The Sound of Echoes

by Eric Bernt

  Outside the hotel, the two private detectives jumped into Guthrie’s Dodge Hellcat, which he’d recently acquired from a client who wouldn’t be needing it for the next three to five years. Among the unique features of this vehicle was its dual-key fob system: a black key and a red key. The black key limited the output of the engine to a maximum of 500 horsepower, while the red key unleashed the full potential of the engine, all 707 horsepower.

  Guthrie inserted the red key into the ignition and started up the engine. It sounded angry, snarling like a mechanical dragon. He squealed out of the parking space in front of the Red Roof Inn and punched the accelerator. Their heads were thrown back against the headrests as the tires squealed, leaving smoke and rubber behind. Nance grabbed on to whatever he could and pressed his boots against the floor. “I have got to get me one of these!”

  CHAPTER 77

  KELMAN NURSING AND REHAB CENTER

  ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

  June 2, 10:26 a.m.

  Mr. Elliott was enjoying the overture to Beethoven’s only opera, Fidelio (op. 72), broadcast over his favorite radio station as he pulled into the parking lot of the Kelman Nursing and Rehab Center. He happened to park next to Caitlin’s Subaru, which had been there since the day before. There was an open space next to it—the one previously occupied by her father’s Olds Cutlass—and Mr. Elliott decided to take it.

  There he sat for a moment, finding it amusing that he was listening to an opera about a heroic wife who disguises herself as a guard to rescue her husband from certain death in a political prison while he was, in fact, about to pretend to be a long-lost nephew of a man he would soon be torturing to death.

  Of all the many victims he’d subjected to such treatment, none had ever been geriatric, much less mentally incapacitated. Seemed like a waste of his rather well-honed talents. Then again, this upcoming performance had little to do with its subject and more to do with its intended audience. This show was meant for one person and one person only. And it would go on for as long as it needed to.

  Mr. Elliott intended to take every imaginable precaution to make certain he did not kill the old man quickly. Because he needed Lawrence alive if he was going to flush out his desired rabbit from what was certainly a well-fortified hole. He needed the old man screaming and pleading and begging incoherently. It could not stop until she arrived, when he would begin doing the same things to her.

  Only worse.

  CHAPTER 78

  INTERSTATE I-95 SOUTH

  APPROACHING BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

  June 2, 10:27 a.m.

  Butler was nearing the home of the Ravens at eighty miles per hour when his burner phone rang. The number was Lolo’s. Skylar quickly answered the phone, pressing the speaker button. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is okay,” Eddie answered. She was surprised to hear his voice through the phone and not Lolo’s. He continued, “Skylar, I recognize your voice. It’s not as pleasant as it sounds in person, but I can tell that it’s you.”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “This is Eddie.”

  “Yes, I know it’s you. I recognize your voice, just like you recognize mine.”

  “This is the first phone call I have ever made.”

  “Well, I’m honored that you chose to call us.”

  “I don’t know anyone else’s phone number.”

  “Hello, Eddie,” Butler chimed in.

  “Hello, Detective.” There was a brief pause. Neither seemed to know what to say next.

  Butler finally asked, “You’re being a gentleman, aren’t you?”

  Eddie sounded confused by the question. “How do I know if I’m not being a gentleman?”

  “Ask Lolo. She’ll tell you.”

  “Detective McHenry wants me to ask you if I am being a gentleman.”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely a gentleman. Definitely,” replied Lolo. “Because I know. There were boys in my school. They were not gentlemen. Some of the boys were mean and said bad words. Made me do things. Eddie is nothing like them. No, not at all. He is a true gentleman.”

  Eddie took a moment to process what he had just heard. “She said yes.”

  “That’s a good thing, young man,” Butler replied. “I better not hear otherwise.”

  “Why would you hear otherwise?” Eddie asked.

  “Tell the detective not to worry. I will post for all my followers what a gentleman you are being,” Lolo said.

  Concern immediately ripped across Butler’s face. “Tell her not to do that!”

  His tone clearly scared Lolo. “Why-why not?”

