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Hide in Plain Sight

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by Sara Orwig




  Hide in Plain Sight

  Sara Orwig

  With thanks to Lucia Macro and Angela Catalano.

  Thanks to Jeri Cook, Lynn Holmes and the

  Austin Police Department, for answering questions.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Prologue

  “Will the foreman please read the verdict of the jury?” the judge instructed.

  Feeling certain she and the other jurors had done the right thing, Rebecca Bolen rose to her feet, standing in the front row of the jury box. Thunder rattled the long, narrow windows of the Texas courthouse and sheets of rain beat against it. The air inside was stifling—as if a storm were brewing within the room. Her gaze ran across the courtroom, encompassing spectators, the detectives who had testified, the prosecution. Then she looked at the defendant, Lenny Meskell.

  Thick-shouldered, sandy-haired, dressed in a tan suit and a dark brown tie, Meskell looked more like a successful businessman than her idea of a hardened killer. Yet the evidence was damning: A camera had recorded Meskell holding a gun on the convenience-store clerk and then shooting him.

  A witness had picked Lenny Meskell out in a lineup. Another witness had turned in the license number of the car he had used. Police witnesses had testified about the high-speed chase he led them on. Then detectives had testified about the shoot-out in which Meskell gunned down a policeman. It hadn’t taken the jury an hour to reach a verdict.

  Lightning flashed and another clap of thunder reverberated in the room. The courtroom walls were cracked and a faint smell of mildew was in the air. Throughout the trial, the hall had been filled with deputies with metal detectors. The press had wanted interviews constantly, although the jurors had been cautioned by the judge not to talk to anyone. She was anxious to get home and away from the tensions of the trial.

  Rebecca straightened the jacket of her beige linen suit. As she lifted her head, she felt compelled to glance across the courtroom. The defendant’s icy gaze was fixed on her. She felt a slight chill, because she knew he had killed more than once, knew he had threatened to escape during the trial.

  Trying to ignore his unwavering glare, she glanced at the slip of paper in her hand. “We, the jury,” she read in a steady voice, “find the defendant guilty of murder.”

  “No!” Meskell yelled, bursting from his chair.

  Pandemonium broke loose. Lenny Meskell’s chair crashed behind him. He sprang over the table and ran toward her.

  Rebecca looked into cold blue eyes and raised her hands, fists doubled, to defend herself as he lunged toward her.

  In a flash, one of the detectives jumped over the railing. He caught Meskell’s shoulder and spun him around. The detective pivoted so that all his weight was behind the blow as he slammed his fist into Meskell, connecting with his jaw. The crack of bone on bone was loud, and Meskell staggered.

  “You!” Meskell snapped. “You damn bastard!” he screamed at the detective, lunging for him.

  Instantly, court deputies grabbed Meskell’s arms and tugged at him as he fought them and yanked one arm free, pointing at Rebecca.

  “I'll kill you for this!” he shouted. “You're dead!” His blue eyes met Rebecca’s, and she looked directly at him, feeling the lash of his rage. “I swear I'll get you!” He shoved a deputy, yanking his gun from its holster.

  The detective kicked Meskell’s hand, and the pistol went flying while another deputy grabbed Meskell’s arms and pinned them behind him.

  “I'll get you, too, cop!” Meskell yelled, struggling with the deputies as they shoved him to the floor to cuff him.

  Rebecca shivered, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing. The judge banged his gavel for order as reporters buzzed. While noise hummed around her, she stood in stunned surprise at Lenny Meskell’s outburst.

  Thinking about her children, Rebecca felt icy. To do her civic duty and serve on this jury, she had rearranged her schedules, missed work, lost sleep. She’d had no choice about serving, and she’d felt she was doing what she should. Now she wished she had never been called for jury duty.

  The detective turned to look at her, his hazel eyes meeting hers, as a deputy stepped over to her.

  “All you all right?” the deputy asked.

