The Vanishing of Olivia Beck

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The Vanishing of Olivia Beck Page 15

by Sara L Foust


  Annalise sighed. Snapping at Olivia, and blaming her for pretty much every bad thing that had ever happened, would do no good. “What was your plan anyway?”

  “Step one, disappear and look like a lost hiker.”

  “You did that marvelously well.”

  Olivia chuckled. “Thanks. Step two, meet Milt at the restaurant for my new identity. Second one, mind you.”

  “And? How did that go?”

  “I changed the plan before step two.”

  “Why?”

  She glanced out the side window. “Fear, I guess. If no one, not even Milt, knew for sure I was still alive, I thought I could disappear easier. And then if the Juarez Cartel put two and two together and figured out Milt’s relationship to me, he wouldn’t have information they could torture out of him.”

  “Smart.”

  She snorted. “Clearly it’s worked so well.”

  Ouch. Olivia’s abrasive tone rubbed Annalise’s already flared temper.

  “Sorry.” She sighed. “Step three was to get on a Greyhound and get as far away as possible. I figured I’d find a way to get a new identity once I made it to Canada or Alaska or Russia.”

  “How did they find you?”

  “They always do, don’t they? It took ’em a lot of years this time, but when they want something, they get it.”

  “If Henry really is who you say, I’m sure the fact that Milt called him in didn’t help matters.”

  “Milt didn’t know. I didn’t either until they had me at the house, beating me senseless. Henry showed up. I only caught a glimpse of him, but I’m certain. More certain than I’ve been about anything in this case to date.”

  “I believe you.” Annalise glanced in the rear view, something she’d been doing every few seconds since they had left the hospital. Her breath caught in her throat. Headlights approached quickly. Too quickly. She pressed the pedal harder, and the needle climbed to eighty. The vehicle drew closer, riding up so closely its headlights disappeared from view.

  “What is it?” Olivia spun in her seat. “Is that him?”

  “I don’t know.” Annalise changed lanes and the car zipped by on the right. She sighed. “I guess not.”

  Olivia sighed too.

  “Why are we going to Memphis, Olivia? What do they want?”

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “No. But tell me anyway.”

  “I wasn’t just your partner back in Memphis. I was on special assignment. Under Milt’s co-direction, along with the Chief of Police. I helped monitor all the potential witnesses against the Juarez Cartel.”

  “You were a WITSEC handler?”

  “Yes. Not a very good one, apparently.” She lowered her voice. “I led them right to a young mother. I didn’t mean to. I needed to check in with her. We were trying to build a case against them. I visited, thought I was being so careful. Next day, she was dead.”

  “And her child?”

  A tear on Olivia’s cheek sparkled in the headlights shining through the windshield. “Yes.”

  Annalise drew a deep breath.

  “I went undercover immediately afterward. Milt hated it. Tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  “That’s when they caught you and tried to torture you?”

  “Yes. I escaped but just barely. Milt and I knew someone on the inside must be pulling the strings. We just could never figure out who. He helped me fake my death, and well, here we are now.”

  “The entire Juarez Cartel migrated to Knoxville just to find you?”

  Olivia nodded. “They knew it was a cover-up. Somehow. Milt heard rumors through informants for years after my disappearance. When he moved, they did too. It was foolish of us to think we could be near one another and they wouldn’t follow.”

  “Is someone still building a case?”

  “Milt has always been building a case. And will until the day he dies.”

  “Doesn’t that mean he’s in danger, with Henry in the same hospital as he is?”

  “Yes. I’m hoping Henry will take the bait and follow me, though.”

  “What is the bait?”

  “An email I sent to the department director in Memphis.”

  Annalise groaned. “When exactly did you send this?”

  “When we got on the interstate half an hour ago.”

  “And what did it say?”

  “That I am alive and coming back to retrieve the hard copy of the list.”

  “There’s a hard copy?”

  “I hid it before I ‘died’.”

