He thought about hiding, but where? He couldn’t do it in one of the stores. He had to keep moving.
He raced through the mall. He decided he would leave the mall through the other exit. This way, by the time the officers went through the mall looking for him, he would’ve already gone.
He headed in the direction of the exit.
Up ahead, he noticed two mall security guards heading toward him.
One was talking on his walkie-talkie, while the other was scanning the faces of the shoppers.
Hyder slowed down—his running would attract their attention—but he kept moving.
He was not even a few feet ahead when he heard, “There he is!”
The security guards were now running his way.
He bolted. He saw an escalator going up and he quickly jumped on it. He leaped over the steps, two at a time, and then moved down the second floor.
The shoppers were looking at him suspiciously, but he didn’t care. He had to find a way out of the mall. He was now stuck in an enclosed environment.
There was another escalator leading down.
He reached the top of it, stopped.
At the bottom, waiting for him, was one of the security guards.
He turned, saw the other guard coming up the other escalator.
They were blocking off all his exits.
He saw a staircase, began to run towards it.
He ran as hard as his legs would allow him. When he reached the steps, he was nearly out of breath.
The back of his throat was dry. He badly needed a glass of water. Thank God I’m not fasting, he thought.
He went down the steps. At the bottom he saw an exit.
He then felt a strong hand on his shoulder. It gripped him and turned him around.
He found himself face to face with one of the men with sunglasses.
“You’re under arrest,” the man growled.
Hyder didn’t know what came over him, maybe it was his survival instincts, but he head-butted the man in the chest.
The man fell back, but didn’t let go.
Hyder twisted and turned and in an instant he was free of his jacket. He sprinted clear before the policeman could grab for him again.
Hyder pushed through the exit doors and ran down the mall’s parking lot.
His legs burned and his heart pounded. He was sweating profusely. But he didn’t care. The only thing he thought about was getting away.
He reached the end of the parking lot, found himself by the side of the road.
He was completely spent. His lungs were on fire and he could barely breathe. He coughed loudly. He was ready to keel over. He had no more energy left.
He spotted the men with sunglasses and the security guards. They were coming down the parking lot.
On his right, in the distance, he saw several police cruisers with their sirens blazing and lights flashing heading his way.
On his left, down the road, he saw more police cruisers blocking the road.
There was nowhere for him to go.
He had to give himself up.
Up ahead, though, he saw a tiny road leading out to somewhere. He just didn’t have the energy to find out where it went.
He fell on his knees and placed his hands in the air.
Suddenly, a white SUV pulled up and the door swung open.
“Get in now!” the driver yelled.
Hyder looked around, confused.
“If you don’t want to go to jail, then get inside,” he said.
Hyder checked his surroundings. They were seconds away from reaching him.
He got in.
The driver turned the wheel sharply and then entered the tiny road. He accelerated. The SUV shot down the street.
He then went behind a building, scanned a card, and entered a private parking garage.
He drove inside the lot for several minutes and then exited from the other side. He finally slowed down.
“Who are you?” Hyder said to him.
He was black. He had on baggy jeans with shiny red sneakers. His baseball cap was tilted to the side and around his neck he wore a heavy gold chain.
He didn’t respond, but kept his eyes on the road.
“Where are you taking me?” Hyder asked.
“You’ll find out soon,” the driver finally said.
SEVENTY-TWO
Lopez was back in Halton’s office. Halton’s face was red and it looked like his head would explode.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were meeting Ali at the Square?” he demanded.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were following me?” she snapped back.
“I gave you an opportunity to come clean, but you didn’t,” he replied. “We have evidence that proves he’s the one who shot Nolan.”
“But do you know why he did it?”
Halton threw up his arms in frustration. “Here we go again. “We will leave the motives for the jury to bang their heads over. Our job is to find who committed the crime and then apprehend them.” Halton pointed at Lopez.
You, detective, were not forthcoming with your information.”
“With all due respect, sir,” she said between clenched teeth. “You never disclosed the forensic report to me either. So I guess we are even.”
Halton didn’t like her response, but he knew she was right.
He leaned over and said, “I know Nolan and Ali are friends and I’m sure you feel something for him, but he shot Nolan, don’t forget that. I’m only trying to find out what’s going on.”
“I’m trying to find out, too, but I’m not doing it by scaring shoppers in a mall, or even putting pedestrian’s lives in danger by running down streets.”
“We wanted to get Ali.”
“And did you?”
Halton went silent.
Lopez got up to leave.
“We will find him, and we will put him in jail.” Halton vowed.
“I know you will do your job, sir,” she said. “Please let me do mine.”
With that, she left.
SEVENTY-THREE
Instead of going away from the city, Hyder realized they were going further into it. The SUV turned into a neighborhood, and Hyder immediately recognized it as one that was in the rough part of town.
