“Crystal.” Agent Carlson’s eyes were as wide as saucers as she responded. It was all she could manage to say, too stunned to engage Betty any further. Her hand shook slightly and she stuffed it into her pocket, hoping the tremor had gone unnoticed. She hadn’t been talked to like that since… well… ever.
“Now, baby,” Betty said, turning back toward Jules as though nothing had happened, “can I get you something?”
“I’m real thirsty, Ma, could you get me some water?” Jules asked, fighting a smile. She was brimming over with pride for her mother’s strength. She’d seen her mother fight countless battles like this before and win effortlessly. She certainly had a way with words.
“Lydia,” Betty said, smiling with her Southern charm. “I’m guessing you won’t be here when I get back, so you take care now.”
Agent Carlson nodded and half smiled back at Betty, feeling sheepishly small in this room of people who were probably all laughing inside at her expense. “Jules,” she said, regaining her ability to speak, “so you are, without any doubt, able to identify the man who took you as Roberto Lee Lawson, the Railway Killer. However you’re telling me he didn’t say anything to you?”
“Not a word,” Jules confirmed. “I’m really very tired, Agent Carlson,” she continued with true weariness in her voice. “I’d like some time with my friends and a chance to rest. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
Again at a loss for words, Agent Carlson nodded her head, put her pen back in her breast pocket, and quietly exited the room. The group remaining all looked at each other silently in disbelief over the uncharacteristically quiet Carlson. Then they quickly turned their attention to Jules.
“I’m so sorry,” Michael said, pulling the chair next to her bed and holding her hand. “I shouldn’t have let you go off like that.”
“It’s not your fault, Michael. We can talk about it after. Right now I have to tell you guys what Piper’s father said to me.” Everyone in the room was stunned. They had just heard Jules tell Carlson that no words had passed between her and the killer.
“Jules,” Bobby snapped, “you have to tell Carlson everything you know. She is in charge of the investigation, and she needs all the information possible to try to catch him. I know we don’t like her, but that’s not enough reason to obstruct the case.”
“Can you please get over yourself, Bobby?” It wasn’t a question, but a demand. Jules was completely exasperated by his high and mighty tone. “We get it, you’re a cop. Put the damn rule book away for five minutes and give me the benefit of the doubt here.” Part of Bobby was growing tired of hearing this, but the other part was wondering if maybe they were right about him. He sank his shoulders down and closed his mouth.
Piper, the only person in the room yet to talk, finally found her voice. “What did he say? How did he sound?”
“He sounded like a lunatic,” Jules admitted. “I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear, I just mean he sounded really manic. Like he’s about to go over the edge. He was upset that he couldn’t kill me. Their theory is right, he is here for you. He can’t deviate from whatever makes him kill, and he needs you dead to be able to kill again.”
“That cut on your leg, is it what I think it is?” Piper asked, unable to look away from the bandage.
“It’s the number twenty-five,” Jules said, trying unsuccessfully to keep all emotion out of her voice. She had held herself together the best she could in order to convey the horrific night’s events, but now that she was surrounded by those who loved her most, she was dangerously close to breaking down. “He was sending you a message. Once he kills you, he plans to hunt me down and… kill me,” she finished in a near whisper.
“He isn’t going to kill either of you,” Michael interjected firmly, protectively responding to the fear in both Jules’s voice and Piper’s eyes.
“Listen, none of that matters right now,” Jules continued, gathering her strength and resolve once again. “He went off on this rant about how she doesn’t want to catch him. That she is the one who brought him here. Those attacks on campus weren’t his doing. They were meant to be a road map here. I think Agent Carlson wanted him to find Piper, I think she wanted him to turn up in Edenville.”
Bobby shook his head, annoyed by the theory. “Agent Carlson has been with the FBI for years. There is no way she wants to see Piper killed or wants a serial killer to take out the one person stopping him from killing more people.”
“No,” Michael said, as the pieces began to fall into place in his head, “but she does want him caught. He’s been dormant for two years. Everyone knows the best way to catch a killer is to find evidence at crime scenes. That’s where they make their mistakes, where the break in the case normally comes from. When there are no crime scenes, the trail goes cold. I’m sure Carlson doesn’t want Piper killed, but I would believe that she’d use her for bait. She was pretty passive in her push for witness protection. If she’d really wanted to, she could have had Piper placed back into witness protection just from the original agreement they signed. She’d be legally justified in doing so. Perhaps she got tired of a cold trail and—”
“And what?” Bobby interjected, still skeptical that someone with that type of job could stoop so low. “Do you think she attacked two defenseless girls on campus just to draw him here? Do you think she leaked to the press that the surviving victim was here in Edenville? Are we really considering accusing her of that?”
“I’m not considering accusing her of anything,” Michael said defensively. “I’m suggesting that we work under the assumption that she did those things, and therefore we don’t trust her. Piper, if you were considering going back into witness protection, I don’t think you should. If Carlson is involved in any way it won’t matter where you go. If she knows where you are, you won’t be safe.”
