If I'm Found

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If I'm Found Page 18

by Terri Blackstock


  41

  DYLAN

  Reporters cluster on the front steps of the Shreveport Police Department when I arrive. I move through them, ignored, head up to the third floor, and ask someone where Keegan is. They point me to the interrogation room down the hall. My temples hurting from grinding my teeth, I stride down to that door and look in the window. I see Hannah in there with Keegan and Rollins. She’s crying and frantic.

  I knock on the door.

  Rollins opens it and leans out.

  “I want to sit in,” I say quietly.

  “Naw, you can’t do that.”

  “Let me talk to Detective Keegan.”

  He rolls his eyes and shuts the door. I watch through the two-way glass as he whispers to Keegan. I see the smarmy smirk on Keegan’s face as he gets up and opens the door. “This is not your case, Dylan,” he says. “I don’t know why you keep making me remind you that you’re contracted help tasked with one job. Bringing back the killer.”

  “That’s her sister,” I say. “I want to know what you have on her. Did she contact her? Did you intercept communications between them?”

  “Go find something else to do,” Keegan says. “I’m busy.” He goes back in and closes the door.

  I swing my fist, almost hitting the wall but stopping short of it. I want to yell so loud that my voice shakes the building, but I stop myself. I’m covered with sweat and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

  Did I somehow cause this? Did I get Hannah arrested? Did I set Casey up to do something that turned out to be stupid?

  What is all this about?

  I go to Chief Gates’s office. His secretary stops me. “He’s in a meeting. He can’t see you now.”

  “Please. It’s important that I sit in on the interrogation with Casey Cox’s sister. I need to know if Casey has contacted Hannah. I need to know why they’ve arrested her.”

  “I can’t interrupt him,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

  I think of kicking down his door, demanding that he help me, but I know that’s not the way to convince him I’m a professional. Instead, I go out into the hallway and find Jim Pace’s number. I call him and it rings three times. Finally, he picks up.

  “Dylan? What’s going on? I saw the news report.”

  “They’ve brought Casey’s sister in. I can’t get any information. Jim, I need you to call the chief and ask him to let me sit in on their interrogation.”

  “Have you asked?”

  “Yes, and the detectives don’t play well with others. I need to be there, Jim.” I know I need an ace in the hole to convince him, so I pull one out. “Look, they’ve clearly uncovered something that could lead us to Casey. She’s very close to her sister. I need to know what it is so I can find her.”

  Jim hesitates for a moment, then says, “Has the chief told you no?”

  “Not yet. He’s in a meeting. I can’t get in there to see him. You have his cell phone number, don’t you? Can’t you call him?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Just hang on. I’ll get back to you. Where will you be?”

  “Right here, in the hallway in front of his office,” I say.

  “Okay. Let me see if I can get him.”

  I wait, pacing up and down the hall, doing the breathing exercises my shrink gave me, trying to make my heart rate slow. I feel that illogical sense of panic like I did after the explosion—as I groped around trying to save my friends. It’s not the same, I know, but I’m sweating and feel like I’m on high alert, waiting for the next blast to go off, waiting for gunfire, mortar fire, waiting for something . . .

  When my phone chimes, I jump. It’s Jim, but as he calls, I hear footsteps in the chief’s office, and he leans out into the hall. “Dylan, Jim said you were here. Go on up. I’ve called Keegan and told him to let you in.”

  I let out a breath. “Thank you. I really need to be there.”

  “I agree. Sorry for the confusion.”

  My phone is still ringing, so I swipe it on. “Jim, you did it. He’s letting me sit in. I’m heading up there now.”

  “Let me know what you find out,” Jim says. “Call me as soon as you can.”

  “Will do.”

  I head back up the stairs and hurry down the hallway. When I knock on the door, it flies open. Keegan stares at me, his jaw set. He steps out into the hall and closes the door behind him. “Just because you have an in with the chief doesn’t mean you belong here. We do the questioning. You don’t say a word.”

  “All right.”

  “I don’t know why you couldn’t just watch through the glass, but the chief says let you in, so come on in.” He sounds like a circus master as he says those last three words.

  I follow him into the room, and see Hannah’s face change. Is that hope? I fear she’s going to cry out for me to help her, but surely she’s wise enough not to. I sit down, arms crossed, as they resume their questioning. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that they don’t have anything on her. They’re really just filling time.

  This was all to lure Casey out of hiding.

  42

  CASEY

  As I cross into the Shreveport city limits, I check myself in the mirror, and I’m looking at a stranger. My strawberry-blonde wig is short and tapered around my ears like something out of the fifties, and dark sunglasses hide my eyes. I’ve drawn my lips bigger than my own, with a more puckered look. All the way here from Dallas I’ve had one thought in mind—saving my sister. But now that I’m here I’m not sure how I’ll do that.

  She can’t afford a lawyer without mortgaging her house since she and her husband barely make ends meet. She used her money that Dad left to invest in her home. I suppose she could get a second mortgage, but that’s out of my control. I think of driving by her house and talking to Jeff, but there are probably still media on the front lawn.

