Whirlwind

by Rick Mofina

  Grogan and Quinn listened, interrupting occasionally to ask a question or clarify an aspect. When they’d ended the interview, they took down all Kate’s contact numbers then asked her to accompany them to their office to give a formal statement and provide her fingerprints for elimination prints for the evidence techs.

  “Aren’t you going to chase this down to this DOA person’s place at Vickson Farm in Ellamont, Afanton, Aneffton or wherever it is?” Kate asked.

  “We’ve already taken action with the DEA, based on what you’d told the deputy,” Grogan said.

  “What action?”

  Quinn and Grogan exchanged a look, a not so subtle question of how much to reveal. A moment passed before Grogan continued.

  “DOA is the street name of a drug dealer in Lubbock. He’s got an affiliate near Lubbock. We’re working with locals there now, preparing to move on the residence.”

  “Are you saying drug dealers have the baby?” Kate said. “That that’s what the victim in there was trying to tell me?”

  “We’re saying we have grave concerns and we’re acting on them.”

  “I’m not staying here. I’m following my story.”

  “Not so fast. We need you to give us a formal statement.”

  “You’ll get it later.” Kate’s phone rang and she answered it, annoying Grogan, who’d blocked her departure as Kate focused on her call.

  “Kate, it’s Chuck. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m okay.”

  “Tommy told us what happened, that you followed a tip to Fate and he heard everything on the police scanners. It’s breaking on TV right now. The Fate murders may be linked to another across the Metroplex.”

  “Another murder? The FBI never said anything about that.”

  Grogan’s patience was running thin.

  “At a garage,” Chuck said. “A male, very grisly, apparently. Details are still sketchy. We’ve sent people there. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I want to follow the story.”

  “I’m responsible for your safety, Kate. Please come back to the bureau ASAP. You can help with the story here.”

  Kate felt Grogan’s glare burning through her, but continued: “I want to follow this story,” she said firmly. Then she spotted Mandy Lee among the newspeople collecting at one end of the property. “Chuck, who sent Mandy down here?”

  “Dorothea. Now, Kate, I need you to come back to the bureau.”

  Looking at the growing crowd, it dawned on Kate how the story was emerging, giving rise to another concern. “I’ve gotta go.” She hung up and turned full bore on Grogan. “Why didn’t you tell me about the other murder linked to this?”

  “The Dallas PD caught that one. The victim may be the owner of this residence.”

  “So now it’s a triple homicide tied to the baby’s case? I gotta go.” Kate began making a call on her phone, but before she could complete it Grogan covered her phone with his hand, stopping her.

  “Hey!” Kate said.

  “You’re not calling anybody.”

  “Excuse me! Please get your hand off of my phone!”

  “You’re a witness in a crime scene.”

  “I’m calling my daughter to let her know I’m not hurt.”

  “We’d prefer you didn’t do that now, Ms. Page, and request you accompany us.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I know my rights. I’ve cooperated. I’ve told you all I know and I’ve answered your questions. I will come to your office later.”

  “Kate.” Grogan’s face was taut. “We advise you to come with us.”

  “Or what? Are you going to arrest me? Threaten to call me a suspect? I cover crime, Agent Grogan. I know how this works.”

  “Do you? Then you know your car’s been seized to be processed as part of the crime scene.”

  A tense moment passed.

  “I’m going to call my daughter.” Kate turned from the agents then pressed the number for Heather. Grogan and Quinn left her alone. As the line rang, Kate considered the time, knowing that Grace would be in school.

  “Hello?”

  “Heather, it’s Kate.”

  “Hey there, how’s it going?”

  “A little rough right now. Listen, I don’t have much time. I just came across a bad murder scene—”

  “Oh my God!”

  “When I found it, someone came up behind me and tied me up—”

  “What? Tied you up? You’re scaring me!”

  “No, I’m okay. I’m fine. But because I might be in some of the news pictures, it’s Grace I’m worried about. She might hear about it, or things might get confused. I want her to know that I’m okay, that her mother’s not hurt. I’m with police... I’m okay.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Could you call her school? They have my cell number. Could you get them to call me when Grace’s next class ends? Just say her mom wants to talk to her. Ask them to put Grace on so she can hear my voice and know I’m fine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, thank you. I have to go.”

  “Please, Kate, be careful.”

  Kate hung up, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and briefly imagined Heather calling Grace’s school. Kate pictured the message being dispatched to Grace’s teacher. Kate then saw Grace walking down the hall to the office and...at that moment, standing alone amid the double homicide, Kate nearly lost it as she ached to be home in Ohio holding her daughter.

  At the far end of the property across the street, Kate saw a white SUV parked alongside the growing number of vehicles that had converged on the address. Jenna Cooper rushed from it along with her husband. They went to the nearest deputy.

  No one among the press pack had noticed them so far.

  Using police vehicles to shield her, Kate hurried over to the area. Catching Jenna’s attention, Kate led her and Blake out of view behind some shrubbery.

  “What happened?” Jenna’s eyes bulged with fear. “They won’t tell us!”

