Wrong Exit: Nick Stryker Series, Book Four

by Vicki Graybosch

  Nick knew he wouldn’t get back to the precinct for some time. “Get extra guards for these guys in lockup. They have the same boss as the ones that were shot earlier. I’m just going to let them stew for a few hours.”

  Wayne said, “No problem. Look, based on what Phillips is going to tell you I think I’m going to hang around. You and Jen might need an extra gun.”

  “That’s an attention-getting statement.”

  Wayne added, “Phillips says you’re in the wrong crosshairs.”

  “Great. Can you put Phillips on?”

  Agent Phillips took Wayne’s phone. “Stryker? Do you remember J.T. Barrimore?”

  ******

  Kevin and Darla took the elevator back to the parking garage in Dr. Sanford’s building in silence. The last hour had been more than a little frightening under the interrogation of the FBI agents. Kevin’s training as a reporter quickly confirmed to him that Jason was not an innocent bystander. Especially when the FBI found the three flash drives in his pocket.

  Darla shifted the camera strap on her shoulder and sighed, “At least I remembered Agent Phillips’ name from this morning. You could say I saved us from being arrested.” She glanced quickly at Kevin’s frown.

  “You saved us? Was it when you told the FBI we were illegally ‘spying’ on Dr. Sanford or when you told them my brother and your friends had confessed to murder?” Kevin took a deep breath as the parking garage elevator opened for their floor. “Oh, wait! Maybe the fact that you had two guns in your purse is what convinced them we were innocent!”

  Darla shrugged, “Like I said, good thing they called Agent Phillips. Dolly’s going to be mad they kept the guns.”

  Kevin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Did you see that agent’s face when you said the guns were okay, they were properly registered…just not to you?”

  “At least I didn’t leave a hidden recorder going.”

  They reached the car and Kevin let out a big sigh. He had a picture of Derrick taped to the dash. “I guess we don’t need this anymore…”

  Darla interrupted him. “Look at that man walking to the elevator. It’s him!”

  “Who?”

  “Sanford!”

  Kevin glanced first at the picture and then back to the man. “Holy shit. You’re right.”

  Darla had her hand on the door handle. “We should stop him. Once the FBI has him we won’t be able to ask him any questions.”

  Sanford was nearly to the elevator. Kevin didn’t see the benefit of stopping Sanford. He wasn’t going to talk to them and looked to be in a hurry. Just then Kevin felt a rush of fresh air enter the car and saw Darla running toward Sanford screaming.

  “Dr. Sanford, freeze! FBI!”

  Sanford stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to face Darla. He had a frenzied look on his face.

  Darla shrugged. “Well, I’m not FBI but they’re waiting for you in your office. I have some questions for you about your Mandarin program…”

  Sanford started walking toward Darla. When he got within a few feet of her he lunged and pushed her to the pavement. Kevin watched through his windshield in horror as Sanford ran to his S.U.V., pulled out of his parking space and floored the vehicle toward Darla. She saw the S.U.V. coming at her and rolled off to the side. Sanford kept going.

  Kevin leaped from the car and ran to Darla’s side. “Are you okay? What the hell were you thinking? What did you say to him?”

  Darla grabbed Kevin’s hands for a boost up and started running for the car. “Come on! We’re gonna catch that wacko!”

  Kevin ran after her, started his car and began their chase as Darla pounded on his car’s dash.

  “Did you see that? He almost ran me over!” Darla kept thumping the dash with her palms. “He’s got that crazy look in his eyes, you know? The kind they have in mug shots…all buggy and weird.”

  Kevin was getting a headache. “Can you stop hitting the dash? It isn’t making us go any faster.”

  Darla exhaled, “I noticed. What kind of reporter drives a four-cylinder Ford with knitting baskets in the back seat? I thought you guys were ambulance chasers.”

  Kevin struggled to keep Sanford’s S.U.V. in his sight. “This is my Grandma’s car, remember? Mine got shot up this afternoon.” Chasing Sanford made Kevin think about Peter. If the FBI was after Sanford, Peter may be in more danger than he thought. “What’s our plan if we catch Sanford?”

  Darla tapped her index finger on her chin. “I don’t know. I guess we keep him cornered and call the FBI or something. You’re the reporter…we get a story.”

  Darla mentioning ‘getting a story’ made Kevin remember that Jack had ordered him to do a story on being shot and also on the shooting at the 107th precinct. He moaned at the thought of the tongue lashing Jack would have waiting for him. Kevin’s mind suddenly flipped to Sharon. Surely Stryker had some kind of news by now.

  ******

  Nick’s conversation with Phillips had been troubling. If J.T. Barrimore was involved in the hypnotic software case, it certainly amped up the stakes. J.T.’s company provided security and sophisticated intelligence data for the international crime Family. Both the FBI and the C.I.A. were aware of J.T.’s business but had failed to prove anything against him. It was foolish for J.T. to tease Nick with the painting; but J.T. was no fool. Something else was going on.

  Nick glanced over to Jen, he knew she was waiting for an update.

  “Do you remember last year when I got sucked into that science case between the FBI and the C.I.A.?”

  Jen slowly answered, “Yes.”

  “There is an International Family mobster who was in the middle of that. He made a deal with the C.I.A. in exchange for anonymity. His name is J.T. Barrimore. Bad dude.” Nick paused. “Wayne found a frame on the gallery video that showed the purchaser of Cynthia’s painting. It was J.T.”

  Jen asked, “He’s the one that sent the painting to you? Why?”

  Nick answered, “Good question. Phillips says they have a tip that J.T. purchased this hypnotizing program from Dr. Sanford.”

  “Sanford? The same Sanford whose daughter just got shot?”

  “Yep. The FBI wants Sanford. J.T. Barrimore is not the kind of guy who should have that program.” Nick spoke his thoughts out loud. “Sanford needed a lot of money for his daughter’s surgery tomorrow. Selling that program may have been the cash cow. These two cases are connected by Sanford.”

  “So this hypnotizing program is the second train?”

  “Seems to be where this is going. Havin’ fun yet?”

  Nick’s cell rang with a message from Lacey, his fiancé. He glanced at the screen and smiled. She had written:

  I’m having a great time. REALLY miss you. LOVE you. Stay safe. Sending pic so you can see what you’re missing.

  Nick tapped on the attachment and frowned. Lacey’s selfie showed Lucas Costellano with a woman sitting at a table directly behind her.

  Jen pulled their car up to the east garage entry to Sunrise Hospital, put it in park and unbuckled her seat belt. The entrance to the hospital was swarmed with police vehicles. The coroner’s van sat in the midst of the chaos.

  Jen turned to Nick. “Heather Sanford got shot on the second floor and we’re heading for the basement. This is a very bad day for Dr. Anthony Scalla.”

  “He’s not the only one that’s having a bad day.”

  Nick held up his phone. “You want the good news or the bad news?”

  Jen said, “Good news.”

  Nick grinned, “Lacey still loves me. She sent me a selfie from Legends. She’s watching Buddy Guy.”

  Nick held the phone out for Jen to see. “Now the bad news. Look who’s sitting behind her.”

  ******

  Derrick gripped his steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He felt as if he was a character in his own horrific nightmare. Images filled his mind of Heather being shot and Gill Mackey pointing his pistol at them. The look on Gill’s face was like a knife to Derrick�
�s heart. He knew. He recognized Gill’s face from his program bio. Gill had been programed to shoot Derrick. The only person that could have done that was J.T. Barrimore.

  He couldn’t go back to his office; the FBI were there. Why? It had to be about his program. He didn’t care anymore, Heather was gone. He had to find Barrimore. All he could think of was the nightclub. Maybe he was there. Then what? He had no gun, no killing skills…he had a car. He’d wait for J.T. to leave the nightclub and run him down…over and over…as many times as it took. Or he’d follow him to his home, barricade the doors and set it on fire. Anything, anything that would make J.T. suffer.

  Cars blasted their horns at him and screeched their tires to let him pass. He willed himself to pay attention. He needed to live long enough to watch J.T. die.