  “I'm fine,” she answered perfunctorily, caught in the detective’s steady gaze. She was aware of his height, hazel eyes, firm jaw and thick brown hair. In the melee, locks of his hair had tumbled across his forehead, and he raked his fingers through them now, combing them back. What was his name again? she thought dazedly. Delancy, yes. Jake Delancy. He nodded at her and then turned away, straightening his coat and tie.

  Suddenly she realized that the other jurors had scrambled to the far end of the jury box and she stood alone. Now they slowly began to move back to their seats.

  The deputies shoved Lenny Meskell down onto a chair. Quiet was restored. Judge Driskell ordered Lenny to reappear for sentencing, set the date, and finally turned to thank the jury.

  As if the outburst had never occurred, Judge Driskell told the jury what good citizens they had been. He told them how patriotic they had been by doing their duty. Still stunned by the outburst, Rebecca barely heard him. Her gaze moved across the courtroom, trying to avoid Lenny Meskell, meeting the hazel-eyed stare of Detective Delancy.

  She looked away, focusing on the judge. Finally they were dismissed, and a deputy guided them out a back door to avoid reporters. A few jurors went down the hall to the elevators. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw them standing in clusters of reporters, who snapped pictures. She noticed Detective Delancy crossing the hall in long strides and disappearing into an office.

  “This way, folks,” the deputy said, closing the door to the hall behind them. He pointed toward the stairs. “If you don’t want to be interviewed, you can get out the back without anyone asking questions.”

  Outside, when she ran through the rain to the parking garage, she inhaled deeply of the spring air. The trial was over, Lenny Meskell would be locked away, and more than likely given a death sentence. She would never cross paths with him again. She hurried along a glistening sidewalk, avoiding silvery puddles of rain. Had Lenny Meskell been terribly shocked by the verdict? The jurors had found him guilty swiftly and unanimously.

  You're dead! I swear I'll get you! The words echoed in her mind, and she saw again his cold, blue eyes staring at her with hatred. Rebecca shivered and hurried a little faster, her heels clicking against the wet pavement. She crossed the street and rushed along another block, pausing at the corner, finally feeling the tension leave her shoulders as she became more aware of her surroundings.

  Waiting for the light to change, she looked at the tall buildings of downtown Austin. High above the buildings, a rainbow arched across the sky. The rain had diminished to a fine mist, and the air smelled sweet and carried the freshness of early spring.

  Now the outburst in the courtroom seemed less frightening, a momentary explosion that had been brought under control. Lenny Meskell was locked away and soon would be headed for the penitentiary. He would never have a chance to carry out his threat against her.

  It was early April, and within the hour she would be home safe with her girls and the incident would be forgotten.

  Chapter 1

  Two Months Later

  Lenny Meskell is armed,
dangerous, and in this vicinity,” Detective Captain Richard Vance said, looking at the men of the robbery-homicide unit of the Austin Police Department. Six men were seated around a table. Fluorescent lights were bright overhead; the only sound was the rustle of papers as Vance flipped through a file on Meskell. The special meeting had been called early this morning, and Detective Lieutenant Jake Delancy knew is quiet weekend was gone.

  “We don’t know if he’s still around here. If I had been given the death penalty, I’d be in Mexico by now,” Detective Sergeant Will Gowdy said.

  “He’s threatened every juror that served at his trial and sworn to get them. It’s just his style. He’s a sociopathic killer—two killings that we know about. Look at his record of prior arrests and the time he’s served,” Vance said, thumping the file, and then continued.

  “The D.A. is having fits. If Meskell gets even one juror, the killing would wreak havoc on our jury system. We have to operate on the assumption Lenny is here and he will carry out his threat.” Vance spoke impatiently, running his hand over the top of his head, his frustration clear in the tone of his voice.

  Jake Delancy shifted, sharing Vance’s frustration, wanting to get his hands on Lenny personally. He had been the detective in charge of the case against Lenny, the one who brought him in after the convenience-store killing. He had been there the night Lenny Meskell gunned down Dusty Smith, a fellow officer, and memories of that night still brought a stab of pain. It was particularly frustrating to know that after more than a year’s work, work that had resulted in a solid conviction, Lenny had escaped.

