Fugitive at Large

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Fugitive at Large Page 8

by Sandra Robbins


  Jessica’s face grew warm. “I didn’t realize I’d spoken. I’ve been enjoying the scenery, and the verse about creation came to mind. I suppose it was a prayer of thanks that I breathed out loud.”

  He smiled and directed his gaze back to the highway. “Your deep faith in God was always one of the things I admired most about you.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “That’s a shock. You never would listen to me when I tried to tell you what trusting God had meant in my life. And if I ever invited you to go to church or to a Bible study with me, you always had an excuse.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry about that.” He glanced at her. “But I was listening, Jessica. After you transferred out and wouldn’t talk to me, I was so miserable trying to cope with my job and with Jamie that I decided to see what all that faith stuff was about.”

  “What did you do?”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t know where to start. I wanted to ask you, but you weren’t around anymore. So I asked the precinct chaplain. He told me about a Bible-study group he thought I might enjoy. It was taught by a young preacher at a church near where I lived. I went one night, and I felt at home from the beginning. The group was made up of people like me, men and women searching for something to give their lives meaning. After two months in the group, I turned my life over to God, and I’ve never been happier or more at peace.”

  Jessica reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m so happy for you, Ryan. Do you attend church anywhere?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I go to Grace Community Church, the same place where I started with the Bible-study group. And I mentor some of the high school guys there.”

  She could hardly believe what he was saying. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just didn’t come up, but I wanted you to know.” He paused a moment and took a deep breath. “If it wasn’t for you, Jessica, I never would have gone to that Bible study. I kept thinking about all the things you’d said to me about how God had taken care of you, and I wanted that in my life.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned her head to stare out the window. “So even though you thought I was unreasonable and behaving contrary to how a Christian should act, you wanted what I had in my life.”

  He exhaled a deep breath. “One of the first things I learned from reading the Bible was that nobody is perfect. We all make mistakes, but if God can forgive us for those things then we should forgive each other also. I’ve prayed ever since that one day you would forgive me for the mistakes I made. I hope you have.”

  The past few days had brought many unexpected things into her life, but none had been more startling than Ryan’s revelation that he was a believer. And he appeared to have a deeper understanding of what forgiveness was all about than she did. That thought made her cringe with shame. Ryan had laid his heart out in trying to make amends for past mistakes, and now it was her turn.

  She looked back at him and could see the muscle in his jaw flexing as if he dreaded hearing what her reply would be. “Ryan, I’m so happy for you. And I’m also sorry for the way I’ve acted toward you for the past few years. Please forgive me. I haven’t been fair to you, and I sure haven’t done what God would have me do. I hope we can start with a clean slate and be friends. I’ve missed you.”

  He turned his head and stared at her for a moment before he swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes held a sad look. “I’ve missed you, too, Jessica. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you with me on this hunt for my brother.”

  “And it means a lot to me that you would want me here.” She couldn’t stop the smile she gave him.

  But not a moment later, her expression sobered as she thought about their destination. “What is the plan once we get to the prison?”

  He shifted in his seat and directed his attention back to the highway in front of them. But Jessica thought there was a new lift to his shoulders, and the tenseness she’d detected in his body was gone. “Since Tommie Oakes is the one doing time in the state prison for killing Cal and Susan Harvey, I thought we needed to talk to him. Maybe he has some information about Lee Tucker and why his DNA would have been found at the crime scene.”

  “Was it difficult to get us approved for a visit?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Not really. I called the visitation staff yesterday afternoon and explained our link to the conviction of Oakes, and they approved it. We won’t have a private meeting with him, but we can talk with him in the visitation gallery along with other inmates who have visitors. Even though we’ve been put on the approved list of visitors for today, we have to check in and go through security just like everyone else entering the facility.”

  “I’ve been to several other prisons before, looking for leads to a fugitive, but never this one. What do we have to do?”

  “First off, I assume you have your gun, because I’m wearing mine. They know we’re licensed to carry, but we can’t take them inside. So we have to store them securely in the car before we go inside. Then we report to the checkpoint area. There we’ll be searched with a metal detector and then we’ll show the guards our official IDs. They should have the written authorization for us from the warden. After we’ve completed all that, they’ll give us an identification tag, stamp our hands with ultraviolet ink and admit us to the visitation gallery.”

  Jessica nodded. “That sounds about like what I expected. So, how much longer do you think it will be before we get there?”

  “Maybe forty-five minutes.”

  She reached for the volume dial of the radio. “Then how about some music on our way into Music City?”

  A country-music station blared out as she adjusted the sound, and she settled back to listen. Before the next song could play, however, a deep, masculine voice filled the car as a campaign ad for Senator Mitchum began to play.

  Jessica and Ryan exchanged glances as the narrator listed all the accomplishments Senator Mitchum had made during his years in the Senate. His war on drugs, his efforts for the military and veterans in his role on the Armed Services Committee and his dedication to the people of the state where he’d lived all his life. The ad finished with a caution to voters not to be swayed by the heroic actions of his opponent, who had no experience in elected office, but to support the man who had led the fight for Tennessee citizens and their jobs for years.

