Bogart became exceedingly curious. “Have you met these men?”
“Unfortunately,” she scoffed while casting herself onto the sofa, “but I don’t know them. They stop by the house now and again.” She offered an arrogant smile. “So she conned you while you were conning her, huh?”
“These guys you met might be behind those who want me and my friends dead,” he informed her. “Anything you can tell me would be helpful.”
“I don’t really know much,” she informed him. “About a week or so ago, these guys started coming to the house. Real rough types and some even worse well-dressed ones, so I avoided them. I only heard them mention one name. Giovanni. I think they meant the infamous mobster.”
Bogart sank into thought and attempted to make sense of what he was hearing.
“If you want to know everything my aunt knows, you need to get your hands on her phone,” Riley replied. “It has everything from recorded phone calls to files and pictures. Unfortunately, it’s encrypted, and she rarely lets it out of her sight.”
“Can you get your hands on it?”
“Maybe when she’s in the shower,” Riley replied, “but that’s a pretty big favor.”
“I’m no stranger to big favors,” Bogart informed her. “I have an assortment of talented friends who can get things done. Name your price.”
She considered the comment and raised her brow. “I want out,” she announced. “My aunt will never let me leave. Get me out of her clutches, and you can name your price.”
“People are trying to kill me,” he reminded her. “You can’t come with me. You can’t be seen anywhere near me. They’ll kill you without thinking twice.”
“Then come back for me,” she replied. “Send one of your talented friends. I’m willing to put a little trust into a stranger to keep his word.”
“As long as we live through this, consider it done,” Bogart informed her.
Chapter Twenty-three
Riley slipped into her sleeper car, startling Bogart. He fidgeted when the door opened then relaxed when he realized it was just her. She grinned and flashed the cell phone.
“She left it in her car when she went to the lounge for a drink,” Riley announced cheerfully. “I think she may have been looking for you.”
Bogart watched Riley fiddle with the phone and immediately tensed. “Maybe you shouldn’t mess with that. My friend should be able to hack it.”
“I’m not messing with it,” she informed him. “I’m turning off GPS, so she can’t locate the phone. You wouldn’t want her catching you with her phone.”
“Smart,” Bogart remarked. “Will she check on you at any time during the night?”
“I’m twenty-four,” Riley scoffed. “I’m not some teenager. No, she won’t check on me.”
“I don’t really understand,” he remarked while again making himself comfortable on the sofa. “What’s stopping you from leaving then?”
“The moving train for starters,” she teased then turned serious. “At the mansion, it’s the estate security guards. If I’m gone longer than I say I’m going to be, they come after me. It’s tough to get out of her reach. She keeps tabs on my credit cards and my associates. No matter what I do, there’s a paper trail leading her right to me. I’m not chained to the wall, but the chains are still there.”
“So leaving the estate grounds isn’t the problem,” Bogart replied while eyeing her. “It’s staying off the grid that’s the problem.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” he announced with his usual charming grin. “I have friends who specialize in helping people disappear.” Bogart sprawled across the sofa and groaned with exhaustion. “The train reaches D.C. tomorrow morning. I’m sure they’ll be watching the exits closely. Do you think you can keep them occupied so I can depart unnoticed?”
“Trust me, Bogart,” she announced and smiled sweetly while studying him where he lay. “I specialize in creating scenes. No one will notice you. They’ll all be watching me.”
He withheld his laugh then glanced at his watch and sighed. “So that’s about ten hours from now.” He offered a moderately boyish grin. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I crashed on your upper berth.”
“It’s refreshing not having a guy hit on me for a change,” she remarked.
He chuckled softly. “Darling, that’s the last thing on my mind. I just want to sleep. Playing the role of a playboy is more exhausting than you’d think.”
“Upper berth is all yours,” she announced with a humored laugh.
†
It was early Saturday morning just a little after sunrise. Pinto stood on the porch dressed in a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt. It was another chilly morning outside the small, remote cabin. She leaned against the support beam and stared seemingly at nothing. Perhaps she was waiting for Beck to return from his ‘bring back Bogart’ mission. Monroe appeared from the cabin and picked up two buckets from the porch. He eyed Pinto and seemed to consider her mood.
“Worried about Beck?” he finally asked, bringing her out of her trance.
Pinto looked at him while straightening and offered a pleasant smile. “No, I know he’s fine,” she replied with a sigh. “I was just watching.”
“Watching what?” Monroe asked and looked in the direction she stared.
Across the field not far from the cabin, Jackie assaulted a makeshift punching bag she hung from a tree. Monroe sighed and shook his head.
“She’s got to let it out some way,” he replied. “Better that bag than my face.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Pinto scolded. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’ve worried about her doing stupid things in the past,” Monroe informed Pinto. “Adopt-a-fed was probably one of the stupidest things, but this week has pushed her to the edge. I’ve never seen her so hurt and so angry at the same time. She’s at peace with Holden safe in Othello’s capable hands, but this Zack thing is killing her.”
Pinto stared at Monroe and appeared curious by his reaction to Jackie’s state of mind.