Jules nodded her head in agreement and looked over at Bobby for some kind of read on his opinion as Michael continued to speak. “Bobby, I know you want to believe that it’s not possible for someone with a badge to have a hidden agenda, but look at what we went through with Rylie and the judge. These people are out there. They exist. We need to go off the grid for a little while, somewhere Carlson can’t track us and we can all take a few deep breaths and regroup. Do you have any idea where we could go?”
Bobby looked around the room at these people. They were constantly testing him and challenging his efforts to keep his past at bay, to right his own wrongs. He wanted to tell them all to butt out and let him do his job the way he was trained to do it. But he couldn’t deny agreeing that they needed to regroup, and he did know one place they could go and all be safe. He had a favor he could call in. And the one redeeming thought of leaving for a while was at least he’d be with Piper. She’d be forced to talk to him at some point. If they were ever going to make amends, the close quarters might help.
“I’ve got a place we can go. It’ll have plenty of security, and no one will be able to track us. I need to make a phone call. I’m sure you’ll be here at least overnight, Jules. We should plan on leaving sometime after dark tomorrow.” He paused and saw Michael squeezing Jules’s hand.
“Michael, I know you have work. We’ll be safe where we’re going. You’re off the hook if you need to hang back.”
“I’m coming.” He pulled Jules’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. Without taking his eyes off her he told Bobby, “Just make your phone call and let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Twelve
It had taken a little tactful strong arming, Betty’s specialty, to get Jules released from the hospital the next evening. They had quickly packed bags and loaded Michael’s car under the dark of night. They hadn’t had much time to sleep. They had taken turns, someone staying with Jules while the others went and prepared for the trip. Michael, much to Piper’s disappointment, had returned Bruno to his trainer. There was just no room for him on a road trip. Piper had grown surprisingly attached to the dog, and saying goodbye wasn’t easy. Bruno m
ade her feel safe, and his ability to wake her from her vivid nightmares had become something she depended on.
Bobby had tended to everything at Betty’s house and his own. He and Piper still hadn’t said much to each other. The fear of losing Jules had made their argument feel trivial at times, but then something would happen, someone would say something that would remind them they stood on opposite sides. Betty asked if Bobby had talked to Agent Carlson again, and Piper made a snarky remark about her being on his speed-dial. The tension fell and rose like the tide, and neither knew when it would settle or flare. It was like a wound, and every time it started to heal over, something would tear it open again.
Bobby and Michael decided they would drive through the night in shifts, leaving the rest of the group to drift in and out of uncomfortable sleep.
“So wait a minute, who is this guy we’re going to stay with?” Jules asked, trying to adjust her leg comfortably in the front seat of Michael’s car. She wasn’t excited about having an injury to her leg, but on a thirteen-hour road trip it did ensure her the front seat, and that was a plus.
Michael, who had volunteered for the first driving shift, looked in his rearview mirror at Bobby, suggesting he answer the complex question.
He opted for answering Jules’s question with a matter-of-fact approach. There wasn’t really a way to sugarcoat it, so he dove right in. “We’re going to stay with Christian Donovan.”
“Seriously? Isn’t he like a major criminal?” Jules asked, hoping this was some kind of a joke. Were they really running away from one crime-ridden family straight to another? Piper was less surprised by Bobby’s answer. She knew Bobby didn’t have a long list of people to ask for a favor like this and she’d figured there was a chance Christian was the person he’d be calling.
“He was a criminal. But remember we told you he had decided to turn over all the evidence he had in exchange for witness protection? Well, he was relocated to Illinois. We’re heading to the Midwest.” Bobby said this last sentence with forced enthusiasm as if he’d said, “We’re going to Disney World!” the way a quarterback might in post Super Bowl tradition. Seeing that his optimism was clearly wasted on these people, he returned to his normal voice. “He’s a complicated guy, but the information and evidence he provided helped tremendously. I think we can trust him.”
“So he’s a rat?” Jules asked, frowning at the vision in her head of a gold-chained bald informant like one might see in a movie.
“I highly recommend you don’t say that when we get there,” Michael interjected. Bobby agreed, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t sit well with him. Like I said, he’s complicated. He has an eight-year-old son. He wanted a better life for him than the one he had growing up. Christian didn’t exactly choose his lifestyle—it was kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. He was looking for an opportunity to get out, and we presented him with one. Because of that, he feels like he owes us his life. This is his way of paying off his debt.”
