On a Knife's Edge (6 page)

Chapter Five

LYNCH
MARCHED ACROSS
the lower exercise yard, Officer Morgan right at his
elbow.

Nearby convicts paused in their workout routines to stare.
The weight of their gazes pricked Lynch’s skin. He focused on placing one foot
in front of the other to keep from tripping. He still couldn’t fathom he was
actually being released.

Since the visit from Jarvis and Newman three days ago, Lynch
half expected to get shanked in the shower. He definitely didn’t expect to be
making this walk. The only way he figured he’d leave this place would be feet
first.

In the control room, the checkout procedure passed in a
blur. He stood where told and signed on dotted lines. Garbled words filled his
ears. Morgan ushered him through a set of mechanical doors, and Lynch found
himself in the building’s lobby.

He blinked at the sunshine streaming through the glass of
the barless windows. This sunlight seemed different than what it had been just
moments ago in the yard. This seemed brighter. Cleaner. Freer.

Morgan pulled open the front door and waited for Lynch to
step over the sill.

Seventy feet of dirt lay before Lynch. No Man’s Land. He
never thought he’d live to see it from this angle.

“Let’s go, Callan,” Morgan prodded. “Up to the red line.”

The red line was at the base of Tower One, and where Lynch
stopped. Morgan handed the documents to the tower officer who verified
everything one last time.

On the other side of the wire mesh fence, Jarvis and Newman
loitered next to a sedan. Newman sported a gray polo shirt and black pants
while Jarvis wore a light-colored blouse and khaki slacks with her hair down.
Both agents wore sunglasses, but stared in his direction.

Lynch kept his eyes straight, his face devoid of expression.
Sweat trickled down his back and beaded on his upper lip. Finally, the immense
steel gate rumbled open.

Commanding his legs to move forward, soon the fifteen-foot
tall, electrified fence stood behind Lynch. Stars clouded his vision. He hadn’t
realized he’d been holding his breath—probably since he exited his cell.

He inhaled slowly, savoring his first taste of
non-incarcerated air in seven long years.

Free
.

The word reverberated through Lynch’s head. He was free.

Or was he? The reason behind his release crashed down on
him. He had to inform on the Streeters. His crew. His brothers. His gut soured
at that thought.

It’s like the old saying went…freedom was never free. Seemed
like he’d substituted one prison for another—minus the bars.

A car door opened. “Come on,” Jarvis said. “We’ve got a long
drive ahead of us.”

Lynch grasped the backseat passenger handle and slid into
the upholstered seat. A fake pine scent itched his nose. He buckled his
seatbelt. Newman sat in front of him with Jarvis behind the wheel.

Newman twisted around to look at him, two flip-style phones
in his hand, one black and the other silver. The agent held out the silver.
“This is a burner and it doesn’t leave your person. It’s got GPS so we’ll have
a fix on you at all times.”

Lynch took it. “GPS? As in military tracking shit?”

Newman’s mouth kicked up. “As in military tracking shit.”

With a shrug, Lynch wormed it into the back pocket of his
Levis.

“Jarvis and I also have burners,” Newman continued. “The
numbers are programmed into your phone. When we call, we’ll ask for Darren. If
it’s not safe to talk just say you’ve got the wrong number then get back to us
within thirty minutes. Do
not
, under
any
circumstances, call
anyone but Jarvis or myself on that phone.” He handed over the black one. “This
one’s for general use.”

Lynch rolled his eyes. “Two phones? Tracking me? Is this
cloak and dagger shit really necessary?” He turned the second phone over in his
hand.

“In a word, yes,” Jarvis replied. “I've been working to
bring down Blackwell and Fuentes’s human trafficking operation for over five
years. When Jerry—Agent Olsen—got into the Streeters, it looked like the
opening we’d been waiting for. But it wasn’t, and a good man paid the ultimate
price. This time I’m not leaving anything to chance, especially something
preventable like our burner phones getting traced.”

Lynch chuckled. “Secret spy shit. I suppose the entire FBI’s
on speed dial too, huh?”

Jarvis and Newman shared a look, but said nothing.

Distrust narrowed Lynch’s eyes. “What?”

Jarvis squirmed in her seat. “No one from the Reno office
knows anything about this op.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because the last time we got within striking distance of
Blackwell and Fuentes, we walked into a trap. We believe they have a person or
persons inside the bureau.”