  “Eddie, put her on the phone.”

  “He wants to talk with you.” Eddie handed the phone to Lolo.

  “Are you-you angry, Detective? With me?” she asked apprehensively.

  “Listen to me very carefully. Do not post anything about Eddie, or Skylar, or me on social media or anywhere else. Is that clear?”

  It took Lolo a moment to respond. “Please don’t be mad.”

  Skylar jumped in, using a more restrained tone. “Lolo, did you already post something?”

  She answered reluctantly, “Only-only about the breakfasts I made this morning. You liked them. Sixes, remember? That-that is all I posted. Nothing else, I promise.”

  “Did you include our names?”

  Lolo paused to remember. “Well-well, you are visitors. We don’t get many, you know. Not many. It’s kind of a big deal.”

  Butler answered abruptly. “Both of you listen to me. You need to get out of there. Right now.” He pulled onto the dirt median, where he slammed on the brakes and cranked a U-turn in a cloud of dust.

  CHAPTER 79

  DAVID’S PLACE

  WOODSDALE, MARYLAND

  June 2, 10:29 a.m.

  Sitting next to each other on the bed, Eddie and Lolo listened as tires SCREECHING and cars HONKING could be heard through the phone. Lolo reacted with serious concern. “Uh-oh. Tires screeching is not a good sound. Never good. Bad-bad.”

  Eddie commented, “That is what it sounded like when I was in the back of the van yesterday, just before there were gunshots and we were in an accident. There was lots of screeching and honking and metal scraping and other shrill sounds that hurt my ears. I did not like the gunshots, either. But I don’t remember anything more because I became unconscious when we crashed. Did you also get into an accident?”

  Inside the Bronco, Skylar could not respond. She was too busy being thrown hard into the passenger-side door as Butler swerved directly in front of several oncoming cars in the fast lane. “Look out!”

  Lolo started to panic. “Are-are you okay? This is bad. Very bad. Are you okay? Say something. Please, say something!”

  “We’re fine,” Skylar managed to breathlessly reply through gritted teeth.

  Eddie made his BUZZER sound. “Not true. Definitely not. Not true at all.”

  Skylar attempted to gather herself. “We’re okay. We did not get in an accident. Butler just had to make a sharp turn, and it scared me a little.”

  “True,” Eddie said.

  On the interstate, the passing motorists HONKED loudly as they veered around Butler and Skylar, screaming at the top of their lungs through their windows. The number of profanities far outweighed the number of words more commonly used in polite company.

  Eddie counted them. “Why are so many people yelling bad words at you?”

  Butler punched the accelerator, rapidly catching up with the flow of traffic heading north. “That’s how people say hi in Baltimore.”

  Lolo imitated Eddie’s BUZZER sound. “That is not true, Detective. My family lives in Baltimore, and that is not how people say hi.”

  Skylar turned to Butler. “You drive. I’ll talk. Deal?” He nodded.

  Eddie returned to a previous topic. “Butler, when you said, ‘Both of you listen to me. You need to get out of there. Right now,’ where did you mean we should go?”

  Skylar answered with as much restraint as she could must
er. “Butler and I think you and Lolo would be better off if you moved to a different location.”

  “I have seen most of the rooms here, and they’re all pretty much the same,” Lolo replied. “Of course, each room has different pictures on the walls. Some have drawings, because that’s one of the activities we do every week. Make drawings with crayons or sometimes with paint. I like paint better than crayons because you get to use brushes. I like yellow paint the most.”

  Eddie said, “I like yellow paint, too.”

  Lolo responded. “You do?”

  “But I don’t like purple.”

  Butler held up his hand and moved his finger in rapid circles, signaling for Skylar to get on with it. “Eddie, do you remember the game of tag we played in New York City?”

  “Yes, I do remember,” he replied. “I did not like that game. Chess is more fun.”

  “You played tag in New York City?” Lolo said. “I haven’t been there since I was a little girl, but I never got to play any games there.”

  “It was much too loud. New York City hurt my ears.”