Hyder had been here before when he did stories on crime, unemployment, and even violence.
Poverty did not discriminate, and the people living in this neighborhood came from all parts of the world. It was sort of a melting pot of various cultures.
He saw women pushing strollers with crosses around their necks. He saw men with beards and prayer caps next to women wearing hijabs and scarves. He saw women wearing saris with bindi on their foreheads.
They were all here because the harsh realities of life had made it difficult to be elsewhere.
Even amidst the gangs, the shootings, the deaths, they had managed to co-exist.
The SUV parked behind a building and they got out.
“Why are we here?” Hyder asked.
“We’re meeting someone.”
“Who?”
The driver did not respond.
They went inside the building and took the elevator all the way to the top floor. The hallway had a pungent smell, and it reminded Hyder of marijuana.
The driver rapped his knuckles on the door.
“Password?” a voice said from behind the door.
“Cassius Clay.”
Hyder knew he was referring to Muhammad Ali’s former name. Maybe they were boxing fans.
The door swung open and they were face to face with a man who looked like a giant. He was close to six-eight, three hundred and fifty pounds, and his head was shaved.
He was either an ex-football player or a wrestler. Regardless, Hyder immediately found him intimidating.
The apartment was sparsely furnished. There was a sofa in the middle with a sixty-inch television in front of it.
A small coffee table next to the sofa was stacked with boxes of pizz
a.
A man came out of another room. He was medium height, skinny, with corn rows in his hair, and he had big, gentle eyes. “You’re a hard man to keep track of,” he said to Hyder. “Lucky for you, though, my boy Dante got to you just in time.”
The driver grinned.
The man then extended his hand. “My name is DeShawn Price.”
Hyder’s eyes went wide with recognition. DeShawn was Jazmin’s older brother. “I thought you were in prison,” Hyder said.
“Got out a couple of days ago,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for my baby sister. I had Dante go and search for you, and that’s when I found out the police were looking for you. You must’ve done something really bad for all those cops to be running after you.”
Hyder knew the news would be out soon, so why bother hiding it? “I shot a detective.”
“Whoa, for real?” His eyebrows went up.
“It was an accident…” Hyder’s voice trailed off. He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We’ll respect that.”
The driver and the giant nodded in agreement.
DeShawn said, “Come, I ordered pizza for you. No bacon, of course. Jazmin told me you guys don’t eat that. Oh, shit, there was something else she told me… what was it, Tiny?”
The giant said, “It is the Holy month of Ramadan where Muslims from all over the world refrain from eating and drinking, and also avoid any vices by spending their time in the worship of Almighty God.”
“Tiny likes to read a lot,” DeShawn explained.
Tiny smiled, exposing his teeth.
DeShawn said, “So, I guess you’re fasting, right?”
“Not today,” Hyder replied. “I’m actually quite hungry. Also, can I get some water? All that running has made me really thirsty.”
“Tiny, get the man some grape juice from the fridge.”
Tiny quickly obliged.
It was cold and refreshing as Hyder drank it down. They sat around the sofa, each with a slice of pizza in their hand.
Hyder bit into the veggie pizza and looked around the apartment.
“It’s not mine,” DeShawn said as if reading Hyder’s mind. “It’s rented out to Dante’s cousin.”
“Where’s his cousin?”
“The same place I was for the last three years.”
Hyder understood. DeShawn was referring to the state penitentiary.
“What’s your story, DeShawn?” Hyder asked. “I only know what Jazmin told me.”
“What she told is all you need to know, my friend,” he said. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but I always say, if you grew up like I did, you would’ve done the same things that I did, maybe even worse.”
Hyder nodded and finished his meal.
“I will never forget what you did for my sister,” DeShawn continued. “You didn’t have to, but you went out of your way to do it. I had my boys keep an eye on you at Jazmin’s get-well party.”
“So, it was you guys who I saw outside the house?” Hyder asked.
Both Tiny and Dante grinned.
DeShawn said, “I want you to know that I have your back. I’m going to do everything to help you. I will make sure the police don’t get to you.”
“Thank you,” was all Hyder could say.
SEVENTY-FOUR
Lopez was in the IT Investigative Unit, waiting for Carl Danka to show up. She hadn’t called before showing up so, she couldn’t begrudge him for not being there. She just expected he would be.
Danka was known to live in the unit for days on end. To not see him there was a surprise.
She asked around, but no one knew when he would return.
She thought about leaving, but she needed his help more than ever.
She was certain Pascale wasn’t following her anymore—she had already given him a piece of her mind at the Square—but she was still careful to watch her back.
Right now, though, Pascale was too preoccupied with finding Hyder then see what she was up to.
Hyder.
There was something he had said at the Square that she needed to confirm.
She tapped her foot and looked at her watch.
She was about to leave when she spotted Danka coming down the hall.