Lynch sat forward. “So what happens if things go wrong?”

“They won’t,” Jarvis asserted. “They can’t.”

“But what if they
do
?” he persisted. “I've got my mom
to consider in all this.”

Newman torqued around in his seat again. “If you think
you’ve been compromised, or if there’s an emergency of any kind, text 411 to
either me or Jarvis.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll deal with the situation,” Jarvis replied.

“Deal with the situation?” Lynch repeated. “Christ. Why
didn’t you tell me this before?”

Newman arched an eyebrow. “Would it have made a difference?”

Lynch sat back and popped his tight neck muscles, directing
his gaze out the window. Flyer’s murder needed to be avenged, so no, it
wouldn’t have made any difference. “Just the three of us doing this thing?
Great.”

“I said no one local knows anything,” Jarvis said. “But both
Portland and Sacramento offices have been fully briefed and will be ready to
move at a moment’s notice should there be any trouble. We’ll just have
to…improvise until they arrive.”

Lynch shook his head. “Whatever. When will we get to
Stardust?”

“About six.”

Newman glanced at Lynch over his shoulder. “You should maybe
call your mom. She doesn’t know you’re out.”

Lynch snapped his gaze to the agent. “You didn’t tell her?”

“We couldn’t chance the news leaking,” Jarvis responded. “It
might have jeopardized your release. I did, however, call DA Murphy this
morning, but only because I’m required to notify the local authorities.”

“DA Murphy? You mean Adam Murphy? How long’s he been DA?”

“Since about six or seven years ago when Graham Dupree got
into a car accident and ended up paralyzed from the waist down.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” Newman replied. “Because he’s permanently
confined to a wheelchair, Dupree didn’t think he could continue as the district
attorney. Murphy stepped in and has been the DA ever since.”

“Huh...” Lynch again stared out the window, not sure how he
felt about Dupree being paralyzed. Maybe he should revel in the justice that
the man who prosecuted him and sent him to prison now had to deal with his own
personal imprisonment. One with wheels. But the best Lynch would muster was
mild interest.

“And speaking of Dupree…”

Lynch looked at Jarvis’s reflection in the rearview mirror.
Even wearing sunglasses, he felt her sharp gaze.

“I want to make something perfectly clear, Callan. Your job
is to find out who Blackwell is and help nail Fuentes.”

Her terse tone flared his anger. “I know my job.”

“See that you don’t forget it.” Her mouth stretched into a
thin line. “You are
not
to go rogue and try to exact revenge on Dupree.”

Lynch narrowed his eyes. “Relax, counselor. The former DA
has nothing to fear from me.”

“Or his family,” she added. “You’re to leave his family
alone as well.”

He redirected his stare out his window. “Or his family…not
that I remember Dupree having any family.”

“Well, he does. He married the sheriff’s sister.”

Lynch’s insides went cold and he whipped his gaze back
around. “Shasta?”

Jarvis’s posture snapped to attention. “You know her?”

Lynch schooled his expression. In the last seven years, he
learned not to react to news, whether good or bad. If an inmate discovered a
weakness, the consequences could be deadly. “I know
of
her. Everyone in
Stardust does. She’s an Albright after all.” He hitched his shoulder. “I’m just
surprised she married Dupree. That guy’s old enough to be her father.” He
flipped opened his phone. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to call my mom.”

 He punched in the memorized number, but his thoughts were
on Shasta.

She was married to Graham Dupree, a man in a wheelchair.

He didn’t begrudge her finding someone to share her life
with—and he certainly never expected her to wait for him because he was never
suppose to get out of prison—but Graham Dupree? That didn’t fit with the
carefree spirit he once knew.

The ringing of his mom’s phone yanked his thoughts from his
former girlfriend. It rang four times before she answered.

“Yeah?”

The prick of tears burned his eyes at the husky timbre of
her voice. Up to now, he hadn’t truly believed he’d ever see her again. He
coughed. “Ah…hi Mom.”

A long silence met his salutation.

“Lynch?”

Her voice sounded so tiny, he could barely hear it.

“Yeah…Ma. It’s me.”

“Oh my God…
Lynch?
”

Her joyful shriek echoed in his head as the corners of his
mouth lifted. “How ya doin’?”