  One thought keeps hammering me. I have to turn myself in to get the heat off Hannah.

  I can drive straight to the police department—disguised—and walk through the media and up to the office where my dad used to work, where Keegan works now. The thought nauseates me, and I pull over into a Walmart parking lot. For a moment, I think I’m going to throw up, but then the feeling passes.

  No, presenting myself to Keegan is suicide. I’d be dead before I ever have an arraignment. I don’t know how he would do it given the public attention to the case, but he’d find a way. He’d probably hang me in my cell and tell them that he found me that way.

  Maybe I need to leave what’s left of my cash somewhere and get a message to Jeff that it’s for Hannah’s defense, then leave town again.

  I get out of my car and pull my bag out of the backseat, lock it in my trunk. My cash is in there. If I can just hide my keys somewhere and get word to Jeff, he can retrieve the money.

  I realize that a lot of things have to fall into place for any of this to work, and that if I turn myself in, I may be about to hand over control to the most evil man I’ve ever known. The thought scares me to death. I shut the trunk as a family of five trail toward me, their shopping cart piled high. They get into the van next to my car.

  I sit there a moment, trying to decide how to get the keys and cash into Jeff’s hands for Hannah. If I leave my car here for him, how will I get to the police station?

  The truth is, I’m stalling. I don’t want to do it.

  My brave girl. Dad’s voice plays through my mind like an old familiar tune. I’m not feeling all that brave, but I have to go through the motions. Isn’t it worth my life to make sure Emma still has her mother?

  I don’t let another thought hang me up. I start my car and back out, then head to the police department. I’ll just leave my car in their parking lot and do this. The money isn’t the main issue. Getting Hannah released is, and if they have me, they’ll probably let Hannah go.

  I turn onto the road where Dad’s old workplace is, and I slow as I pass the media glutting the sidewalk, with cameras and boom mikes, their vans double-parked along the c
urb.

  No one looks in my direction. Wouldn’t they be shocked to know that the girl they’ve all been looking for is right under their noses?

  I turn into the parking lot, clinging to my dad’s words. My brave girl.

  I find a parking place near the back of the lot, on the side facing the hardware store next door. I pull in and sit there a moment. It’s suddenly hard to breathe, and my heartbeat is hurting my chest. I look toward the front walk and try to plot my path. Should I walk right up to the media and tell them who I am, or just go into the building?

  Suddenly the passenger door opens and a man slips into my car. I yelp in surprise.

  It’s Dylan Roberts.

  “I thought it was you,” he says.

  I grab my door handle and start to open it, but he stops me.

  “Don’t. Not yet.”

  “Don’t what?” I ask him. “Don’t turn myself in? Are you seriously telling me that? Have you forgotten what you were hired to do?”

  “It’s not time yet,” he says, looking out the back window. “I got your emails. I’ve been compiling all the evidence. I have statements by some of your dad’s coworkers, evidence about things Keegan and his cohorts did back then. Money laundering trails, bank accounts. Enough to convict him of extortion, but not murder. I need more time.”

  “You can have all the credit for finding me. Just take me in right now. Turn me over to Keegan. Then you’ll get to be the big hero and you’ll get your job.”

  “I’m not looking for a job,” he says. “I’m looking for justice. If you go in there, you know you’ll wind up dead. Keegan can’t let you talk. It’s too dangerous for him.”

  “I know that,” I say, bursting into tears. I touch my tears and see the brown liquid, and I’m embarrassed that my makeup’s running. “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “Then work with me,” he says. “Help me help you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “Why would you risk yourself this way?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Is it? My sister is in there. They arrested her for talking to me. I got her into this. I have to get her out. She has a child.”

  “They’ll have to let her go anyway,” he says. “I’ve been in the interrogations with her. They don’t have anything on her, and when I realized they were doing all this just to draw you out, I left the interview room and have been sitting out here waiting for you. I knew you’d come. She did call for a lawyer, and they’re waiting for him to show up.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “Yes, and he’s a good one. I don’t know how Keegan got the arrest warrant when he doesn’t seem to have anything solid. All he’s doing is going over and over the information about the day you left. Hannah’s doing great. She’s been very consistent.”

  “So she’s talking before her attorney gets there?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. She hasn’t said anything that implicates her.”

  “That’s because she’s telling the truth. She didn’t know anything about Brent’s death, and she didn’t help me leave. She learned about it when the police told her.” I look at him, my hands on the steering wheel. “I have to get her out of there. They could hurt her, just to hurt me. She doesn’t belong in jail.”

  “And you do? You didn’t kill Brent Pace.”

  “But I have broken laws. You know I have. It’s me who’s supposed to be in there, not her.”

  “Casey, you know that Keegan can hurt Hannah even if she’s out. The only way to stop him is to nail him on his corruption. I’m putting myself on the line here right now.” He glances out the back window. “There are cameras on the eaves of the building. But you don’t look like yourself, and they don’t know I’ve flipped, so for all they know, if anyone’s watching, you could be my girlfriend. I want you to come away with me right now. Don’t turn yourself in yet. That can be done later if you still want to, when it’s safe. This is the rest of your life we’re talking about, so let’s do this right.”

