Redemption (4 page)

Mrs. Zinkleman's mouth fell open and her eyes bulged. The cigarette broke in half. “For me. All that money is for me?”

Jamie nodded but didn't make a move to give it to her. “He wanted to make sure you were doing OK. He figured you could use the money.”

Mrs. Zinkleman stared at the money. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I guess this means he did those things they said.” Her chest heaved as she took a deep breath. “I never believed it. None of it. Everybody else did, but not me. I believe in my son. He's a good boy. He wouldn't do the things they said.” A tear leaked out and made its way down her wrinkled cheek.

Guilt pricked at Jamie's conscience, but there was nothing she could say without giving herself away. Very deliberately Jamie set the money in her lap instead of handing it to Michael's mother. “He's been worried about you.”

Mrs. Zinkleman wiped away the tears. “Such a sweet little boy. He always was a good son. I still can't believe he took the money. Or took his kid. Andrew was such a sweet thing. I miss him—almost as much as I miss Michael.” She sighed. “It really wasn't like him at all. “

That's just what Jamie needed—more guilt. She couldn't be responsible for the fact that this woman's son was a creep. “I can't talk about any of that. The less I say the better for Michael.” Jamie's fingers tapped the stack of green bills.

Mrs. Zinkleman's gaze moved to the money.

Good. Keep the focus on the money, not on her son or her grandson.

“There's just one thing.”

“What's that?” The woman was still looking at Jamie's lap.

More finger tapping as if hearing a tune in her head. “While I'm in town, I wanted to meet with a few of Michael's friends. Just to take a few pictures so I could surprise him with a little piece of home. He misses everyone.” She pulled out her cell phone.

Mrs. Zinkleman tore her gaze from the prize and stared open-mouthed at Jamie. She looked confused. “Pictures?”

“If you don't mind, I'll take a few of you and some of his friends. I thought you could tell me who his friends are so I can contact them.”

Mrs. Zinkleman's eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I ain't telling you who his friends are. You should know that already if you know Michael like you said.”

“I do know, but I don't have the time to go visit all of them. I just wanted to get a few pictures of his very best friends. It's a surprise so I can't very well ask him, can I?” Jamie touched the money still sitting on her lap. “I'm sure you want to help me, don't you? As soon as you tell me, I can give you the money and be on my way.”

Mrs. Zinkleman's looked at the money, and then back at Jamie. “You sure that money's from Michael?”

“Who else would it be from?” Answer a question with a question. Always a good ploy to divert someone's attention.

Mrs. Zinkleman stood up wringing her hands. “I don't know. It don't seem right. Let me get my husband.” She walked out of the room.

This wasn't going to be as easy as Jamie had planned. She'd hoped Michael's mother would be so dazzled by the money that she wouldn't be suspicious of Jamie's motives.

 

 

 

 

5

 

Mrs. Zinkleman walked back in the room accompanied by a man Jamie assumed was Michael's father. He wore a dirty white T-shirt that didn't hide the beer gut beneath it. His face was grizzled as if he hadn't bothered to shave for the past few days.

She stood up and made a move to shake his hand.

He ignored it. “What's this about Mikey wanting to give us money?” His gaze slipped to her cleavage, and then he looked back up at her with a leer. “That don't sound much like Mikey at all. He never cared about helping out me or his mother. Got that fancy college degree, and then acted like he was ashamed of us.”

“That's not true,” Mrs. Zinkleman protested. “Michael's a good boy and a good son.”

The man glared at his wife.

Jamie was afraid he might hit her. She wouldn't let that happen.

“That boy was never any good and you know it. I told the police that. And I ain't heard from him since he grabbed my grandson and left.” He looked back at Jamie. “So you want to know who he's close to. Who he might still keep in contact with? Huh?”

“Not at all. I just wanted to get a few pictures to give to Michael of some of his friends. He misses home.” It sounded lame even to her.

Mr. Zinkleman stared at her as he scratched his belly. Finally, he sighed. “Whatever. How much money you got there?”

Jamie wondered what the going rate was for betraying his son. “Two thousand.”

He shook his head. “Not enough.”

She gritted her teeth. The man actually wanted to bargain. How much was the price of betrayal? She opened her purse. “Five thousand. It's all I have.”

He nodded. “Sounds about right.” He held out his hand.

“Give me a name.” All pretending was gone now. This was out-and-out negotiations and they both knew it.

Even Mrs. Zinkleman understood. She sat in the chair sniffling tears running down her cheeks as she watched the two of them.

“Ryan Mattson. The two of them were buddies in high school, but Michael went to college while Ryan went to jail.” His hand shot out.

She placed the money in it.

“Always did like that Ryan. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty like Mikey was. He'd get under the hood and help me while Mikey stood by and watched.”

“Where can I find Ryan?”

The man shrugged. “It will cost you another five grand.”

What a prince.
She opened her purse and showed it to him. “All gone. I don't have any more.”

He shrugged. “Then I don't know nothing else.”

Jamie turned to leave.

Mrs. Zinkleman jumped up and accompanied her to the door. She grabbed Jamie's arm. “Tell me the truth; did Michael really give you that money to give us?”

Jamie understood the question. Mrs. Zinkleman wanted to know if her child had committed the crimes he'd been accused of. He was guilty as far as Jamie was concerned, but there was no reason to break this woman's heart any more than it already was.

Jamie shook her head before she turned and left.

 

 

 

 

6

 

Jamie walked out of the Zinkleman house. She wrinkled her nose. She reeked of cigarettes, but the feeling of dirtiness wasn't from the foul odor. It came from dealing with Michael's father. What a slimeball. Sold out his son for five thousand, and then had the nerve to try to double it.

Jamie hadn't even bothered to take the pictures of them. And they hadn't reminded her either.

It had been a business transaction pure and simple. With a father like that, it wasn't surprising Michael hadn't turned out to be the man Zink thought him to be.

The mother was a different story. His mother had sat there rocking and wiping away the tears.

Jamie's heart broke for her.

Mrs. Zinkleman had not had an easy life.

Maybe, she should have agreed to the extra money to find out where Ryan Mattson was. But she didn't like Mr. Zinkleman, and she didn't want to give him another penny of her money. Thanks to her past investments she had plenty. And it pleased her to use some of it to find Andrew Zinkleman. Jamie turned the corner.

Enrique opened his car door and stepped out.

For a second Jamie was surprised to see him there. She'd forgotten he was waiting. Or that he'd been listening to the whole encounter at the house.

“Hey, