“There’s something in the bedroom,” she said.
He looked up at her. “What is it?”
“Come here.” She went back to the room and showed him the safe.
He knelt and dug through there, coming out with a leather notebook. It was a contact book, but she saw that it also had a list of passwords. He found the one he needed and went back to the computer. As soon as he was on, his fingers tapped rapidly. Several windows came up, most of them showing code Savanna didn’t pretend to understand.
After scrolling through several lines, he finally slowed, interpreting the code with a deepening brow.
“This code is complicated but I think I can slow them down,” he said, typing away.
“What is it?”
“It will enable them to steal the identities of all employees at each organization where Tony placed contractors.”
“That’s it?” That seemed off to Savanna. Why go to all the trouble to employ people when all they had to do was use a virus or something? “It can’t just be that. Those places are too important to our economy and our way of life.”
“I agree.” He paused, reading the code he’d inserted into a portion of Adam’s. Then he began typing again. “Adam is probably only one piece of this. Tony must have other contacts, other computer hackers working this.”
Savanna thought a moment. “One who will design a virus for the emergency systems company. One who will either contaminate or destroy the water treatment plants. That type of thing?”
“Exactly.”
She rubbed her arms against the chill that prickled her skin.
He closed the programs he’d opened and then the computer. Standing, he started for the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
She walked with him down the hall. “What did you do to the code?”
“Planted a virus. It’ll take him a while to find it. If he ever does.”
“Your first good deed as a law-abiding citizen.”
He half smiled at that, and she suspected he wasn’t sure if he should take that as a compliment.
“You could do that for a living, you know.” Or for something to do. He didn’t have to work, like her.
“Hack for the good guys?” Now his smile was genuine. “I suppose I could.”
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do when this is all over?”
They reached the car and got in. He hadn’t answered yet, and she saw that the question had gotten him thinking about something heavy.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I should go see my parents.”
“What’s stopping you?” He’d hinted at their being disappointed, and she could see why, but they were his parents.
“I don’t know if they want me to. Not anymore.”
“It’s never too late, Korbin. They’d want to know you’ve changed your ways. They’d probably celebrate with you, and welcome their son back.”
He laughed cynically. “You don’t know my parents.”
“They’re wealthy and have affluent friends, and you probably embarrass them every time the subject of you and the trouble you’re in comes up.”
“I have always been in trouble. In school, after school. Now...”
“But you won’t be after this.” She angled her head as she studied him. “Will you?”
He grunted. “No. Not unless somebody frames me again.”
“Then there you go. Things are different now. You should call them. They’d probably like to know you didn’t kill anyone. You shouldn’t let them keep thinking that you’ve done these horrible crimes. Can you imagine what that must be doing to them?”
His reluctance over talking to his parents changed to concern. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
Had he thought they’d know he was framed? Even after being estranged for however many years?
“You should call them. Tonight.”
* * *
Korbin paced the RV living room. Savanna sat with her feet up on the coffee table, having changed into a long T-shirt and shorts. Her hair was still up in that sexy do, but she’d washed all the makeup off. He was still in his trousers, but had stripped down to the white T-shirt and was barefoot. He’d noticed Savanna checking out his chest a few times, but he was too torn over whether she was right about contacting his parents or not.
“Would you like me to leave you alone?” she asked.
He stopped walking. “No.” Actually, having her near would make it better, easier. He couldn’t explain why. He wouldn’t be embarrassed talking in front of her. She was more of an anchor.
“Call them,” she urged.
When he just stood there staring at her, she patted the sofa next to her.
He went there and sat. He leaned forward and looked down at his phone.
Savanna reached over and took his phone. Seeing he’d made it to their contact information, she pressed the call button and handed it back to him.
“Hey,” he said too late.
“They’re your parents, not the IRS.”
He put the already-ringing phone to his ear, marveling at her tough-love methods.
“Hello?” His mother sounded shaken. She must recognize the number. Of course, why wouldn’t she?
He felt like a dolt. “Mom.”
“Korbin.” He heard her breathing faster and then she called for his dad. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m okay. I—”
“Where are you?”
“I’m safe. Still in Colorado.”
“Oh, Korbin. Why haven’t you called us sooner?”
This was not what he expected. “I’m just wanted to call and tell you that—”
“We’ve been going out of our minds with worry. The news...” She let out a breathy grunt. “It’s been pure torture. What’s going on, Korbin?”
“None of it is true.”
“What? What’s not true?”
“I didn’t kill anyone. Damen did something that I’m trying to make right. I’m close, but until I have proof, the police will be looking for me.”
“Oh, Korbin.” There was that disappointment he’d heard before. She told his dad who was on the phone.