Jules still looked unconvinced, and turned to Michael, raising her eyebrows. “You really think we can trust him? You talk about him like you know him.” Michael couldn’t help but look sheepish. The truth was, he had been in contact with Christian since his relocation, and he did feel he’d gotten to know him reasonably well. At first, Christian had contacted Michael, hoping to stay abreast of how things were unfolding in Edenville following the takedown of Judge Lions. Michael knew maintaining communications with Christian was wrong, and, more than that, he knew Bobby wouldn’t approve, but he just couldn’t say no. He heard the desperation in Christian’s voice, the battle he was having with himself. Christian had done something some would see as heroic, others as betrayal, and it was clear his own mind danced between those two ideas. Keeping him informed of the prosecutions and retrials was the least Michael could do. When Bobby revealed the plan to drive to Illinois to stay with Christian, Michael had admitted to keeping in touch with the ex-criminal. As expected, his confession was met with Bobby’s wary, disappointed grimace, but the urgency of the situation at hand had trumped his frustration and saved Michael from a lecture.
In an attempt to avoid explaining all of this to the rest of the group, Michael asked a question he’d been putting off until they were on the road. This way whatever the answer was, Piper couldn’t back out. “And what about baby brother Sean, we’re not going to have to deal with him, are we?”
“He’s currently being treated in a rehab and counseling facility, just like Christian promised. He’s trying to get him some help,” Bobby said, almost apologetically to Piper. They had both tried to minimize the danger Piper had been in that night that Christian’s brother, Sean, had slipped a Rohypnol into her drink. She had been playing detective that night, but Sean had other plans in mind. If not for Michael, who knows what would have happened? It was a good thing Sean wouldn’t be around, because it would be nearly impossible for him not to have his ass kicked by any one of them.
“That’s quite the family,” Betty chimed in. “I knew their grandmother. When I was in my twenties I used to fill in at my aunt’s bridge club occasionally, and Mrs. Donavan frequently hosted. She used to tell stories about how her son was hell on wheels from the time he was ten years old. I’m amazed he was even able to raise those boys into adulthood at all. I’m not surprised they ended up on the wrong side of the law. I hope they do better in this new life. I recall there were a lot of unanswered questions around their parents’ death—the tragedy of them dying together like that, husband and wife murdered. I guess that’s what happens when you get mixed up in that world.”
“Boy, this should be fun,” Jules said, rolling her eyes at Michael. “So we’re going to be house guests of some felon.”
“It’s our best option right now, Jules. No one knows where he is, no one knows we have any ties to him, and he won’t be counting on witness protection to keep him safe. He’ll have his own security. Oh, that reminds me, his new name is Chris King. His son goes by little Chris.”
“They didn’t make them change their first names?” Piper asked, remembering how much she had initially despised her new name and how firm they had been that she had no choice in the matter.
“I asked him that, and he said they did give him a different name, Herman, I think. He said there was no way he was walking around the rest of his life with that name. So he went out and got fake IDs made with the name he wanted. He said he was trying to minimize the impact on his son. I’m sure they really love him over in witness protection.”
The drive to Joliet, Illinois from Edenville was a long one, made longer by frequent stops. Bobby and Michael both found themselves annoyed by the lack of coordination of the bladders in the car. They were sounding like overbearing parents, insisting the girls remaining in the car at least go try to use the bathroom, because they didn’t intend to stop again for another three hours.
For Piper, riding in Michael’s car meant she’d need to fight sleep, afraid of what might be waiting for her there. But inevitably she gave in to her need for rest, and just as she had feared, her memories were lurking there.
It was a visit. A knock on the door making waves in already turbulent water. One afternoon the proverbial stars aligned creating the absolute worst-case scenario. Some brave souls, Catholic priests, decided they’d bring their gospel to the projects. It was well-intentioned, but ultimately a misguided endeavor. The rap on the door was uncharacteristically upbeat for anything you’d hear in their world. In the projects you don’t tap, you bang on a door.
Her mother was out, working some minimum wage job that she’d inevitably get fired from. So the role of opening the door would fall on her. At the sight of the two young men with their crisp black shirts and white collars she froze. It was like watching oblivious animals marched to slaughter. Their wide smiles and meek demeanors were not comforting to Piper, but terrifying. She was afraid for them, not of them. Men like this, men of God as she had heard them called, didn’t belong in a place with so much hate.
<
br /> She didn’t greet them, she just let her surprised eyes ask the questions. Luckily this wasn’t the first apartment they’d been to in her building, so they were prepared for the shock. “Hello sweetheart,” one of the men started, handing her a pamphlet, which she reluctantly took. His Irish accent was as thick as honey. She’d never heard a real person speak like this before. He sounded like the leprechaun on that cereal commercial always looking for his lucky charms. It almost made the corner of her mouth curl into a smile, but she quickly reconsidered. “We’re here today to speak to you about Jesus Christ. Do you know who that is?”
She did. She’d heard of him. She knew a little bit about religion from what her father had occasionally rambled on about in drug-induced moments he considered “clarity.” He called it a sermon and it would either be about religion, politics, or a conspiracy theory he’d dreamt up. It was his version of a life lesson for her; the only problem was, none of it ever made sense.
Cutting Ties (Book 2) (Piper Anderson Series) Page 10
