Why are you coming to me with this?”
“I don’t know really,” Buddy admitted, “I guess I trust you and I thought you might be able to help him in some way.” Tyler was glad to hear this but still cautious, afraid to let an opportunity slip away.
“Can you put him in touch with me?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know if he’ll want to talk to you,” Buddy said.
“Well, I don’t know what I can do for him if he doesn’t want to talk to me,” Tyler replied. It seemed clear Carson Lemond was not in on this idea of Buddy’s.
“I don’t know either,” Buddy said, sighing. “He’ll be out of the country soon anyway, maybe that's for the best.”
“He’s leaving the country?” Tyler asked, “That won’t look good for him.”
“I guess not, but I think he’d rather start over anywhere than go to jail here for something he didn’t do.” They were silent a moment then as Tyler thought.
“When do you suppose he’ll be gone?” the reporter asked.
“Soon.” That seemed final to Tyler and Buddy sounded defeated, like he thought Tyler was a last shot at saving his friend and it hadn’t worked out. Which of course it hadn’t, Tyler had nothing to work with here; there was absolutely nothing he could do other than tell Sarah what he now knew (keeping his source anonymous of course) to get brownie points from her and hopefully draw her in closer again.
“I’ll look into it,” Tyler said finally, “But that’s all I can promise.”
“Yeah, thanks Tyler. Fingers crossed he finds a way to prove his innocence.”
“Fingers crossed,” Tyler replied.
EVENING FELL AND TYLER was now at home. Sarah had still not called and he was thinking it was time to call her and fill her in on the Carson Lemond information. He would have to tell her he’d just found out, though. There was no way she’d appreciate the fact he’d been sitting on this for hours now and hadn’t told her. He ran through in his head what he would say to her, making it sound breathless like he'd just gotten off the call and dialled her immediately.
He lifted his cell phone and swiped up the contacts list and then his landline phone by his desk began to shrill. He looked at it a moment, wondering if he should ignore it and just call Sarah, but then he thought it could be her, or it could be something even better. Crossing the room in three long strides he picked up the phone,
“Hello?” At once he heard the rasping metallic sound foreshadowing the voice he knew he was about to hear. It was him again, it was Spalding!
“Hello Tyler,” the voice said, “I expect you are happy to receive my call?”
“Interested would be closer to the word I’d use,” Tyler said.
“Well, you are the writer, so I will have to bow to you on that one,” the voice laughed, the sound evil with the disguising metallic tone.
“Did you call to tell me to be wary of Agent Brightwater again?” Tyler asked knowing the call would be brief and wanting to get to the meaty part of things quickly.
A Clattering of Jackdaws (The Birdwatcher Series Book 2) Page 7