“Your dad’s going to pick up another line. Didn’t we warn you about that boy? Damen was never good for you.”
“I know, Mom. At least, now I do.”
He heard his dad pick up the line.
“What about Fallon? Did she really see you the night of the hit-and-run? When we heard that...” Another breathy grunt. “We just couldn’t believe you’d do it, even by accident. You got yourself in trouble, but not that kind. We just...”
“Yes, Mom, she did see me that night. She hasn’t spoken to me since the funeral. But she must have changed her mind, or was close to it.”
“So, she didn’t go in? We couldn’t tell from the news. They didn’t say. Have you spoken with her?”
“No, not yet. She didn’t come to the door that night, only saw me in the house.” She hadn’t been quite ready. “I’ll try to get in touch with her. With the media...”
“How did this all start? How did you get yourself in this situation?” This question came from his dad. He wasn’t as forgiving as his mother.
“I wanted out,” he said. “After Niya died...after I grieved for a while, I realized this isn’t what I was meant to do. I told Damen ‘no more.’ He didn’t like that.” He explained the entire story about Collette. “I don’t think he would have killed her if he hadn’t known she was leaving and I was helping her.”
“He’d have just set you up for the hit-and-run,” his mother said.
“Yes.”
There was a long silence.
“What will you do after you pr
ove Damen killed her?”
If he could prove it. That was something that wasn’t being said. “I’m not sure yet.”
“What about this woman we keep hearing about?” his mother asked. “Jackson Ivy’s daughter?”
“She’s helping me.”
“How is she helping you? Macon Ivy told reporters this morning that you got stuck on her road and that’s how you ended up together.”
His parents had been getting all their information from the media. “She just is.”
“You may have gone off with a bunch of thugs, Korbin, but I still know you. There’s something there between you. Macon claimed you were innocent and that his sister was in good hands.”
“Mother...”
“Honey,” his dad said.
“I’m just happy he called.”
“Don’t forget the choices he’s made. And he may still pay for them with prison time,” his dad said. “Whether innocent of the crime you’re charged with or not, you probably deserve some time behind bars.”
“Maybe I do. But not for murder.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve had it with all you’ve put me and your mother through. Your mother especially. Did you have it so bad growing up? No, you didn’t. Most kids would give a limb to have the life you did as a kid. And look what kind of thanks we get.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” There was nothing else to say. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“You’ve been nothing but trouble since you were fourteen.”
“I’d like a chance to change that.”
“It’s a little late, don’t you think? You can’t even decide definitively what you’re going to do with the rest of your life. You’re almost forty. Crying out loud. If you don’t know by now, you never will.”
“Honey.” Now it was his mother who used the endearment.
“You’ve had plenty of opportunity to change before now. Why should we believe you mean it this time?”
“Because this time I mean it.”
“It takes being accused of murder to realize that? Two people have died.”
Korbin lifted his free hand and rubbed his forehead. “Three.”
Don’t forget his wife. She was the one who’d changed him.
“Well, great. Congratulations. My smart son. It takes your wife dying to realize crime isn’t worth it.”
“Honey, stop.” His mother began to cry.
Korbin felt like crying with her. His dad was right. He should have known sooner. Maybe he had, but he hadn’t paid attention. He’d gotten so entrenched in the life that he’d missed all the signs. Adolescent rebellion had grown into habit. Routine. And then there had been nothing routine about his wife’s shooting.
“I’ll call you when it’s over,” he said. “I’m sorry, Mother.” Listening to her weeping was absolute torture. “I never meant to hurt you.”
With that, he hung up. It had taken his wife’s dying to realize crime wasn’t worth it. But if there was ever a way to make something positive in her death, it was turning his life around. To do that, he had to stay out of prison.
Chapter 15
Shutting his car door, Demarco backed out of the parking space in front of his house. Driving out of the lot, he headed for work. Turning on the stereo, the satellite radio was tuned in to a news channel and they were talking about Korbin and Savanna. It was believed that they had returned to Denver. Someone had spotted them in a Class A motor home and police were now searching for them in that. They were turning into a real Bonnie-and-Clyde story. Savanna was with Korbin willingly and there was speculation that Korbin may be innocent.
Movement in the backseat brought his eyes to the rearview mirror.
Damen sat up. “Hello, brother.”
What was he doing hiding in the backseat? When he pushed the barrel of a gun to Demarco’s ribs, he had his answer.
“You shouldn’t have left me in Pagosa Springs,” Damen said. “We still had a lot to talk about.”
