The FBI Thrillers Collection

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The FBI Thrillers Collection Page 69

by Catherine Coulter


  The four of them stood by Agent Savich’s bed, watching him sleep. Sam lightly patted his shoulder, and looked up to his father. “Uncle Dillon doesn’t look so good, Papa. Why’s he on his stomach?”

  “You remember, he got cut on his back, that’s why. He’ll be just fine, don’t worry, Sam.”

  “I think he’s handsome,” Keely said. “Do you think you’d like him, Mama?”

  “It’s too late for us, pumpkin,” Katie told her daughter, “he waited as long as he could, and then he met Sherlock and she proposed to him. She was more in need than we were. What could he do?”

  Miles wanted to laugh, but he was just too tired to do more than blink.

  By the time Katie walked out of Dillon’s hospital room, two Advil in her system, Keely’s head rested on her shoulder, and she was sound asleep. Ten minutes later, Katie eased down into the front seat of Miles’s rented Ford and settled Keely on her lap. Miles fastened the seat belt. Then he paused, and both of them realized they didn’t want Sam to be alone in the backseat.

  It would be a tight fit, but they could do it. Miles said, “Sam, do you think you can hold real still?”

  “Sure, Papa,” Sam said, so tired his voice slurred like a drunk’s.

  “Okay, I want you to sit on my lap, but since I’m driving, you can’t move a whisker.”

  Katie had given people tickets for such stupidity, but she didn’t say a word. It would work.

  Once Miles had the seat belt around both of them, Sam nearly touching the steering wheel even though Miles had pushed the front seat all the way back, Katie said, “Maybe you’d best stay at Mother’s Very Best tonight, Miles. The other Feds are staying there.”

  He was silent for a long moment as he started the car.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you at my house. It’s something else entirely.”

  12

  She paused, saw that both children were asleep, then said, her voice low, “Something’s happened, Miles.”

  His hands were fisted around the steering wheel. “Tell me.”

  “It seems that Fatso/Clancy got out of the van before it blew. They haven’t found him yet. The hunt will begin in earnest early tomorrow morning, at first light. If he’s still in the forest, he might be dead of his wounds or pneumonia by morning. But I don’t think we’ll get that lucky.”

  His right hand thumped the steering wheel. Sam jerked, but didn’t awaken. “So there’s still danger.”

  “Well, yes. I felt much better thinking he was dead and accounted for, given what’s happened. I’m hoping that he’ll run as far and as fast as he can. At least when we catch him, we’ll have a chance to get out of him why he and Beau took Sam.”

  “That would make me feel a whole lot better. There wasn’t a ransom note. Everyone was thinking a pedophile had taken him. Now? I don’t have a clue.” He paused, then added, “I guess you don’t think he’s dead.”

  There was such hopefulness in his voice, but she didn’t lie. “No, I don’t. Life is never that neat and tidy. When you mix criminals in, things really get mucked up.”

  “So that’s why you want me to stay at this B and B in town.”

  “It might be for the best.”

  “Wouldn’t we be just as safe with you and your deputies, Sheriff?”

  “Two deputies will be in front of the house all night and there will be lots of people there tomorrow. Either way, you should be fine, but it’s up to you, Miles.”

  “If you’ll have us, Sam and I would like to stay with you. He knows your house, Sheriff, he’s comfortable with Keely and with you. I don’t want to take him to another strange place unless I’m forced to.”

  “No, you don’t have to. But please remember, Clancy and Beau came back to my house to get Sam again. I’m not really sure Clancy is going to hightail it out of here.”

  “Ah, I don’t think you know this, Katie, but I was in law enforcement myself until five years ago, in the FBI. Savich and I worked together, as a matter of fact, and that’s how we became friends. I can handle myself and a gun, if the need arises.”

  She shook her head at him. “I knew there was something about you, something that made me think you’d been in the military, or something.”

  “Yeah, I can just imagine how bad-ass dangerous I looked holding two children in my arms.”

  It took them a good twenty minutes to get there, never going faster than twenty miles an hour. The rain had slowed to a drizzle but a low-lying gray fog blanketed the ground. The air was bone-numbing cold, pregnant with more rain.