  THE FIRST SENSATION Milt was aware of was the scratchiness of his throat. The next, the dull ache in his shoulder. The smells and sounds of the hospital came to life around him as he slowly awoke. Why did his eyelids feel so heavy? He managed to force them open to slits. Other than him and the machines, his room appeared empty. Hard to tell if anyone was on the other side of the blue curtain drawn to his right though.

  He tried to scooch up in the bed and immediately regretted the movement when searing pain ripped through his left side. Okay, no moving. Got it.

  “Hel-lo?” his whispery voice didn’t sound like his own. Okay, no talking. Got it.

  So, just lie here until someone arrives? What if they thought he was in a coma and never checked on him until the next shift? He needed a drink. Sooner than next shift. Whenever that may be.

  The button! There was always a button. He found the remote next to his right side and pressed all of the buttons with the palm of his hand. A few moments later the door cracked open.

  “Mr. Brooks.” A red-haired nurse smiled at him from the doorway. “You’re awake.”

  As the door swung wider and the nurse entered, he spotted a man in uniform stationed just outside. What in the world?

  “Let’s get you some ice chips, Mr. Brooks.”

  Captain. Captain Brooks. But she was giving him precious liquid for his desert-dry throat, so he could let it slip this time.

  She held a spoon to his lips, and he took it like a greedy child in summer with a grape popsicle. “Thank you,” he managed to croak out. After another bite of ice, he managed to actually swallow something. “Why . . . officer?”

  “Oh, another gentleman was here. Said you all may be in danger and arranged for police protection detail around the clock for your room.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  She pointed at the curtain. “You and Officer Leebow.”

  Milt whipped his head to the right and grimaced. “Open it?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, it’s against HIPAA policy.”

  He frowned. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s in a medically induced coma. Had a subdural hematoma.”

  “A what?”

  “Brain bleed. Doctors are keeping him sedated until they can evaluate the level of swelling on his brain.”

  “He’s my friend. Please?”

  She looked over her shoulder to the door. “Oh, all right. But don’t tell anyone it was me that opened it, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  Zach’s swollen face and bandaged head took Milt’s breath. The tubes and wires protruding from every angle weren’t pretty to look at either. “Are you sure he’s okay?”

  “It’s too soon to tell. Subdural hematomas are incredibly dangerous. If his brain swells, it could cause irreparable damage.”

  “Lie to me, why don’t you?”

  The nurse chuckled. “You strike me as the kind of man who likes truth.”

  Milt nodded. “Now, about the officer that was here. What’d he look like?”

  “Older gentleman, husky voice. Thin. Very serious eyes.”

  Henry. Milt should’ve known. Annalise probably called him. “Where is he?”

  “Don’t rightly know. Haven’t seen him since the cavalry outside your door arrived.”

  Probably chasing down leads. “And the young ladies we came with?”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen them.”

  Hopefully, safe with Henry.


  THE LIGHTS OF MEMPHIS greeted them with the light of dawn. “We’re here.”

  In the passenger seat, Olivia aroused from sleep and yawned.

  “Let’s make this quick.” Annalise’s heart pulled her back to Nashville. To the blonde-haired best friend she desperately needed to make sure was okay. She’d fled without even getting any kind of update. If she called to check, would it somehow tip Henry off?

  She cast a sidelong glance toward Olivia. Was she sure she was sure? How could Henry possibly be involved? This was Zach’s father, Milt’s friend.

  But how had he known where to find them?

  And would he find Olivia and her before they had a good plan?

  “Where to?”

  “The library.”

  How cliché. Annalise chuckled. “Novel idea.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes.

  “Sorry. I’m sleep deprived.”

  “Let’s go retrieve the thumb drive, and then go to the station. If your friend hasn’t found us before then.”

  Annalise groaned. “Lovely thought.”

  “He always is one step ahead.”

  “Isn’t that the idea this time?”

  “Yes, but it still freaks me out.”