“Where have you been?” she said.
He shrugged as if he was embarrassed by the answer.
She examined him. He looked much cleaner than the last time she had met him. She sniffed. “Is that cologne?”
“Yeah.” He looked away. “There was a petition circulated in the unit that I had to take a shower or else they’d kick me out. So I was forced to go home.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
“You think I’m hot now, right?” He suddenly grinned. “You want to go out with me?”
“Not in a million years, but I want you to do something for me.”
They were behind Danka’s desk, with Danka working on his keyboard. He pulled up the video from the night of the Riverfield Massacre.
“Go to the end,” she said. The video fast-forwarded. “Stop right there.”
On the screen, Rudy Jr. was smiling and talking to his girlfriend, Nataly, when suddenly there was a telephone call. He got up to answer it and the next time he reappeared on the screen, he was holding a knife.
Lopez squinted as if in deep thought.
Hyder had said that Nolan was smiling and happy, but then he received a telephone call, after which he went over the kitchen to grab a knife and attacked him.
This was exactly what Rudy Jr. did.
There is a link between the two cases, she concluded.
“Thanks for your help,” she said and quickly left the unit.
She drove like a madwoman. There were still a lot of questions, but at least now she had answers to some of them.
She parked in front of Nolan’s house. After ducking through the yellow police tape, she went in.
The place was exactly how she had left it the night before.
There was still a lot of blood on the kitchen floor.
She walked around the scene to determine what exactly happened. She then went into the kitchen. From her visits to Nolan’s house, she could tell something was missing.
She searched the kitchen area, then moved to the living room. She looked underneath the coffee table, then underneath the side table, and even underneath the sofa, but she couldn’t find what she was looking for.
She then noticed a speck of blood on the living room wall.
She went over.
When Nolan had attacked Hyder, Hyder had managed to grab Nolan’s weapon, which he normally kept on the side table, and he had fired in his direction. The impact of the shot had forced Nolan to release his grip, which made the knife fly across the room, hit the wall, and fall behind the television.
She removed a handkerchief from her pocket, leaned down, and picked up the bloodstained knife.
She was certain the fingerprints on the handle were Nolan’s, and the blood on the blade belonged to Hyder.
Hyder was telling the truth.
She dialed his cell phone number, but the operator informed her that it was not in service. She then thought of something. She tried the last number he had called her from. After a few rings it went to voice mail, “Hyder, its Marina,” she said. “I’m sorry about what happened in the Square. I swear I had nothing to do with it. Also, I believe you. I’ve found the knife Tom attacked you with. Please call me back. I can help you.”
She hung up and sat on the sofa, relieved that she had made some progress in the case.
She was also relieved that Hyder wasn’t a cold blooded murderer. Maybe that was why Nolan wanted her to find and help him. He knew Hyder was only acting in self-defense. But why did Nolan attack him in the first place? What compelled him to do so?
As she was pondering this, she noticed something in the hall, a box placed next to Nolan’s shoes.
She stood up and went over to
it.
Her mouth fell open when she saw what it was.
It was a courier package from Devon Pharma, the very same one she had seen at the apartments on Riverfield Street.
She grabbed it and raced out of the house.
SEVENTY-FIVE
Hyder was on the sofa with Tiny and Dante next to him. With Tiny’s size, Hyder was scrunched into the corner. He didn’t complain. Had it not been for them, he probably would have been in a cell with someone Tiny’s size but named Bubba.
They were watching cartoons, laughing at all the antics on the screen.
Hyder didn’t share their excitement. He was feeling the stress.
He was still a fugitive. The police were out there looking for him. Soon all his exits and entries would be blocked. Even this apartment, which was right now his safe haven, would no longer be that.
Plus, he was endangering everyone’s safety. DeShawn, Tiny, and Dante were now fully harboring a fugitive. They had become complicit in his escape.
DeShawn was doing it out of loyalty to his sister, something Hyder had not asked for, but was grateful for nonetheless.
But what was he accomplishing by running away? He was only delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later the police would find him. If not here, then somewhere else.
Why not give himself up and stop putting others at risk? He had already done enough damage, why do more?
He put his face in his hands.
He was so confused. He just wanted this nightmare to be over.
When he pulled his hands away he found Dante and Tiny staring at him.
“You okay?” Dante asked.
“Um… yeah, I’m just stressed.”
Tiny said, “You know what helps me relieve stress? Meditation.”
Hyder couldn’t imagine seeing a giant of a man, crossed legs, with his eyes closed and reciting, “Om. Shanti. Om.”
“What time is it?” Hyder asked.
“Past noon,” Dante said.
“I need to pray,” he said. He needed something to relieve the stress and clear his head.
“Okay, what do you need?” Dante said.
“Where’s your washroom?”
Dante pointed.
The Runaway Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #3) Page 15