  ******

  Kevin was leaning forward against his steering wheel. The old Ford struggled to maintain enough speed to keep up with Sanford. Darla gripped the dash and the shoulder strap next to her. She yelled to be heard over the screaming motor. “I don’t know whether to worry we’re goin’ to crash or that the engine’s goin’ to explode.”

  Kevin saw Derrick’s car turn off to the right up ahead. “Where are you going old man?”

  Darla held her breath as the gap closed between their car and the car in front of them. “Look out! They’re turning!”

  Kevin checked his mirrors, yanked the steering wheel to the left lane and immediately back to the right after they passed the turning car. Within yards he yanked the steering wheel to the right again where Derrick had turned. They took the corner too wide and too fast. Kevin worried the little car was going to roll over.

  Darla screamed, “I see him! He turned left at the light.”

  Kevin’s jaw set and his lips pursed. “He better land somewhere soon, we’re almost out of gas.”

  They turned left at the light and couldn’t see the S.U.V. anywhere. Kevin slowed the car way down. “He must have pulled off at one of these businesses.”

  Darla whipped her head to the right. “Turn around. I bet I know where he went.”

  Kevin made an illegal U-turn and glanced at her. Darla pointed to a neon sign of a cocktail waitress holding a martini glass. Kevin frowned. “You really think he was in that kind of hurry to come here?”

  Darla shrugged, “Call it a hunch. All we gotta do is drive slow through the parking lot. What can we lose? We’ve already lost him.”

  A tall row of finely manicured hedges lined the street and shielded the parking lot from street view. Kevin was shocked at the number of cars in the parking lot. This was a thriving business. The brick and brass building was modern and well maintained. If the sign had read ‘Fine Dining’ he would have believed it. “This sure doesn’t look like a strip joint.”

  Darla’s eyes scanned a group of men entering the building. “Those dudes are all wearing suits. Look, there’s even a valet!”

  Kevin’s glance followed Darla’s pointing finger toward the glass front doors. A muscular man stood like a statue with his hands folded at his waist. “Looks more like a bouncer to me.”

  Darla pointed to a row of cars on the far left. “Isn’t that Sanford over there? Just sittin’ in that S.U.V. staring at the door.”

  Kevin squinted, “I think you’re right.”

  The parking lot lights snapped on creating rows of amber orbs above the cars. Dusk was surrendering to the shadows of night.

  Darla looked at her watch. “It’s almost eight o’clock! He best do something soon, I’m starving. Think Granny has any food in this car?” Darla reached to the back seat and began ruffling through the stacks of clothing and craft bags.

  Kevin kept his eyes on Sanford’s S.U.V. as he parked directly across the lot from him. His mind swarmed with everything he needed to do, yet here he sat in a strip club parking lot. Sanders didn’t look like he was going anywhere fast. He was just glaring at the front entrance.

  Kevin said, “Maybe he’s meeting someone?”

  “If we’re gonna just sit here, I’m gonna find us some food. Gotta be a candy bar or somethin’.”

  Darla squealed, “Yeah, Granny! Got a whole box of Twinkies back here and some bottled water. I think it’s her survival kit for winter storms. Got some battery operated socks and gloves too.”

  Kevin’s stomach growled. “What’s the expiration date on the Twinkies?”

  “Everybody knows Twinkies don’t expire!”

  ******

  Inside the night club J.T. answered a call from his security manager. “A couple of cars in the lot are acting odd. Check out camera’s two and five.”

  J.T. tapped the app for his security cameras and watched a couple in an old Ford eating. He moved to camera 5 to a man in an S.U.V. just staring at the nightclub entrance. J.T. adjusted the camera to zoom in on the image of the man’s face. It was Derrick Sanford. J.T. looked at his watch. Obviously, Sanford hadn’t been killed by Gill Mackey. Something had gone wrong.

  J.T. logged into the Chicago Police Central Control call log. There was a homicide call for Sunrise Hospital 45 minutes ago. Victim, Heather Sanford. J.T. switched back to camera two, the couple was still eating and showed little interest in the nightclub. Camera five showed Derrick still staring at the entrance.