  “I followed a tip, and it looks like they were here with Caleb.”

  “The news said homicides. Was Caleb—was he—” Jenna’s hands were cupped to her face.

  Kate shook her head. “No. We think they took him and fled to the Lubbock area.”

  “Let’s go now!” Blake grabbed Kate’s arm and with Jenna trotting beside them started for the SUV. “You’re going to tell us where to go.”

  Kate pulled her arm free, stopped and stood her ground. “I’ve gotta think about this.”

  She shot a look back at Grogan and the FBI agents, who needed her to stay in Dallas. She glanced at her phone, replaying Chuck’s orders to return to the bureau. Then she looked at Jenna and Blake, waiting for her to make a decision.

  What’s the right thing to do? Who needs me most right now?

  She found the answer in the anguish that filled Jenna’s and Blake’s eyes.

  “Okay,” Kate said. “Let’s go. I’ll help you.”

  They got into the SUV.

  Blake climbed behind the wheel and the engine roared.

  As they pulled away Kate glanced behind her.

  She saw Mandy Lee walking in their direction but getting smaller in the rising cloud of dust.

  59

  Near Abilene, Texas

  Somewhere near Abilene, Remy searched the horizon.

  Now we’re killers on the run. But it was self-defense—it was.

  More than two hours had passed since Remy and Mason had taken the baby and fled Dallas. Remy’s heart was still hammering and her head was still throbbing as she grappled with the onset of a spell. They’d come within an inch of being murdered by those two assholes in Fate.

  I
t was either them or us.

  Remy took deep breaths and kept counting backward from one hundred. It helped. They were still a long way from sanctuary near Lubbock. Watching the hills and mesas rolling by, Remy knew it would all be over soon. She looked at the baby, asleep in his car seat, then at Mason. She was torn up about Mason, hating him for what he’d put them through but amazed at how he’d saved their lives.

  He’d recounted it all for her about a hundred miles ago.

  “When we first got to the house, Remy, and I saw Arlen, I knew that Lamont betrayed me.” Mason was still keyed up, adjusting and readjusting his hold on the wheel. “Arlen was trouble, so when I went back to the truck for money, I strapped on my ankle holster with my Smith & Wesson and never took it off, even slept with it. So when they did what they did, I was ready.”

  Mason had made his move when Brice had put his gun down to bind him with tape. Mason smashed his elbow into Arlen’s head, kicked Brice in the face, then in one smooth motion drew his holstered gun and shot them both three or four times, the—pop-popping so loud Remy thought it could be heard for miles.

  Mason then freed Remy, who comforted the baby. They were packing quickly when someone knocked at the door, which was unlocked. A woman had entered and started snooping when Mason tackled her from behind and taped her up before they fled.

  Who was she?

  As they drove from the Metroplex, Mason stuck to the speed limit and while Remy checked online for news, he monitored the radio for updates on the shootings.

  Remy’s anxiety dogged her mile after mile as she contended with her conflicting emotions about Mason. Could she trust him with her future? Or was being with him too great a risk?

  Now, after checking the time, Mason turned up the volume on the radio, tuned to one of the big Dallas stations. It was reporting that the FBI was looking for the suspects in the murders of two men in Fate.

  “It was them or us!” Mason shouted at the radio. “But no cop’s gonna believe that.” Mason was rubbing his lips, signaling his need for dope. The report went on by quoting unnamed sources saying that the man who owned the house in Fate where the murders took place was also murdered in another location. The Dallas police and FBI were investigating a link. The body of Lamont Harley Faulk was found in Ray’s Right Fix Auto Repair, a garage where he’d worked.

  “Did you hear that?” Mason shook his head, staring at the highway ahead. “What the hell’s going on? I don’t know who did it and I don’t know why, but I guess Lamont got what he deserved. That perv had his nose in everyone’s business.”

  Mason saw fear deepening in Remy’s face.

  “Don’t worry. This could help us,” he said.

  “How, Mason? How does this help us?”

  “It’ll complicate things for the cops, two different crime scenes, two different suspects.” He rubbed his lips.

  “But who was that woman who came to the house?”

  “Maybe a neighbor. I don’t know, but she wasn’t part of it and I couldn’t hurt her. With Arlen and Brice it was self-defense. No need to implicate us any further.”

  “Do you think she saw us?”

  “No. Don’t worry, I came up from behind. We’re going to get through this. We’re alive, we made it this far and we got a place to lay low, a good place. We got Hedda coming with the money. Then we’ll be done with the kid and we’ll be gone. I told you, I know a guy who’ll get us whole new identities. We’ll disappear, maybe to Belize, let things cool off. It’s going to work out, darlin’.”

  “I don’t know, Mason. With all that’s happened, I’m worried.”

  He took a long look at Remy in her blond wig, ball cap and sunglasses. His hand found its way to her left inner thigh and he began caressing her. “You know, you look good in that wig, darlin’.”