  Ryan glanced at Jessica when the campaign spot ended and the music began to play again. “Did that convince you to vote for Senator Mitchum?”

  She shook her head. “Still undecided. But with the election not far away, I’m going to have to decide soon. In the meantime, I think I’ll take a short nap the rest of the way to the prison.”

  With a yawn, she settled back in her seat and closed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well last night after the drive-by shooting, and she felt tired. As she thought about all that Ryan had said and mulled over every word in her mind, she began to grow drowsy. The next thing she knew, Ryan was shaking her shoulder.

  “Jessica, wake up. We’re here.”

  Startled, she sat up and peered out the window. They were parked in a lot outside the facility that housed some of the most hardened criminals in the state. Although the prison was new and state-of-the-art, she still wouldn’t have felt comfortable entering alone. But she didn’t have to. Ryan was with her, and she felt good about that.

  She reached up and pulled down the sun visor with the lit mirror on the back. “Let me check my makeup before we go in.”

  Ryan burst out laughing. “Jessica, we’re not here to impress anybody. All we want is information.” She arched an eyebrow at him, and he looped his arm across the steering wheel and grinned broadly. “You could be on the pursuit of the FBI’s number one most wanted, and you’d have to make sure your makeup was okay. I’m glad to see you haven’t changed.”

  She swatted
his arm and couldn’t help but grin at his teasing. “A girl likes to look her best no matter what she’s facing. I’m sorry if you disapprove.”

  He shook his head and his eyes softened. “I don’t disapprove. From where I sit, you look perfect no matter what. But then, I always thought that about you.”

  Her ears burned, and she directed her gaze to the mirror. His words had set her heart racing, and she didn’t dare let him see the effect he’d had on her. After a moment, she flipped the sun visor to its regular position and reached for the door handle.

  “Now all I have to do is lock my gun in the trunk, and you won’t be able to tell me from anybody else visiting today.”

  She’d just finished speaking when a taxi pulled to a stop at the entrance. A young woman climbed from the backseat of the cab. She held a baby in one arm and pulled a little boy who looked to be about four or five years old with the other hand. She propped the baby against her hip so that its head rested on her shoulder and grabbed for the boy, who was struggling to pull free.

  “Joey,” she yelled, “hold my hand!”

  The child pulled against her. “I want to go see Daddy,” the child screamed.

  The mother jerked him toward her with such force that he plowed into her body. She grabbed his chin and held him still while she glowered down at him. “I’ll take you to see your daddy. And if you don’t behave, I’ll tell one of the guards to lock you up in a cell, too. With the way you act, it won’t be too many years before you’ll be right here with him.”

  With that, she strode toward the entrance, the baby’s head bouncing against her shoulder and the crying boy being dragged behind her.

  Jessica watched them go and fought the tears that filled her eyes. When she turned to Ryan, she could tell he’d been as upset by the scene as she was. She bit down on her lip. “That was very sad to see.”

  He turned to her, and she was struck by the look of despair in his eyes. “It was. Several of the boys I mentor at church have fathers in prison, and I know what they’re going through. That child is on the same path as they are. I feel so helpless that I can’t do more for them.”

  “You’re there for them, Ryan. That’s the important thing, and I’m sure they know that.”

  “I hope so.” He took a deep breath. “Now, let’s get our guns stored so we can go in.”

  They walked to the back of the car, and Ryan raised the trunk lid. Minutes later, the guns were secured in a lockbox, and they were walking toward the entrance. Other people had arrived and milled forward to enter.

  Jessica looked around at what appeared to be family members, young women with children, teenagers with graying grandparents, a priest and a few other men who carried Bibles. All bound for the same destination, a visit with an inmate.

  Were any of them here on a mission the way she and Ryan were today? And could Tommie Oakes shed any light on why Lee Tucker’s DNA was found at Cal and Susan Harvey’s murder scene?

  All she could do was pray that he might have some useful information that would lead them to the answer to Jamie’s connection to the case and his present whereabouts. And from the look on Ryan’s face, that was exactly what he was praying also.

  * * *

  Ryan sat patiently beside Jessica where the guard had positioned them in the visitation gallery and watched the area fill up. The guard had tried to place them in a somewhat private area of the room, but he had cautioned them that he might have to change their seating if the room became too crowded with other arriving guests. So far it looked as if they would be all right, but there were a lot of groups waiting for the arrival of their inmate, just as he and Jessica were for Tommie Oakes.

  Jessica hadn’t said anything since entering the gallery. She had sat quietly and stared at the gathering crowd. He leaned over and whispered to her, “Are you all right?”

  She turned a dazzling smile on him and tilted her head to one side. “Don’t worry, Spencer. I’m back in cop mode. I don’t plan a repeat of yesterday’s little fiasco.”

  “It wasn’t a fiasco,” he replied. “It could have happened to anybody.”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t. It happened to me, a bounty hunter with the Knight Agency. If word gets around about my weak moment, it might cost us some business.”