  “You? You’re the toughest person I know.”

  Olivia laughed. “Yeah right. I’ve been running and hiding for all these years. Real tough.”

  “Tougher than me,” Annalise mumbled.

  “Seriously? I always looked up to you, Annalise. You cared about everyone, yet you always kept your head. You figured out stuff even the detectives couldn’t see.”

  She snorted.

  “I’m being honest. Why are you so hard on yourself now?”

  Because she’d ruined her marriage. Walked away from vows she made before God and her loved ones. Because she couldn’t fix Dave. And now she couldn’t fix herself. “I don’t even know what’s broken.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “You, my beautiful friend, have no control whatsoever. You know that right?”

  “I know it here.” She pointed to her head. “Having a hard time accepting it here.” She gestured to her heart.

  “Pull over.” Olivia pointed to an empty curb site.

  “What?”

  “Now. Pull over.”

  Annalise did as instructed and turned to her friend.

  “We need to pray.” Olivia took Annalise’s hand and bowed her head. “Lord, we know You are ultimately in control of our lives.”

  Annalise’s heart thumped to life.

  “We don’t always understand why challenges come, but if we keep our grip on it, our hands in the mix, You aren’t free to work. Help Annalise let go of the pain of losing her marriage, of the pain of wondering why it happened. Help her release the guilt and accept the fact that You love her, no matter what. Give her power over her fears.”

  Sudden tears streamed down Annalise’s cheeks. Insecurity. Anger. Guilt. It all stemmed from the fear, didn’t it? From the fear she wasn’t enough?

  “Protect us while we fight these demons that have plagued us for nearly a decade. Bring justice, Lord. Amen.”

  Annalise squeezed her hand. “Thank you.” Olivia’s words lifted weight from her heavy heart. For the first time in months, she took a breath that actually reached the recesses of her lungs. The first signs of relief washed over her.

  “Ready?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Olivia led Annalise to the small encyclopedia section of the Cornelia Crenshaw Public Library. She knelt and pulled the Z book from the shelf. Please let it still be here. She felt behind the shelf, where dust bunnies fifty years old tickled her fingertips. She bumped something hard and wrapped her fingers around it. Thank you!

  “Yeah?”

  Olivia could sense the unease in Annalise’s simple question. “Got it.”

  “What now?”

  “To the station to turn it over to the current handler.”

  “Isn’t he already privy to this information?”

  “He thinks he is.”

  Annalise wrinkled her brow. “I don’t understand.”

  Olivia grabbed her elbow. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way. It isn’t safe to sit still too long.”

  At the front exit of the miniscule library, Olivia paused and surveyed the cars in the lot and parked street side. Nothing too suspicious. Yet. She’d chosen this out-of-the-way, hole-in-the-wall place for its unpretentiousness. Apparently, it had worked. The drive had been safe for five years now. Too bad her family and friends weren’t.

  “I’m listening,” Annalise prompted as they walked toward her SUV.

  “Dad and I were the only ones who truly knew the identities of every witness. He and I suspected, early into the case, someone on the inside was a member of the Juarez Cartel, so when we had a man in late 2009 who claimed to have witnessed a murder, we hid him. Very, very well.”

  Annalise unlocked the doors and slid into the driver’s seat. “And if they get this, they find him.”

  Olivia slipped into her seat and shut the door. “Precisely.” She sighed. “I’ve already caused the death of one innocent person. I never want that on my conscience again.”

  “If you turn this information over, what will stop the Juarez Cartel from getting it and acting?”

  Olivia grinned. “Us.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Come on, friend. We are tough as nails. Let’s show ’em what we’re made of.” She didn’t feel an ounce of the bravado she portrayed. But what choice did she have?

  Annalise pulled out of the parking lot. Before she could merge into traffic, a truck slammed into the rear passenger door.

  “Hold on!”

  Olivia’s head bounced against the glass as their SUV slid sideways, the sound of metal crunching louder than an explosion. Hot blood trickled down the side of her face and onto her neck.