  The children continued to sleep all the way back to Katie’s house, a neat two-story with a wide porch built in the forties. It was just outside Jessborough proper, along a road lined with tulip poplars, set back on five acres that were mostly covered with hardwood trees—beech, red maple, white ash, sassafras.

  Miles said, “Do you know, I can’t see the mountains, but I know they’re there, nearly in your backyard.”

  “Just wait until morning. Fall is the most glamorous time of the year. So many different trees, so many bright colors, each one distinctive. Come back, say, the end of March and it isn’t so pretty.”

  Miles pulled the Ford in behind the deputies. Katie waved to them, then handed a sleeping Keely to Miles to put on his other shoulder. She watched him pause a moment and stare at the still smoldering van and the boarded-up front window. Then he took the children into the house.

  Katie was pleased the car was parked right out in front, as conspicuous as could be. No way Clancy could miss them. They also had a huge thermos of black coffee on the front seat between them, enough, they assured her, to last them until doomsday, or later.

  It was nearly 2 a.m. when Katie handed Miles a cup of hot chocolate and pointed to a big easy chair.

  “Why don’t you drink this. I find hot chocolate always slows me down even if my brain is revving. I’ll bet it’ll send you right off to sleep.”

  “Your headache under control?”

  “Oh yes. But how did you know?”

  He smiled at her. “I just knew.”

  She couldn’t help herself and smiled back. “It’s been an eventful day,” she said and both of them sipped the hot chocolate.

  She closed her eyes in bliss as it warmed her belly.

  “An understatement. Both kids were boneless. I just poured them into their beds. It’s always amazed me how a kid can do that.”

  Katie smiled. “Thank you for taking care of Keely. My sweats are warm even if they don’t fit Sam very well. I haven’t had time to wash his clothes. We can do that first thing in the morning. Sam’s a brave kid, Miles.”

  “Yeah, he is. Obviously it’s you who deserves thanks for saving my son’s life. I owe you, Katie, I owe you forever.”

  “You’re welcome. Remember, Sam saved himself. It was luck that I was driving really slow and Keely saw him.”

  Miles said, “When I put Keely to bed while you were drying my clothes, she still had that blanket Hilda gave her at the hospital. She didn’t want to give it up.”

  “She didn’t mention Oscar? That’s her rabbit. They’ve been inseparable since she was six months old.”

  “She sleeps with her rabbit?”

  “Oh, sure. Does Sam have a favorite animal he sleeps with?”

  “Yes,” Miles said. “A big stuffed frog named Ollie. It’s really ratty, but Sam refuses to let it go.”

  “Wait just a second.” Katie left the living room only to return a few seconds later, a big green frog under her arm. “Would you look at this sitting in her closet—her grandmother, my mother, gave it to her for Christmas last year. Maybe Sam would let it be a stand-in for Ollie.”

  He smiled, the first one Katie had seen. “You have a name for the critter?”

  “Oh yeah, she’s Marie.”

  “Sam might not want a girl.”

  “Trust me. Green isn’t girly. And you’ll make it Martin.”

  She watched him close his eyes again, saw the tension flooding
back over him, and waited. After a minute or so, he said, “Best I can tell, Sam was taken out of his own bed close to dawn, early Friday morning. It’s been like an unending nightmare.” He swallowed convulsively. Katie just let him talk.

  “I went to get him up for school, and he wasn’t in his bed. I thought he was in the bathroom and I went yelling for him to hurry up. It took at least five minutes before I realized he was gone, that someone had taken him. My first thought was a sexual predator, and believe me, the FBI checked that out immediately. Then we all wondered if it was some sort of revenge—after all, I’d been in the FBI myself and captured some bad guys. Since I own a good-sized company, it could have been ransom. They spoke to my sister-in-law, to some of my employees, even a couple of friends. It all takes time, so they’d really just gotten started. But no matter what the agents said, no matter what they did, all I could think about was some child molester had gotten him.”