  Remy said nothing and they passed much of the next few hours saying little. Mason stopped for a cold beer to help deal with his craving. And at one point, Remy used the truck’s adapter and a portable coffee cup warmer to heat a bottle of formula for the baby. As the miles flowed by and they neared their destination, Mason consulted Garza’s directions, which he’d entered into his phone. Soon they left the interstate for farm roads and country routes, cutting through the South Plains. Driving deeper into the region, they saw fewer homes as the landscape grew more isolated.

  “We’re almost there. It’s straight through this village or hamlet or whatever,” Mason said as they passed a dilapidated barn and a decaying school that looked like a ghost from the Dust Bowl days. Other aging buildings were sprinkled on either side of the empty road. Not much in the way of people. They came to L. T. Smith’s Store and Gas. It was in a single-story building with two ancient gas pumps out front.

  “We’ll stop here,” he said. “You go in and get some groceries, enough for a couple days. I’ll stay in the truck with the baby.”

  “I don’t want to leave the baby. I’ll take him,” Remy said.

  “No. Think of the news reports—you might draw suspicion.”

  “You go, then.”

  “No, you go. You know what things to get for the kid.”

  Remy said nothing but when she opened her door, Mason added, “And get me a Cherry Coke and something for my headache.”

  Remy got out of the air-conditioned pickup truck and felt the full force of ninety-nine degrees of Texas heat. A cat napping in the shade of the store’s front porch opened a lazy eye to greet her as she entered.

  A man in his sixties wearing a T-shirt and jeans looked up from his crossword puzzle at the counter.

  “Hey.” He smiled.

  “Hey.” Remy smiled back and browsed the shelves. “Just got to pick up a few things.”

  “Let me know if I can help. Where’re y’all coming from?”

  “San Antonio.”

  Remy went to the cooler for cold cuts and soda, putting things on the counter before she got bread, peanut butter, bottled water and other items.

  “I’ll get you a box.” The man went to a back room.

  As Remy continued browsing, she glanced at Mason in the pickup. A strange feeling shot through her. It arose from seeing him kill Arlen and Brice. Somehow it drove home the point that there was a lot more going on with Mason than she ever realized.

  I really don’t know him.

  “This should work.” The man returned with a cardboard box. “Find everything you need?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Remy reached into her bag for cash.

  “Where y’all headed?” the man asked as he rang up her food and gave her change.

  “That way.” Remy pointed to the right, the way the truck was facing.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you were going the other way and through the crossroads.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s just— Well, no, it’s not my business.”

  “No, I don’t mind, why?”

  “Miss, there’s nothing really down that way. The road goes for maybe a mile and a bit then it dead-ends. There’s a lot of land and the old Dixon Ranch, but ain’t anyone livin’ out there. Some fellas go hunting down that way every now and then. Are you going to have a picnic or something?”

  Remy thought on that before smiling. “We’re just exploring the countryside.”

  “Well, you take care now. We might see some rain.” He scanned the sky. “Want me to put your box in your truck for you?”

  “No.” Remy wrapped her arms around it. “I can manage. Thanks.”

  After putting the groceries in the bed of the truck, Remy climbed into the cab and passed Mason a sweating can of cherry cola. She opened one for herself, touching the cold can to her forehead.

  They continued driving. Remy said nothing to Mason about the clerk’s comments as she wrestled
with her growing unease in silence.

  What’s really going on with him?

  Or is it me? Are the fear, stress and exhaustion making me paranoid?

  They’d left the paved road for a winding dirt road. As gravel popcorned against the pickup’s undercarriage, Remy took in the empty scrubland, the rolling grass, scattered brush and the occasional stand of trees.

  Where’s he taking us?

  As they came out of a small valley, she saw the cabin sheltered by cottonwoods. She observed no signs of life as Mason pulled the truck around the back and shut off the motor.

  Will we be safe here?

  Remy unbuckled Caleb.

  As she took him in her arms and felt his tender cheek against hers, a huge emotional storm erupted in her heart.

  I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can give you up.

  60

  Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex, Texas

  From their desks in the FBI’s Dallas Division on Justice Way, Agents Grogan and Quinn could see the Stemmons Freeway.

  Cars passed by like time ticking down on the case, Grogan thought, as he worked at his terminal while Quinn worked the phone. Grogan clicked on the sketches of their suspects, the man and woman.

  We’re gaining on you.

  Waves of information were rolling in on the double in Fate. Pieces were coming together fast. The victims were tentatively identified as Arlen and Brice Gribbley of Mesquite, Texas. They were brothers. Arlen had a criminal record. The motel towel found in the Fate residence was being analyzed. The details Kate Page had provided at the scene were good: the information from the dying man, naming DOA as a link near Lubbock, was a solid lead.

  Page had also reported hearing a baby.

  Grogan and Quinn interviewed the neighbor Hazel Hill for her account of seeing a woman and a baby, stressing that the woman had short dark hair under a wig. Rockwall County’s canvass of the neighborhood had yielded reports of muffled sounds of firecrackers, then a Ford pickup racing down Briscoe Street—that description fit with the vehicle description the manager of the Tumbleweed motel had given on the couple with a baby who’d stayed in Unit 21.