  Annalise punched the gas pedal and attempted to steer them clear of a second impact.

  The truck rammed them and kept pushing, driving them hard off the side of the road.

  The SUV bumped over the curb and rocketed into a tree, pinned by the still revving truck. Olivia heard her name being repeated over and over, felt a shake, but couldn’t seem to make her body respond. It seemed as though she were looking at everything through an aquarium, the water between her and Annalise’s face distorting the images and making them wavy. Nausea threatened to climb into her throat.

  “OLIVIA!” ANNALISE SHOOK her friend’s shoulder for the fourth or fifth time. Pain immobilized Annalise’s left arm and leg. She slowly rotated her head, wincing with each fractional movement. The pieces of her shattered window glittered in the brilliant springtime sunshine. The trunk of the tree rested ridiculously close to the side of her head. Where was the rest of her driver’s side door?

  For a moment, time stood still. The sounds of the impact—the deafening crack of her vehicle’s exterior body, the rumbling truck engine, the squeal of tires—filled her mind. Her own engine smoked, hissed, and steamed. Passersby were beginning to stop, to frantically dial 9-1-1 with their cell phones pressed to their heads.

  The truck slowly backed up, and a man approached. He reached through the window and grabbed Olivia’s ponytail, yanking her head backward. “Where is it?”

  Though Annalise’s blurred vision couldn’t delineate features in the too-bright sunshine, there was no mistaking the voice. Henry Leebow.

  “Olivia, tell me where it is. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

  Annalise snorted. “Already done enough of that, haven’t you?” It hurt to move her jaw. It hurt worse to realize Zach’s father was trying to kill them. And had probably done it multiple times before.

  Henry’s gaze remained fixed on Olivia, “Hello, Annalise. Hush, now. It’ll be over soon.”

  Over? Permanently? She had no doubt that was his intention. She slowly released her seatbelt and slid he
r weapon from its holster, the movements shielded by Olivia’s body sitting ten inches closer to her than she would’ve normally, before her vehicle was squashed like a discarded tissue.

  She would get one chance at this. One. Lord, help me. “It’s in her right pants pocket. Just take it and leave her alive. She doesn’t have a clue what’s happening right now.”

  “Yeah, right.” Henry chuckled. “Leave no witnesses has always been my motto.”

  “What about all these people?”

  Henry’s gaze jerked to the crowd forming nearby. His face paled.

  Annalise took the opportunity to lift her gun and train it on his chest. “You got sloppy. It took way too long, but you got in too big of a hurry.”

  “No matter.” He returned his gaze to Annalise and smiled. “You won’t shoot me. It would break my son’s heart to know the woman he loved murdered his father.” Henry made a move to reach for Olivia’s pocket.

  “Don’t do it.”

  “Listen, Annalise, either shoot me or stop pretending.” He dug into Olivia’s pocket, retrieved the thumb drive, and then pulled a knife from his belt. He brought it to Olivia’s throat.

  At the sight of the first drop of bright red blood, Annalise squeezed the trigger. The sound exploded inside her vehicle, adding to the ringing she already had from the wreck.

  Henry dropped instantly out of view.

  The dull thump made Annalise’s stomach turn. Tears sprang to her eyes. “You were wrong, Henry.” On so many levels.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Annalise’s and Olivia’s hospital stay felt interminably long. Each with concussions, multiple broken bones, and new Frankenstein stitches, they made quite the pair as they hobbled out of Baptist Memorial Hospital four days later. Annalise itched to get back to Nashville. To Zach and Milt. She needed to lay eyes on them to believe they were okay.

  Henry’s body would be left behind. Retrieved later should Zach decide to do so. How was she going to explain everything that happened?

  She’d updated Kirk, and he’d made sure the officers guarding the men were trustworthy. He’d also helped get Lorraine home and given updates to everyone waiting at home.

 

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