  His voice broke. He opened his eyes. “I wanted to hope, to believe that the FBI would get him back, but there have been so many kidnappings, and the kids either disappear forever or they’re found dead. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  “I’ll bet. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if it were Keely.” She shook her head. “Did Sam tell you that his mama got him moving when Beau and Clancy had him at the cabin?”

  “No, he hasn’t had time to tell me everything yet.”

  “I hope your wife is all right.”

  “His mother has been dead for two years now, a car accident.”

  “Oh, I’m so very sorry; Sam never told me.”

  He smiled wearily. “It’s all right. He doesn’t talk about it yet. His mom speaks to him every so often; funny thing is, sometimes she talks to me, too. Of course it’s just in my head, when I’m stressed out or something, and I have a problem that’s all muddled in my mind, but if she spoke to Sam to help him get away, good for her.” He shrugged. “Maybe, somehow, he needed her to help him help himself. And so he did. Can you tell me what happened, Sheriff?”

  “Sure. Let me tell you about Sam’s great escape.” She spoke for maybe two minutes, then realized her audience had nodded off. She leaned down and lightly shook his shoulder. He came awake instantly, a flash of fear, then relief that Sam was okay.

  “It’s time for bed, Miles. I don’t think my sweats would work for you as well as they do for Sam. We can go shopping tomorrow for both of you. There’s a bathroom right beside Sam’s room. When my dad was alive he used to visit, so you’ll find guy stuff in there.”

  “Thank you, Katie.” She watched him walk from the living room. He was a big man, fit and runner-lean, dark-haired and dark-eyed, looking rather silly with a green frog tucked under his right arm. He looked like exhaustion walking. And the oddest thing was, she felt like she’d known him for a good long time, and it felt good.

  After a long hot shower, Katie checked Keely’s room. Her daughter was smiling in her sleep, Oscar lying tightly squeezed to her chest, one floppy ear showing above the blanket Hilda had given her.

  Katie climbed into bed with one more thing to do before she let her brain go. She opened her laptop and went to the NCIC, the National Crime Information Center, the FBI’s national criminal database that could be accessed by local law enforcement. The late Beauregard Jones was a career hood who hailed from Denton, Texas, a three-time loser, with warrants that could have put him in jail for the rest of his miserable life, if it weren’t over already. She couldn’t find anything about kidnapping or about any family in or near Tennessee.

  She had no clue what Clancy’s last name was or how he’d gotten connected to Beau. She called Ossining, Beau’s place of residence until a couple of years ago. She left a message for the warden to call her as soon as possible. Clancy was the key, she just knew it.

  She shut down her laptop, unplugged the modem, and pulled the covers to her neck.

  She dreamed that Keely was calling to her, but when Katie got close to her daughter’s voice, all she saw was a long line of vans. She watched, horrified, as each of them blew up, one after the other. Then she saw Clancy stuffing Keely into a van that hadn’t blown up yet. She woke up, frightened and wheezing, her nightshirt sweated through.

  She couldn’t help herself. She checked on Keely, then on Sam and Miles. Sam was on his side, his face on his father’s shoulder, his father’s arm cuddling him close. Martin the frog was sprawled on top of Miles, Sam’s arm around him.

  She was still shaking from that wretched dream. Beau was dead. As for Clancy, she’d get him and throw his ass in jail.

  13

  The hospital was quiet at ten o’clock on Sunday morning. Katie, Miles, and the children trooped into Dillon Savich’s semi-private room that had only Savich in it.

  Leaning over him was a small woman in black slacks, black leather half-boots, and a black denim jacket over a red sweater. She had curly red hair that wasn’t really a red red, or an auburn, just a marvelous mix, and a very nice laugh. She looked up when she heard them coming.

  Her eyes lit up. “Hey, Sam, Dillon tells me you’re a hero.”

  Sam shouted as he ran to her, “I did it, Aunt Sherlock, I climbed out that window myself, and it was so skinny that my shoulders didn’t want to fit through, but I finally wiggled free and my butt fell right out. I landed on my face in the mud. That was yucky but I ran and ran and then Katie was there—and you know that she shot those bad men?”

  He finally took a breath. Sherlock grabbed him up in her arms and danced around the room with him. She kissed him all over his face as she danced.

