Out of the Dark (25 page)

He switched on the television and then, out of habit, began surfing channels. Curiously, it was a crawl at the bottom of the CNN screen that captured his attention, rather than the lead story on a crisis in the mideast.

“Man and his nurse murdered in St. Louis hospital. Authorities suspect link to the return of business magnate Sam Cochrane’s kidnapped daughter.”

Otis’s mouth dropped open; then he jumped to his feet. Someone—probably that loser who had called—had blown it for everyone. All he’d had to do was lie low. But hell no. What he’d done was going to unload a closet full of skeletons for sure.

Suddenly the idea of a new face was less important than getting the hell out while the getting was good. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and made a quick call.

“Francoise…it’s me, Jacks. Are my papers ready?”

“Not quite. You said—”

“Plans change. I need them by tomorrow morning,” Otis snapped. “Finish them now. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He hung up, then grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. He was going to be early to his dental appointment after all.

Johnny Newton’s hand wasn’t doing so good. The wounds were red and puffy, and there was a red streak running from one of them toward his wrist. Despite his meager attempts at doctoring, it had gotten infected. He’d always heard that fingernails carried loads of germs. Obviously the old saying was right.

“Sorry son-of-a-bitch,” Johnny muttered, as he dug through Mabel’s medicine chest for something stronger than alcohol. His constant use had depleted the stash. He found nothing left but an out-of-date tube of antiseptic ointment. 1992? Fuck.

With no other options but the nearly empty bottle of alcohol, he poured what was left over the festering wounds, then tossed the empty bottle in the trash. He glanced at his watch. There were only a couple of hours left until nightfall, which he’d decided would be the time to strike. Carefully he parted the bathroom curtains just enough to look at the house across the street. The guards were still there. He frowned. It was too late to rethink his options, but if he had it to do over, he would have popped the woman when he had the chance and taken the guy out on his way out of town.

Never one to dwell on a mistake, he moved away from the window, still confident that he could make all this work. Besides, he had the chance to make an easy hundred thousand just for offing one man when this job was done. Once it got dark, he was going to pay a little visit to the house across the street, then head to L.A. But he wouldn’t do the job there until he knew for sure the money was in the bank. No sir. Johnny Newton’s father might have been a fool, but he hadn’t raised one.

He moved through the second story of the house, poking in drawers and cubbyholes, more out of boredom than with intention to steal. A few minutes later, he heard a car starting up across the street. He picked up his binoculars and, out of curiosity, looked to see who was behind the wheel.

It was a kid. He shrugged and started to turn away when it dawned on him that he’d seen that kid before. He was the kid who’d mowed Mabel’s lawn. He trained the binoculars on the kid’s face. He looked weird, all wild-eyed and slack-jawed.

“What the hell?” he muttered, and shifted his gaze a little bit to the left. “His lawn mower? Why is he leaving without that?”

A few seconds later, a tall, dark-haired man came out of the house and walked down the driveway to the street and spoke to one of the guards. Johnny frowned. Something was going on. He could feel it.

The man stayed at the street with the guard, then suddenly took his leave. Johnny watched the man disappear around the back of the house, but he never returned. Finally he convinced himself that what he’d seen meant nothing. He laid down the binoculars and thought about calling pizza delivery. He’d been thinking about one all day. Trouble was, he doubted if Mabel was in the habit of calling out for her meals, and he didn’t want to draw undue attention. Cursing the state of affairs in which he now found himself, he went downstairs to raid Mabel’s kitchen one more time.

The skin on Luke’s neck was still crawling, even after he’d gone around to the back of Sam’s house. He couldn’t prove it, but he would have been willing to bet that Johnny Newton had been watching them from a window of Mabel’s house. It made him sick to his stomach, just thinking of what must have happened to her, but common sense told him that Johnny Newton would not have saddled himself with a hostage.

He quickly explained to the guards in the back about the imminent arrival of the police and also told them to stay out of the way. They were there as protection for the Cochranes and nothing else. As soon as they understood what was going on, he slipped out the back gate and ran down the alley. If he was lucky, he could circle around to the back of Mabel’s house before the police appeared. That way, if Newton got wind of what was happening before they arrived, maybe he could head him off.

Sam knocked on Jade’s door. “Honey, it’s me. May I come in?”

Jade ran to the door and opened it wide. “I’m so scared.”

He nodded. “So am I. I thought, if you didn’t mind, I’d wait it out in here with you.”

Her expression betrayed her relief. “No, I don’t mind. In fact, I’m grateful.”

“Sorry about disturbing your rest a while ago,” Sam said. “I know you didn’t sleep last night.”

Jade could tell how hard Sam was trying to help. She could only imagine how he felt as she constantly shut him out. Raphael had begged her to be open to belonging to her family again. Now she knew how right he’d been. If it wasn’t for Sam and Luke, she would have been lost through all of this. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest.

“No, I didn’t sleep. I kept imagining Raphael on that metal table in the morgue, remembering what his last moments had been like, then knowing he’d faced them alone. I took my grief out on you and Velma…and then Luke, and I’m so sorry. I know you’re getting tired of hearing me constantly apologizing for my behavior. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, because I’m not. You made Raphael’s last days bearable, and for that I will always be grateful.”

Sam took her in his arms. “Honey…I did it because I love you, and I knew you loved him. It’s that simple.”

Jade sighed. “Simple was not a word in our vocabulary,” she said. “Everything we did was such a struggle.”

Sam hugged her, then urged her over to the bed.

“Why don’t you lie down…at least for a bit? I promise I won’t leave you alone, and if you happen to fall asleep, so much the better.”