  “This is top priority,” Vance continued, his brown eyes looking at each man. “Now, here are the jurors,” Vance said, passing out eight-by-ten glossies. As soon as the pictures had been distributed, he cleared his throat.

  “You have on the table in front of you information about each one of these people.”

  Jake studied the faces in the pictures, the light reflecting off the glossy finishes. His attention returned to one face in particular. Rebecca Bolen. He remembered her name and the moment when Meskell had gone for her in the courtroom. Her hair was pulled back behind her head in the picture the way she had worn it at the trial. As he fingered the photograph, he could see why she had received so much media attention. She was a looker.

  “The women will be the most vulnerable, and there were seven of them on this jury. Who will be the biggest risk?”

  “He said he would get the woman who was foreman,” Jake Delancy said. “And if Lenny gets her, it'll generate publicity beyond his wildest hopes.”

  “I agree, and so does the D.A.,” Richard Vance said. “We can assign uniformed men to all these women except Rebecca Bolen,” Richard announced solemnly. “The D.A. wants her protected at all costs. We'll place one of our own men with Rebecca Bolen.”

  Jake looked across the table at Ray Holder, who rolled his eyes. Several of the detectives exchanged glances, and Jake knew none of them wanted the task of baby-sitting a juror when Lenny was on the loose.

  “I'll volunteer for the blonde if she’s single,” Jay Werner quipped, and several men chuckled.

  “Plenty of men would volunteer to be her bodyguard,” Jake remarked dryly, studying her picture. He leaned back in the chair and pushed open his coat, stretching out his long legs. He was barely aware of the weight of the pistol in his shoulder holster.

  “Here’s our plan,” Vance continued. “Rebecca Bolen will be a decoy—within limits. We'll place one of our men with her, keep a cop outside in the area and wait for Meskell to come after her.”

  “With constant protection for the juror, what makes you think Meskell will attempt anything?” Jay Werner asked.

  “He'll go after her,” Jake said dryly, remembering the thick file he had built on Lenny Meskell. “He'll try to carry out his threat.”

  “Jake’s right,” Vance said. “Meskell isn’t the kind to wait. He wants instant gratification. And we'll be waiting for him.”

  “You're making her a decoy instead of placing her in a safe house,” Jake said.

  “She’s aware of the risks. I've talked with her at length about this. And I've told her we'll give her all the protection she needs.” He looked directly at Jake, and then his gaze went around the table, taking in each detective. “I want her to get through this unharmed. I think we can protect her or I’d never agree to this. Meskell’s going to make a move. We might as well set things up so we know where he'll make the move, who it'll be against, and hopefully, when and how he'll attempt his revenge.”

  Vance unfolded a chart and spread it before them. “Here’s her house,” he said, pointing to a small black square. “She lives on an acreage on the edge of the city, in our jurisdiction. Here’s the highway past the place, and her drive. There are woods near the house. We're going to keep a man on the place around the clock.”

  “Just one man?” Werner asked.

  “With a man inside, as well, we think that’s all we'll need. We'll have surveillance points set up on a back road where we can watch anyone approaching the place. There’s no other way to get to her house except hiking cross-country. Jake, you know Meskell—how likely is he to do that?”

  “Not likely. He’s no country boy. He’s pure city.”

  “That’s right. And this is hilly terrain. If he does go cross-country and we miss him, we'll still have a man inside the house with the family. We should be able to close in on him before he can do anything.”

  “If the surveillance guys see him drive past on any of the access roads,” Jay Werner said thoughtfully, “we close in and surround him. He may make a desperate run for the house.”

  “The minute he’s spotted, the SWAT team will be sent to the house. We'll cover the grounds and get the chopper out. The man inside will be notified immediately.”

  “Who gets that great job?” Werner asked.