  I look out the window, and my eyes drift to the corners of the building. I do see security cameras, but they’re all fixed, steady, not moving toward us. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want to get out of this car and watch you drive away. I want you to meet me tonight after dark.”

  “After dark? By then Hannah will be in lockdown . . . or worse.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dylan says. “Once her lawyer gets here and realizes they don’t have anything to hold her on, he’ll get her out of here today.”

  “Can you guarantee that?”

  “No, I can’t. But I have a strong suspicion that’s what’ll happen. Keegan didn’t arrest her because he had probable cause. He arrested her because he saw you in Dallas. You can’t let him win.”

  “So why isn’t he watching for me? If he thinks he’s drawing me out—”

  “He has people watching I-20 just outside of Shreveport. Your disguise got you past them.”

  “Then they’ll see me when I leave town.”

  “They’re only watching traffic coming into Shreveport, not going out. I’m trying to get the names of the guys he put out on I-20 to watch for you, because I think they must be part of the corruption. He wouldn’t have wanted just any officers to apprehend you, for fear you’d tell them everything.”

  I shiver at the thought that I was almost caught in their net. “I was going to the press first, on the steps outside the department.”

  “You wouldn’t have gotten two sentences out of your mouth before they arrested you. We’re not ready yet. I need more hard evidence before we can make this stick. I’m counting four murders now—your dad, Sara Meadows, another officer, and Brent. I’m sure there will be more if we don’t nail him.”

  I think about it for a minute and realize he’s right.

  “Casey, you don’t have much more time. Someone’s gonna come out and see us talking.”

  “All right,” I say. “Where do you want to meet?”

  He hands me a phone, clicks to the Contacts, and types in a phone number. “This is a burner phone, and I’ve put in the number to my second phone. I’ll hang out here until they let Hannah go, under the guise that I’m collecting information that will lead me to you. I think Hannah will feel a little more comfortable knowing I’m here. As soon as she’s free, I’ll text you to see where you are.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll take a different route back west, but I’ll be checking. If they keep her, I’m coming back.”

  “I know.” He reaches for a tissue from a box on my floorboard and hands it to me. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I will be if she is.”

  “She will be.” His words sound like a promise, but I don’t believe promises. “Tell me one thing,” he says. “What happened to your chin? And your hands? Did that happen when Keegan almost ran you over?”

  I look down at my hands and remember the scrapes from my run-in with the Trendalls. “No, not that. It’s a long story. Nothing to do with this, really.”

  “If you say so.” He opens the door and slips out, looks both ways. I glance at the cameras. I watch him walk to his car, the same one that was on the street when he helped me escape from Willie Dotson’s house in Shady Grove. I pull out of the parking lot before he starts his car, and I drive off. I watch in my rearview mirror as he turns the other direction. I pray that I’m not making a terrible mistake.

  43

  DYLAN

  When Casey is out of sight, I go back inside the department. I want to make sure that things are okay with Hannah before I make my next move. I find her with her attorney and a bail bondsman, and I’m told she’s being released. The press will descend on her like vultures the moment she steps out the door.

  I hope she’s prepared for that feeding frenzy, and that she won’t say anything. I go upstairs to the detective division, hoping to feel Keegan out about the direction of the investigation. When I get to the top of the stairs, I hear him talkin
g on his way out the door.

  “I won’t be back for a few days. Anything comes up, call Rollins or me. Especially with the Cox case. And keep that tail on Hannah.” He rounds the corner, sees me, and stops for a moment, his eyes burning into me as if he hates my guts and would like to break me in half.

  “Where you going?” I ask.

  “Like I’d tell you,” he says.

  I glance behind him at Rollins, who’s following him out. “We’ll be available by phone,” Keegan says. As they shoot past me, I have a bad feeling in my gut that they’re about to go to the airport and hop back over to Dallas.

  I text Casey from the new burner phone I’ve just activated.

  Hannah released. Keegan and Rollins headed to Dallas, I think. Don’t go there.

  She types back, Should I go south or north?

  South, I say. Try Palestine TX.

  She texts me back: Ok.

  I write back: Text me when u find a place & I’ll stay there too. On my way to meet u.

  I hope rerouting her throws them off.

  I run by my apartment, grab a few things, and head out. For the next three hours, driving to where Casey should be, I watch every westbound plane that passes overhead, wondering if it’s Keegan and Rollins.

  I think she’ll be safe if she doesn’t go to Dallas. Hopefully, tonight we’ll be able to get to the end of this.

  44

  CASEY

  I get back on I-20 when I’m far enough away from Shreveport, then I stop at an exit along the way to get a burger. I sit in the Wendy’s parking lot to eat and use their Wi-Fi signal to get on the Internet. I want to check the news and see what I can find about Hannah being released.

  There are clips of her walking through the media with her attorney holding them back. I’m relieved, but still livid that my sister has had to go through that at all.

 

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