Demarco was scared out of his mind, but he didn’t show it. In the past he could reason with Damen to keep him in line. Now he had no idea how to approach him, how to convince him what a mistake he was making. Killing him would only result in another murder charge. He thought of Cora, of their life. When Damen had sneered that he had a perfect wife and a perfect life, he had been right. Demarco felt lucky to have what he had. He was happy. He wished Damen could have found that for himself.
“Now you’re going to shoot your own twin brother?” Demarco asked.
“Only if you don’t do what I tell you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that? Isn’t keeping your secret enough?” He didn’t care how angry he sounded. He was sick of this.
“Well, see, now there’s where I’ve got a problem. You know I used Korbin’s gun to kill Collette. If you go to the cops with what you know, I’ll be arrested. And I just can’t let that happen.”
Demarco hadn’t known it was Korbin’s gun, but now he did. “If I was going to go to the cops, don’t you think I would have by now?” He should have. Right from the beginning. That very morning. He shouldn’t have thought about it. He should have just done it and thought about it later. Gone through the grief after the fact.
“You’re having an attack of conscience. I know you. I can tell. You had one in Pagosa Springs. That’s why you left. You’re starting to turn away from me.”
“You’re turning into a crazy man.”
“Then give this crazy man your cell phone.”
Demarco pulled it from his shirt pocket and handed it over.
“Good. Now drive to the next exit. We’re going to my house.”
Demarco drove there, going slow and hoping for a lucky break. None came and Damen didn’t change his mind. It amazed him that his own twin could shut off any sentiments he had. By the time he pulled into Damen’s garage, he was convinced his brother was quite capable of killing him.
Cora. Cora. I’m so sorry, my love.
When the garage door closed, Damen told him to get out.
Demarco debated whether he should try to fight his brother now. Growing up, Damen had been the tougher one. Demarco was more academic and had no taste for violence.
He went into the house and saw another man there. Damen’s mysterious friend, Tony.
“We have more trouble,” that one said.
“What are you two up to?” Demarco asked.
“He’s the one who’s going to make me a lot of money. If you’d have kept your nose out of my affairs, you’d have reaped some benefits of that.”
“Hurry up with him, we need to get going,” Tony said.
“Where to?”
“Adam had a break-in at his house.”
That stopped Damen short. “Who would do that?”
“Has to be Maguire and that Ivy woman. They’re getting too close, Damen. It’s time to take care of them once and for all.”
Damen swore a few times. Giving Demarco a shove, he said, “In the basement.”
Demarco went to the stairway door, which was open, and went down the stairs. Tony followed.
“Was anything missing?” Damen asked.
“No, but Adam said he thinks someone was on his computer. We have to assume they know.”
Damen spat out more curses.
In the basement, Demarco saw that Damen had been busy remodeling. He’d constructed a square room out of plywood and put in an iron-bar door with a padlock on it. There was a twin bed inside, and the room had been built off the bathroom.
How considerate of his twin.
Demarco turned to face Damen. “What do they know?”
“In the room.” He pointed with his gun.
“Damen, there’s no need to lock me up.”
“It’s ei
ther that or Tony here is going to kill you.”
Tony folded his arms. “That’s what we should have done already.”
“See?” Damen said. “I’m saving your life by doing this.”
If Demarco was locked in this room, his chances of escape were dismal. Hitting Damen’s wrist, he shoved him into Tony and made a run for it. He charged up the stairs. On the last step, someone grabbed his ankle and he fell onto the kitchen floor. Rolling to his side, he saw that it was Tony. Demarco kicked his face with his other foot. That sent him backward and loosened his hold.
Demarco got to his feet and ran through the house. Tony was on his heels.
At the front door, Demarco had the handle in his hand when Tony grabbed him and threw him away. Sprawled on the living room floor, Demarco saw Tony pull out a gun.
All he could do was watch, waiting for a bullet.
“Wait!” Damen shouted. “Don’t shoot him.”
“He’s too much of a risk.”
Damen stepped in front of Demarco, who sagged in relief.
“Look, I know he’s your twin brother, but you’re in this too deep, Damen. We have to get rid of him. You can wait out in the car. I’ll do it.”
“No. He goes in the room downstairs.” Damen faced Demarco. “Come on.”
Demarco stood and Damen gestured for him to go to the basement. With Tony still aiming the gun, about to kill him anyway, Demarco went ahead of Damen.
In the basement, he entered the room and Damen closed the door and locked it.
“You can’t keep me in here forever,” Demarco said, watching Damen play with the key and realize what he was saying. Eventually he’d have to let Tony kill him.
“Damen, this is wrong. Get rid of that guy and let me help you. I’ll get you a good lawyer for the hit-and-run and Collette’s murder. It’s not too late. You can still have a good life.”
The Eligible Suspect Page 19