  J. T. studied Derrick’s face. He was agitated, crying. He knew his daughter had been killed. He may have figured out that J.T. had ordered the shooting using a program subject. In that case, he was here for revenge.

  J.T. spoke into his phone to his security manager. “The man in the white S.U.V. needs to disappear. Get rid of the S.U.V., too.” He watched his camera feed as three of his men rushed Derrick’s S.U.V. and held him at gunpoint.

  One man had Derrick at gunpoint and had him get out of the S.U.V. The man with the gun and Derrick both got into the back seat. Another man took over as the driver. The third man followed Derrick’s S.U.V. out of the parking lot in another car.

  J.T. deleted the last ten minutes’ camera feed on camera five. Derrick Sanford was the only link between him and the program. Sanford was going to die tonight but not on J.T.’s property.

  ******

  Kevin shouted, “Holy shit! What’s happening?”

  Darla snapped her seatbelt back on and cinched it. “Seems the FBI ain’t the only folks who want Sanford.”

  Kevin waited until Sanford’s S.U.V. and the car following had entered the traffic on the main road before he pulled from their parking spot.

  “Try to write down that car’s license number when I catch up.”

  Darla dug in her purse for paper and pen. She watched through the windshield as the S.U.V. got farther ahead of them. Her chin dropped and she turned to face Kevin. “I could run faster than this! Just how do you expect me to ever read their plates?”

  They hadn’t driven more than four blocks when their car’s engine started to sputter.

  Kevin slapped the steering wheel. “Well, that’s it, we’re done. Sanford is on his own.”

  He eased to the far right lane and pulled into a gas station as the little Ford glided to a silent stop in front of the pump.

  Darla said, “This here is a sign from the Heavens. We’re not meant to follow that trouble.” She opened another Twinkie and took a bite. “I’ll call that FBI dude.”

  Darla handed Kevin Agent Phillips’ card. “On second thought, you’d better call. Try to leave out the part about me warning Sanford the FBI was in his office.”

  C H A P T E R 21

  A patrol officer waited at the east garage entrance of Sunrise Hospital to hand Nick his search warrant. Nick thanked him and handed the warrant to Jen. “See if it is signed by Judge White.”

  Jen smiled and flipped to the last page. “Yep.” She tucked the folded document into her jacket. “The pressure just went up. If Sharon hadn’t escaped, we wouldn’t have this.”

  Nick glanced at his notebook for the code Lucas had given Sal for the garage and elevator at Sunrise. Inside the garage a steel gurney was pushed against
the far wall. Every surface gleamed and reflected the bright lights from the ceiling. He entered 4270 on the touch pad outside the elevator. The large steel elevator doors opened with a hydraulic hiss and Jen and Nick stepped in.

  Nick could feel his adrenaline pumping. The rage had been building in his heart since the discovery of the Schultz family bodies at the brewery this morning. He knew they would not have made it this far in their investigation had it not been for a series of lucky breaks. He prayed that they continued just a little bit longer.

  Nick looked at Jen. “The GPS history showed that Sharon was here this morning, there has to be some kind of proof.”

  Jen asked, “What restrictions are on our search warrant?”

  Nick pushed the down arrow button. “None. After I told the Assistant D.A. what we had on this place, she gave us unlimited authority and wished us luck. Crime techs are on their way to swab this whole hospital if we want.”

  “These guys have a lot to lose. I’m worried they’ve covered their tracks.” She glanced at Nick. “That could be a problem.”

  Nick nodded. “You don’t think the Chief will appreciate it if we come up dry? Not to mention Judge White will have my head.” He thought about the hell that already awaited them when they returned to the precinct. “I guess we better find something then.”

  The elevator doors opened and Tony was standing over a metal tray of instruments next to a gurney. Without turning around, he filled a needle from a vile and said, “Bring her over here.” He tapped the side of the needle and placed it on the tray.

  Nick’s eyes scanned the expansive room filled with gurneys and sophisticated equipment. Behind large glass windows an operating area sat dark and sterile waiting for the next patient. The specimen room held rows of treasured human organs being kept viable in large cylinders. The air smelled of antiseptics and there was the faint beeping of monitoring equipment.