  “I don’t know how to play chess,” Lolo added.

  “I could teach you.”

  “You could?” Lolo sounded very excited by this prospect.

  Skylar grew frustrated. “Eddie, you don’t have time for that. Right now, you both need to leave that facility.”

  Lolo answered matter-of-factly. “Oh, that is not possible. I cannot leave the building. Dr. Davenport said so.”

  “Lolo, I am a doctor and I am telling you it’s okay.”

  “But you are not my doctor. You are Eddie’s. My doctor is Dr. Davenport.”

  Skylar struggled to remain calm. “Eddie, there are men coming there right now to play tag with you.”

  “Please tell them to go away. I don’t want to play tag.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t. And even if I could, they wouldn’t listen. Which is why you both need to leave right this instant.”

  Eddie asked, “Why are you afraid, Skylar?”

  “Because you’re going to have to play tag again whether you want to or not. Please don’t ask why. Just trust me. Can you do that?”

  Eddie paused for a moment to consider his options. “Yes, I can do that.”

  Butler spoke under his breath to Skylar. “First, they have to dump the phone. Have her toss it in the john.”

  Eddie heard every word. Of course he did. “Detective, what’s a john?”

  “A toilet.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” Butler shook his head, reminded how frustrating it could be to talk with Eddie.

  Lolo sounded concerned. “A toilet is not a good place for a phone. They do not belong there.”

  Skylar jumped in. “Eddie, Detective McHenry is an expert at playing tag. If he says Lolo should toss her phone in the toilet, that’s what she should do.”

  “No-no, I don’t want to. It won’t work anymore after-after that.” Lolo was on the verge of tears.

  Butler couldn’t help himself. “That’s the idea.”

  “My mother wouldn’t like it. No-no. Not one bit. I lost my phone once. She became angry. Very angry. Yelled at me. Said I don’t deserve one. I don’t like being yelled at. Scary. I do deserve one. A phone.”

  Skylar tried a different tactic. “Lolo, if I asked you to trust me, do you think you could do that?”

  “I am sorry, Skylar. You are very nice. You are. But I need to know you better. Before I can trust. Because that is what trust is.”

  Eddie asked Lolo, “Do you trust me?”

  She paused briefly. “Yes, I think so. I am your number two angel. You told me. Nice. I trust you.”

  “I trust Skylar. I trust her more than anyone I have ever known. If you cannot trust her, you can trust me to do what she says.”

  Lolo seemed torn. “But-but phones don’t belong in toilets. No, they don’t.”

  Skylar turned to Butler, silently asking for an explanation. He gave it a shot, knowing that Eddie and Lolo could hear him. “If they have her number, they will use her phone to track them. It’ll lead very bad people directly to them. And if they get ahold of that phone, they will use it to find this number and track us. Skylar, you will be in danger.”

  Eddie heard every word. “If they know where we are, we will lose the game.”

  “Yes, we will,” replied Skylar. “And we can’t let that happen.”

  “I understand now,” Eddie said, nodding. He turned to Lolo but was unable to look her in the eyes. “Sometimes Skylar asks me to do things that I don’t understand, but I do them because I trust her. If she says you should put your phone in the toilet, which is sometimes called a john, I think you should do it.”

  “Skylar is not my doctor. Dr. Davenport. He’s my doctor.”

  He looked her briefly in the eyes. “I am asking you to trust me. Can you do that?”

  Lolo hesitated, then reluctantly handed him the phone. “I can’t. You do it.”

  “Thank you.” Eddie stood up as he accepted the phone.

  Butler quickly added, “Eddie, after you get rid of the phone, find a good place to hide until we can get there.”

  Lolo said, “I know many hiding places. Yes, many good ones.”

  “Great. Just pick one and stay there.”

  “How do I know which one I should pick?”

  “Which one is the best?” Skylar said.

  “I would say the best one is behind the empty milk crates inside the old freezer in the kitchen. It doesn’t work, but most people don’t know that.”

  Butler said, “Great. That sounds perfect. Get there as fast as you can.”