“She’s treating it like it’s all some sort of game,” he remarked with frustration. “She trusts Zack to do the right thing, and I’m afraid it’s going to get her killed.”
“If she trusts him, why is she hurt and angry?” Pinto asked.
“Because somewhere deep inside, she knows he’s betrayed her and us,” he explained. “There’s that small part of her that wants to kill everything in her path.”
“Maybe I should talk to her,” Pinto suggested.
“I’ve tried,” he remarked. “She’s too damned stubborn to listen to anyone.”
“No offense, Monroe,” Pinto announced and offered a sweet smile, “but I think this needs a woman’s touch.”
“Good luck with that,” Monroe muttered then snorted a laugh. “Jackie’s not familiar with the sisterhood concept. I’ll be at the stream.”
As Monroe walked off the porch, Pinto headed across the field and joined Jackie. She watched in silence as Jackie kicked the crap out of the makeshift punching bag. Jackie took a moment to eye Pinto then continued her assault.
“Monroe send you to talk me off the ledge?” she finally asked and again kicked the bag.
“No,” Pinto replied as she leaned against a nearby tree. “I was just wondering if you’d be willing to teach me a few life-saving moves.”
Jackie straightened and looked at Pinto with some surprise. “Really?”
“It’s recently occurred to me that being Beck’s girl comes with its own set of challenges,” she informed Jackie. “If I want to survive the experience, I need a little more protection than a handgun.”
“Assault rifles are extremely empowering,” Jackie reported with a sly smile.
“I want to learn to defend myself using my own body,” Pinto countered. “I’ve never thrown a punch in my life. I’m not even sure I’ve ever made a fist.”
“With your shoulder injury on the mend, I don’t recommend to
o much hand-to-hand combat,” Jackie informed her. “Why don’t I show you some kicks?”
“Yes, kicks,” Pinto practically cried out with enthusiasm and straightened. “I want to kick some bad guy ass.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Jackie teased.
†
The commotion coming from the train at eight o’clock Saturday morning was enough to clog up the aisle for departing passengers allowing Bogart to slip off the train unnoticed. Riley stood in a face-off with one of the two men who’d been following Bogart that she claimed worked for her aunt.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Riley demanded, shouting loud enough for the passengers in the aisle to hear.
“What are you talking about?” her aunt’s guard asked with surprise.
“Don’t act innocent,” she snarled. “You put your hand on my ass. My God, you must be twice my age!”
“What’s going on?” another male passenger suddenly demanded and shoved the guard. “Are you copping a feel? Leave the girl alone and pick on someone your own size!”
“She’s making it up,” the guard informed the man. “She enjoys causing a scene.”
“Oh, sure,” a woman a few feet away declared. “Blame the defenseless girl.”
“She’s hardly defenseless,” the guard launched back.
Melissa pushed her way through the congested train aisle with the second guard on her heels. She grabbed Riley by the arm and looked at the massive crowd stranded in the aisle coming to Riley’s defense.
“My niece is only seeking attention,” Melissa informed them. “She’s under the care of a psychiatrist for this sort of behavior. Everyone needs to go about their business, or I’ll be the one calling security.”
One of the porters pushed his way through and successfully broke up the crowd, directing people from the train. Riley gave Bogart nearly twenty minute’s head start, which would be plenty of time for the conman to make his escape. Bogart still had a two-hour layover at the train station before hopping a train to Virginia. It would be a much smaller train, forcing him to find somewhere cramped to hide. If the men somehow knew he was heading to Virginia, they’d likely be casing that train. It was in his best interest to find a ride to the next town and, as much as he hated to admit it, he’d need to steal a car to reach his final destination.
Bogart checked a map within the station and discovered a subway, which ran passengers from the train station to a long-term parking lot. He was familiar with the parking lot. It was free to park, which meant there weren’t any tolls or security officers to check his identity. He just needed to slip across the large waiting area and head toward the ground transportation. With only his duffel bag that he’d reclaimed from Melissa’s cabin, he was making good time. Halfway through the train station, he had the sense he was being followed. His two stalkers had somehow found him despite his head start. He had to lose them before they discovered he was heading for the shuttle. They’d easily figure out his new plan from there. He preferred they continued to believe he intended to hop another train.
He left the station and headed across the train platforms beyond the passenger area. If he were correct, they’d assume he was going to hop a train, and he needed to sell it. The men followed him into a less populated area near the large assortment of tracks with trains arriving and departing. Unfortunately, he was also giving them the opportunity to take him out unnoticed. When he saw them reaching for their guns, he knew he was in trouble. There were still security cameras along the back portion of the station, so they weren’t in any hurry to pull their weapons and shoot him on camera. Their window of opportunity was coming up. He had seconds; not minutes to get away from them. Several trains were coming and going along several lanes of tracks.
Bogart watched the trains as he hurried along the tracks. His timing had to be perfect. He now ran parallel with the tracks and waited for his opportunity. When a train heading south was close enough with another train heading north, Bogart ran across the track in front of the first train and immediately crossed the track in front of the second train heading in the opposite direction. The men attempted to follow him, making the first train, but they hadn’t been aware of the northbound train. It was suddenly upon them. The first man was struck by the train while the second man managed to stop in time. By the time the train finished passing, Bogart was gone, leaving his stalker one man short and alone.