  He raised his hand and smiled. “I promise to never breathe a word about it. As I told you, your secret is safe with me.”

  She laughed and started to reply but stopped when the door opened and Tommie Oakes walked into the room. “He’s here,” she whispered.

  Ryan turned his head to look in the direction she was staring and saw Tommie Oakes for the first time since his trial four years before. He still looked the same. His dark skin was marked with tattoos—some gang symbols and some that probably had other meanings to him—and he still wore his hair long with plaits hanging down around his head. He was dressed in the official blue uniform of the Tennessee Department of Corrections, according to guidelines—the shirt not opened past the second button from the collar of the tucked-in shirt, no sweatshirt underneath and no jewelry.

  Ryan remembered seeing Oakes brought in when he was first arrested and the gold chains and rings he’d had on then. Those, along with his gang bandana, were long gone.

  As Tommie looked over the crowd, his gaze came to a stop on Ryan, and Tommie’s mouth curled into a sneer. He hesitated for a moment before the guard urged him forward. He took a reluctant step and then another until he stood facing Ryan.

  Ryan started to reach out to shake his hand and then thought better of it. They’d been warned there was to be no touching between inmates and visitors. He took a deep breath. “Hello, Tommie. Remember me? I’m Detective Ryan Spencer. I worked your case when you were sent here, and this is my friend Jessica Knight.”

  He glared at Ryan a moment before he glanced at Jessica. “You a cop, too?”

  “No,” she said. “I used to be, but I’m a bounty hunter now. And I’m looking for a fugitive I thought you might have some information about.”

  Tommie snorted in disgust. “I don’t know nothin’ but what goes on in my cell block. And far as I know, we ain’t had nobody bust out of there.”

  She smiled and pointed to the seat across from her. “I know that. But you may know this person. He seems to have a link to you. Won’t you sit down and let us talk to you?”

  He glanced from her to Ryan and then around the room before he sighed and sat down. “Might as well. Don’t look like my old lady’s gonna show today for visitation. Course, she don’t come much anymore. From what I hear, she done found another guy to take my place. That’s what happens when you find yourself behind bars.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Tommie,” Ryan said. “Or would you rather we call you Cruiser? I know that was what you went by before you came in here.”

  “That was what my brothers called me, but not many of them around here. So you can call me Tommie. That’s my name. Now tell me what you two doing here and what you think I might help you with.”

  Ryan cleared his throat and sat up straight. “Have you ever heard of a man named Lee Tucker?”

  Tommie’s mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wide. “What you want to know about him?”

  “Only if you know him or not.”

  Tommie shook his head slowly. “I ain’t never heard of him until last visiting day—last Saturday it was.”

  Ryan frowned. “How did you hear about him then?”

  “This young kid visited me and asked me if I had ever heard of a man named Lee Tucker. I told him no and asked him why. He said might be that this Tucker guy had something to do with killin’ those two reporters I done got sentenced to life for. I asked him what made him think that, and he just kinda smiled to himself and said he had some kind of lead that might help me prove I didn’t kill them folks.”

  Ryan’s hands sta
rted to shake, and he clutched them together in front of him. “Who was this kid?”

  Tommie shrugged. “Some college kid from Memphis. Said he worked on a school newspaper. I laughed at him and asked him what made him think that. He said he didn’t want to tell me more right then, but he’d be in touch and if I believed in prayer, I’d better start praying he could find this guy.”

  Although Ryan knew before he asked, he had to know for sure. “Do you remember what this kid’s name was?”

  “Yeah. Jamie something. It started with an S, I think.” He frowned and appeared to be concentrating when suddenly his eyes grew wide, and he gasped. “Spencer! That’s what he said. Jamie Spencer. He related to you?”

  Ryan almost bent double from the pain that felt as if he’d just been punched in the stomach. “Yeah. He’s my brother.”

  “Your brother? Then what’s all this stuff he talkin’ about? Who this Lee Tucker, and what’s he got to do with me?”

  Ryan shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. His name has come up in another investigation, and it looks like there may be some evidence to link him to the Harvey killings. Are you sure you don’t know him?”

  Tommie thought for another moment before he answered. “I ain’t never heard that name, but I may know somebody can help you. Go down on Beale Street in Memphis and ask around about Kenny Macey. If this Tucker fellow is active in Memphis, Kenny will have heard of him. He keeps his ear to the ground.”

  “I’ll do that. Where will I find this Macey?”

  “Don’t know. You just gotta look for him. You’ll know him when you see him ’cause of his eyeglass.”

  Ryan frowned. “There’s something different about his glasses?”

  “Naw, man. It’s his glass. Just look for him. He’ll be dressed real crazy-like.”

  “Okay, but there are a lot of crazy characters down on Beale Street.”

  “You got that right.” Tommie frowned and tilted his head to one side. “Is your brother one of ʼem? I ain’t never heard of him until he showed up here. Got me all excited thinking he might know something that could get me out of here. But you don’t seem to think so.”

 

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