“How am I doing?” Her tone changed dramatically. She no
longer sounded happy, but pissed. “What the fuck kind of question is that? Why
the hell are you calling me? Oh my God…are you in trouble? Hurt? What’s going
on?”

“It’s okay, Ma. Really. I’m…uh…out.”

“Out? What do you mean you’re out? Out of where?”

“Prison.”

Another pregnant pause. “
What
did you do?” she
hissed. “Did you escape? Are you on the run?”

He laughed. “No, Ma. I didn’t escape.”

“Then what the hell is going on?”

“It’s kinda a long story—”

“Good thing I've got lots of time for you to explain it,”
she shot back.

Lynch blew out a breath. “Okay, okay. I had a visit from a
lawyer this week—”

“Lawyer? What lawyer? Since when do you have a lawyer?”

He grinned wider at her rapid-fire questions. “Do you want
me to explain or not?”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Explain.”

“Anyway she came to see me and—”

“She? So this lawyer’s a woman?”

“Yeah.” He stared at Jarvis’s semi profile. “She’s a woman.”
The agent pursed her lips. “And she petitioned for a new trial. I’m out until
then.”

“Really, honey?”

He swallowed the sudden thickness in his throat. “Really.”

“Oh my God…” She wept into the phone.

Lynch stared hard at the back of Newman’s seat to keep from
breaking down too.

His mom sniffled loudly. “So you’re coming home?”

“Yeah. We should be pulling in about six.”

“Who’s driving you?”

“My, uh…” He coughed. “Lawyer.”

“You say you’ll be home around six?”

“Give or take.”

“Then I’m calling
everyone
. We’re gonna have one
hell-raising, welcome-home party for you!”

 “Ma, that’s not necessary—”

“The hell it’s not. My baby boy’s coming home. If that isn’t
cause for a celebration, I don’t know what is.” Paper rustled on the line. She
had to be making one of her famous lists. “Bring your lawyer, honey. I want to
thank the person responsible for getting you out.”

“I really don’t want—”

“You never should’ve been convicted.” Anger dripped from her
words. “Fucking small town with its fucking small-minded people. You were
innocent
.
Fucking bastards railroaded you.”

The conviction in her voice warmed his chest. “Thanks, Ma.”

“So, your lady lawyer. Is she pretty?”

His mom dragged out
pretty
so it sounded like two
words instead of one. Jarvis, pretty? No. Certainly good looking though. For a
fed. Lynch gazed out the passenger window to the looming hills bordering both
sides of the highway. “Guess some might think so.”

“And would you be one who thinks so?”

He shook his head with a subdued chuckle. Leave it to his
mom to tease him. The line suddenly crackled then went dead. “Hey, Ma…you
there? Hello?”

“Lynch? Honey? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, but I’m about to lose the signal so I guess I should
hang up.” He didn’t want to. He wanted to keep talking to her all the way to
Stardust just to hear her voice. Emotions pressed against his ribcage. God…he’d
missed her. “I’ll, uh, see you in a little while, okay?”

Another sob echoed in his ear. “Okay, honey. See you soon. I
love you, Lynch.”

“I love…” He cleared his throat. “Love you too, Mom.”

He disconnected the call then pressed his thumb and
forefinger to his eyes with a shaky breath.

“Hey.” Using the rearview mirror, Jarvis stared at him. “You
okay?”

Lynch straightened with a nod. “Fine. My mom’s having a
party tonight and wants you to come.”

“That’s nice of her,” Newman said, “but we’ll pass.”

A smile played at Lynch’s mouth. “A word to the wise, Agent
Newman. It’s not a good idea to tell my mother no. That has a tendency to piss
her off. And that’s something you really don’t want to do.” He settled into his
seat and closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

~*~

F
ive hours later, Lynch woke
with a king-sized kink in his neck. Despite the pain, he couldn’t remember
sleeping so well or so hard while sitting upright. Of course not having to keep
one eye open like he did in prison helped. He yawned loudly.

Newman glanced over his shoulder. “Good, you’re awake. We’re
coming to Stardust city limits.”

Lynch stared at the unfamiliar scenery surrounded by the
all-too-familiar Sierra Mountains. “Is this Route 314?”