Jade shook her head. “I’ll sit down if you will, but there is no way I’ll be able to sleep. Not as long as I know Luke is in danger.”

“You like him a little, don’t you?” Sam asked.

Jade looked startled. “Who? You mean Luke?” Then she quickly looked away. “Sure I like him. He’s been very good to me.”

“Is gratitude all you feel?”

Jade shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Sam sat down on the bed beside her, then took her hands.

“We missed so many firsts with each other, didn’t we?” he said.

Jade nodded.

“No first day of school. No first roller skates or first bike. No first date or first prom.”

Jade saw his eyes fill with tears.

“I am so sorry I didn’t find you,” Sam said. “I feel such horrible guilt for what happened to you. I should have seen Margaret’s unhappiness. I should have looked for you longer…tried harder…something…anything.” Then he shuddered. “Anything to avoid what happened to you.”

“It happened. I survived it. I’m past it.”

Sam looked up. “Are you? I mean, really past it?”

Jade shrugged. “I don’t know. I like to think I am. But I’ve never tested myself to see if I could have a normal relationship with anyone.”

“Would you want to?” he asked.

Jade looked down at the floor, then up at a shadow in the corner of the ceiling.

“I wonder what’s happening across the street. Do you think it would be safe if we peeked out to—”

“Jade?”

She frowned. Sam wasn’t going to let her change the subject. So be it.

“You’re talking about Luke, aren’t you?”

“You may call this meddling, but since I never got to be a father in all the ways that count, I would like to think that I can be a friend.”

“Anyone can be a friend,” she said. “I think I’d like you better as a father.”

Suddenly Sam’s vision was blurred. He tried to speak but couldn’t get past the tears. Then Jade laid her head on his shoulder and patted his knee.

“If you don’t mind…I think I might try calling you Dad.”

“Mind? Oh, honey…” He put his arms around her and then pulled her close. “It would make me very happy.”

“I think it would make me happy, too,” she said. There was a long silence, then she added, “As for Luke, he frightens me a little. But I’ve already lost Raphael, and it frightens me even more to think of life without Luke, too.”

Sam smiled to himself as he pulled her close.

Had Luke known what Sam and his daughter were discussing, he might have hesitated at what he was about to do. But the thought of Johnny Newton escaping from the police was enough to keep him moving. Soon he had circled the block and was coming in at the edge of the Tyler property from the back.

He was behind the detached garage and trying to figure the best way to get into the house when he saw a strange vehicle parked in Mabel’s garage.

With a quick glance toward the house, he slipped inside, then moved between the cars, breaking off all four of the valve stems on the rental’s tires. The quiet hiss of escaping air was all he needed to hear. Newton wouldn’t be going anywhere in that car.

Once again he glanced toward the house. All was still silent, but as he was contemplating his first move, he saw the first police car pull up in front of the house. He lost count after the sixth car and knew that an equal amount or more would have arrived from the other direction.

It was only a matter of time before Newton saw them. Which meant he would do one of three things. Take a stand and negotiate—possibly claiming he had Mabel as a hostage—make a run for it, or shoot it out. Without waiting to see what he would do, Luke slipped out of the garage, then headed for the back door.

It was locked, which didn’t surprise him. He didn’t have his lock picks with him, and shooting his way in, or breaking a window, would only alert Newton. On the off chance that Mabel was still alive, he needed to find a way to get into the house before Newton took her as a shield and started shooting at the cops.

The Tyler house had a full basement and the windows were old. All he had to do was find one that no longer locked and come in from below.

Newton was polishing off a can of Vienna sausages when he happened to glance out the kitchen window. A police car sped past. His heart thumped; then he reminded himself that cops had been coming and going across the street ever since his arrival. It didn’t mean a damn thing. But when the second, then the third flew past, his instinct for survival kicked in. He tossed the can into the sink and ran toward the front of the house, pulling his gun as he went. What he saw made him panic. The cars hadn’t gone across the street. They were gathering in front of this house.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, as he headed for the back of the house. But before he could get out the door, he saw an armed man climbing onto the top of the garage, then dropping out of sight. A sharpshooter. Johnny’s luck had run out.

“Come on, Johnny boy…you’ve been in worse spots than this and come out smelling like a rose. Just think. Think. There’s got to be a way.”

Then it hit him. There were a thousand places to hide in this old house. But he had to make them think he was gone. He dashed back through the rooms and then upstairs, threw everything he’d brought back into his suitcase, then ran back downstairs. They would probably check the attic, but once they found Mabel’s body—and they would find it, of that he was certain—they would never suspect he was hiding in the same place. Without hesitation, he headed for the kitchen. Just as he started down the stairs, he remembered the Vienna sausage can and ran back to the sink. He took it, and the lid, and then dug through the trash can, burying them deep within the depths.

There was motion toward the front of the house, and he thought he could hear them running on the roof. It was time to go to ground.

The moment Luke dropped through the window to the basement floor, he knew Mabel was dead. The heat of a Missouri summer and the dark, enclosed cellar had enhanced the putrefaction process. Stifling the need to gag, he took out his handkerchief and held it against his face as he started toward the stairs. Then, to his shock, the door above suddenly opened. He froze, highlighted by the sudden light, then grabbed his gun and took aim. To his surprise, the footsteps that had started his way suddenly stopped. He could hear someone moving around in the room above. It was all the break he needed to take cover. Hoping that Newton would be afraid to turn on any lights in the cellar, he ran for the stairs, then flattened himself in the corner against the wall.