  Sam asked her when she paused to take a breath, “Where’s Sean?”

  “He’s with his grandmother. I’d bet that right now he’s sitting in church.”

  “That could be bad,” Sam said to Katie. “Sean doesn’t like to sit still.”

  “You’re right about that,” Sherlock said, and kissed him one final time. “We bribe him with graham crackers.”

  Sam immediately turned to Savich. “You’re sitting up, Uncle Dillon. Are you better?”

  “I’m just fine, Sam, just a bit stiff.” Savich hugged Sam against him, doing his best not to wince when the boy’s hands brushed against the bandage over his back. “Sherlock’s going to spring me today, she promised. Did you and your dad sleep at the sheriff’s house last night?”

  “Yeah, Papa slept with me. I got hot, but he didn’t want to let go of me.”

  “I wouldn’t let go of you either,” Sherlock said. “Okay, what else do you have to tell me, Sam?”

  “When I woke up there was this strange frog on top of Papa.”

  “That was Marie,” Miles said to Sherlock. “A big green stuffed frog, on loan from Keely.”

  Sam was outraged. “He isn’t a girl frog. You said his name was Martin.”

  Miles said, “Hey, I thought you were so macho that it wouldn’t matter. Isn’t that right?”

  While Sam looked uncertain, Miles said, “I told Katie that you’d be here this morning, Sherlock. How’d you manage it?”

  Savich said, “She called Jimmy Maitland, our boss, told him I was in bad shape in Tennessee, and he sent her over in a Black Bell jet helicopter.”

  “Oh wow,” Sam said. “Katie, my papa makes parts for helicopters and he can fly them, too. Can we go home in a helicopter, Papa?”

  “Very doubtful,” Miles said, “particularly an FBI helicopter. Every taxpayer who didn’t get to ride in it would be pretty upset. Isn’t the Cessna any good anymore, Sam?”

  While Sam was trying to explain how much cooler a helicopter was, Katie met Sherlock.

  Sherlock took her hands and just held them in hers. “Thank you so very much for saving Sam.”

  “It was my pleasure. However, Mrs. Savich—”

  “No, just call me Sherlock, everyone does.”

  “I’m the one responsible for your husband being hurt. If I hadn’t run toward that van—”

  “No, no, that’s quite enough. I’ll admit I was angry at
first, but then Dillon told me how you saved Sam not once but twice, by shooting Beau when it was crunch time. So we can stand here and thank each other or we can get on with things.”

  Katie looked at each of them in turn. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you two you may not know yet.”

  Every eye went to her.

  “Clancy wasn’t in the van. He got out before it blew. We’ve got a manhunt going on. If he’s anywhere near here, we’ll get him.”

  Savich said, “Do you have dogs, Sheriff?”

  “Yes, Bud Dicker has four hunting dogs. They’ve been out since about six o’clock this morning. No word yet.”

  Sherlock said, frowning, “I can’t imagine he’d stay in the area unless he was badly hurt. Okay, Katie, I can see you know something more. Come on, cough it up.”

  “It isn’t all that much just yet. I know you’ve all probably wondered by now why Beau and Clancy brought Sam here, to Jessborough, Tennessee, and held him in Bleaker’s old cabin. Was his kidnapping connected to someone local? Or was it all just happenstance, as in there was this cabin, and Clancy and Beau knew about it, and just used it?”

  Savich sighed, recognizing an excellent performance when he saw it, and didn’t say anything.

  Katie said, “Miles, do you know anyone local? Anyone at all?”

  “No, I don’t. Like I told you last night, I’ve never been in this part of Tennessee before in my life.”

  “Okay, so I thought the next step was to connect up Beau and Clancy to a local. It was no big shock to find out that neither of them came from around here, and so, no convenient relatives popped up. But they were both lifelong criminals, in and out of prison, and I just knew to my bones that’s the answer. Clancy or Beau met someone in prison and that someone is from around here or has friends or relatives here. I found out from NCIC that Beau was at Ossining, so I gave them a call to see if they’d ever had a Clancy in their fine facility.

 

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