  “This is top-priority,” Vance said solemnly, “and we're giving it all the manpower we can. Kurt, you'll head up the search for Lenny. Jay, you'll be in charge of surveillance.”

  Jake’s first reaction was disappointment. But his surprise at not being chosen to head the surveillance team turned to wariness as Richard Vance’s gaze swung around to rest on him. Vance gave him one of his scowling “We all must sacrifice” looks, and Jake got a sinking feeling.

  “Jake, we've got to protect these jurors. Everyone’s on my back about that. I'm putting you with—”

  “No!” Jake blurted out, knowing what Vance was going to say. “Let me go after Lenny,” he said tightly. “I watched the bastard gun down Dusty. I want to get him!”

  “You're to stay with Mrs. Bolen,” Vance announced firmly, and Jake knew what that implacable tone meant. It was useless to protest further.

  For the remainder of the meeting, Jake listened to Vance, making notes, offering his opinion. Then when the meeting broke up, Vance asked him to wait.

  As soon as the two men were alone, Vance faced him squarely. “You understand why we need you with the widow.”

  “Dammit,” Jake exclaimed, leaning forward, feeling his muscles tense. “I don’t want to baby-sit some blonde while everyone is out after Lenny!”

  “Sorry. She’s the one he'll go for. You said it yourself. She’s high-profile—the foreman. We've got to protect her, and you're the man.”

  “C'mon, Richard. For Lord’s sake, don’t put me on that assignment. I'll go nuts out there!”

  “Jake—”

  “Let the woman hire a bodyguard,” Jake persisted.

  “Even if she’d do it, I’d still send you, because I need a man with brains, not just muscle. You're to watch her. Come hell or high water, see to it that Lenny doesn’t get to her. Remember, he has a rape charge way back in his record. He got off light because he was a juvenile.”

  Vance looked beyond Jake and took a deep breath, his forehead knotting in a scowl. “She has an etched-glass business, and she did the windows in the governor’s house before he was elected. He’s putt
ing pressure on us to protect her, too. We can’t send a uniformed cop—we've got to have a detective. The woman is beautiful and the media loved her during Meskell’s trial. They will crucify us if Meskell guns her down. Get out there as soon as you can. I told her you would be there today.”

  “Oh, dammit!” Jake said, looking down at the dossier in front of him. Widowed, two children—Tara, seven years old, and Celia, five years old. Lives on an acreage on edge of Austin city limits. No men in her life.

  “She’s on an acreage, for Lord’s sake. Put her in a safe house and let me hunt down Meskell.”

  “We thought about it, but we need her to seem vulnerable if Meskell is to make a move. When he does, we'll be there to protect her and stop him.”

  “Dammit, Richard, this is a woman with two little kids. I'll go nuts.”

  For the first time since the meeting started, a hint of a smile flitted over Richard Vance’s face. “It'll do a confirmed old bachelor like you good.”

  “The hell you say.”

  “For as long as I can spare the manpower, I'll put a man on the grounds, as well as you with her. As soon as I get someone, I'll let you know and tell them to check in with you. We'll have the surveillance set up by two o'clock today.”

  Richard Vance gathered up his things and dropped a scrap of paper in front of Jake. “Here’s her phone number. I'm counting on you, Jake. And don’t forget, Lenny threatened you, too.”

  “And I hope he comes after me,” Jake said grimly.

  “Frankly, we expect him to. That’s all the more reason we'll be ready and waiting.” At the door, Vance paused. “How many weeks would you give him to make his move?”

  Jake thought about Meskell, about all the times he had tangled with him in the past. “Knowing Lenny, I’d say we have anywhere from two to four weeks.”

  “That was my estimate, too,” Vance replied with satisfaction. “You be careful.”

  As he left, Jake picked up the scrap of paper. He crumpled it in his fist and stood so swiftly his chair toppled over with a crash. He wanted to put his fist through the table to vent his anger. Instead, he gathered up his papers and headed for his desk, leaving the chair where it had fallen behind him.

 

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