  Eddie listened. “I can hear that you are driving very fast. It is not safe to drive in excess of the posted speed limit.”

  Butler ignored him. “Eddie, when you go into the bathroom, don’t put the phone in the toilet bowl. The people you are playing tag with might find it there if it doesn’t go all the way down the drain. That would be bad. Lift the porcelain top of the tank where the water is stored and drop it in that water. Then put the top back on.”

  Eddie walked into the bathroom and paused. He closed his eyes and rotated his head from side to side, making sure he felt comfortable with the acoustics. He heard water dripping from the faucet, and Lolo breathing in the next room. There was muffled vehicle noise from cars passing the facility, but nothing unduly disturbing.

  He nodded and then proceeded. Following Butler’s instructions, he lifted the lid of the toilet tank, then spoke one last time into the phone. “You are very good at this game, Detective. I don’t know all the rules yet, but I can tell you are, because this is one place I would never think to look for a phone. Goodbye.” And with that, Eddie dropped the phone into the toilet’s water tank and replaced the lid. The phone instantly shorted out and ceased to function.

  A moment later, four tires could be heard screeching to a stop not more than twenty yards outside the window.

  CHAPTER 80

  FRONT ENTRANCE

  DAVID’S PLACE

  June 2, 10:33 a.m.

  Smoke wafted around the Hellcat’s tires as Guthrie and Nance jumped out of the vehicle and raced toward the entrance. The skid marks behind the vehicle were eighteen feet long. They rushed into the lobby, where no one was present to greet them. The receptionist’s desk was empty aside from a small, well-worn bell, discolored from use. “Hello?” Guthrie rang it repeatedly with increasing frustration. “Hello?!”

  Nance glanced at Google Maps on his phone, where he’d been tracking the GPS signal coming from the phone of the party they were searching for. Dumb shits. Don’t they know that cell phones are the single easiest way to track someone? Apparently they did, because the signal then disappeared. “Just lost the signal.”

  Guthrie scanned out the windows to make sure they weren’t missing anything. “Means they know we’re here.” He continued ringing the bell.

  “Wonder how that happened?”
Nance remarked sarcastically, glancing out the windows at the skid marks behind their car.

  The older of the two orderlies, Roberto, appeared from around a corner, limping toward them. “Be right there. I’m moving as fast as my legs will carry me.” By the time he reached Team Five, he was breathing heavily. “Sorry . . . about that . . . How . . . may I . . . help you?”

  Guthrie and Nance presented a new ID, this time from the Department of Homeland Security. Roberto’s eyes bulged with concern. Guthrie took the lead. “We’re with Homeland Security. We have reason to believe four federal fugitives may have taken refuge on these premises.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Roberto responded. “Here? Are they dangerous? Why would they be here?”

  “No idea,” replied Nance. “There’s no explaining the minds of criminals.”

  “Are we in danger? What did they do?”

  “It’s a matter of national security. We’re not at liberty to discuss the situation. But for the personal safety of you and the rest of the staff, we need to conduct an immediate search of the facility.”

  Roberto studied them closely, as if suddenly beginning to doubt their legitimacy. “You guys got a search warrant or something?”

  “Matters of national security don’t require one. Step back.”

  Roberto did so, raising his hands in surrender. “If you say so.” The two men charged down the hall toward the patient rooms, methodically entering each one with well-rehearsed precision. One would knock, and the other would burst through the door without waiting for any type of response. Some of the patients gasped, others cried, but none put up any kind of resistance.

  Looking on, Roberto smiled. He had seen Lolo and Eddie head toward the kitchen, and with all the time she spent in there, Roberto figured she probably knew a good hiding place or two. He was rooting for them. Not merely because they were clearly the dogs in this hunt, or even because of the two payments he had already received from the woman he knew only as Eleanor.

  His rooting had increased due to the call he had just received from her, completed only moments before these men claiming to be agents had arrived. She had correctly predicted what they would say and had told him exactly how he should respond. She then asked if he had any friends or family members who might be available to make some quick cash. He told her that as a matter of fact, he did.