Chapter Twenty-four
Gil, Beck, and Darth waited by the plane in a secluded field. It was a little after ten o’clock that morning, and they had another two hours before Bogart’s train would be arriving at the train station, which was only thirty minutes from their location. They’d secured a car to meet him at the station for their return to the plane. The satellite phone rang, surprising both. Beck grabbed the phone and placed it to his ear.
“Yeah,” he replied, slightly concerned someone else got the satellite number.
“I was at the rendezvous,” Bogart announced from the other end. “Where the hell are you guys?”
Beck sighed with relief. “We thought you weren’t getting in until noon,” he informed him. “There were some complications at the rendezvous. Where are you now?”
“I decided to borrow a car. I made better time driving,” Bogart informed them. “I’m outside a diner in town.”
“Wait there,” Beck announced. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Take your time,” he replied. “Some pretty lady offered to buy me breakfast.”
Beck rolled his eyes. “Twenty minutes,” he reconfirmed then disconnected the call. He glared at Gil, who still stared at him awaiting acknowledgment. “How many lives does that boy have?” Beck demanded.
“You have to give him credit for surviving this long,” Gil casually replied.
“Let’s go get him.”
†
Sal walked onto the cabin porch later that morning and saw Monroe leaning against the support post with his arms folded across his chest. He stared across the field with a disapproving look. Sal glanced in the direction he stared. Pinto kicked at Jackie, who blocked the same kick repeatedly. They then moved on to a different kick.
“Is that my daughter?” Sal asked with surprise.
“Yep,” Monroe muttered with little emotion. “Beck’s not going to like it.”
“Well, the last week has proven she should learn to defend herself,” Sal insisted.
“Learning self-defense is one thing,” Monroe remarked. “Learning Jackie’s ‘kick ass’ karate is totally different. She’s not teaching her to defend herself. She’s teaching her how to maim someone.”
Sal gave him a look of disinterest and shrugged. “If it saves her life, I’m not too particular the manner in which she learns or how she defeats her attacker.”
†
An hour later, Jackie and Pinto walked barefoot through the stream to cool off after their training session. Pinto had shed her sweatshirt to reveal a tank top, giving her the same moderately dangerous look as Jackie.
“Have you considered the possibility the guys are right?” Pinto asked, attempting to approach the subject delicately. “I mean, after what he did to Monroe. Aren’t you the least bit worried he might actually hurt you?”
“Zack’s not crazy,” Jackie insisted. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he has his reasons for doing what he did. He left me some clues. I just need to figure out what he’s trying to tell me.”
“But Mac said he was fine one day and over the edge the next,” Pinto protested. “Isn’t it possible he’s seen too much action and has finally lost it?”
“A normal man could never have survived what’s in Zack’s head,” Jackie informed her. “He has his shit together. He operates on a completely different level than the rest of us.”
“But doesn’t that also mean these secret messages he’s leaving for you could be his way of bringing you to him?” She fidgeted slightly as her look turned concerned. “He knows you, Jackie. He
knows how you think. He can easily prey on your emotions, particularly for him.”
“That’s a two-way street, Pinto,” she remarked and eyed her slightly baffled counterpart. “I know Zack better than most women know their husbands. I could tear him apart from the inside if it were my intent.” Jackie sank into thought. “I just need something that will throw him off his game.”
“Like what? Fishnet stockings and a garter belt?” Pinto remarked under her breath.
“Close,” Jackie replied, surprising her with the comment. “I need to learn some superhero moves.”
Pinto stared at her with confusion. “Superhero movies?” she asked. “What does that even mean?”
“Certain gymnastic flips I could incorporate into my kicks,” Jackie replied. “Zack became obsessed with me learning gymnastics so I could do flips. He also had this thing about me trading in my tactical batons for swords.” She attempted a smile. “Zack has a warped sense of desire.” She sank into her own thoughts and made a face. “I swear he got some sort of perverse pleasure whenever I kicked him in the groin.”
“Yeah, Beck sort of mentioned Zack’s unusual obsession with you,” Pinto muttered.
“Well, I’d like to use that unusual obsession to pull him back,” she announced.
“And you think a few gymnastic flips will make the difference?”
“I’m willing to try anything,” Jackie replied.
Pinto fidgeted as if holding back then groaned. “I took a few years of gymnastics,” she reluctantly informed her. “I could teach you some of the flips.”
Jackie stared at Pinto with surprise. “Really? All things considered, you’d do that?”
“You have your own demons to fight,” she remarked. “It’s really not my place to question why you feel you must fight.” Pinto then ran her fingers through her hair and groaned. “Beck’s going to kill me if he finds out.”
“You won’t be doing anything wrong,” Jackie informed her. “Just because I want to learn some gymnastics that doesn’t mean I have any intentions to confront Zack. Even if you suspect I do, I have absolutely no idea where to find him.”
Outside the Wire Page 13
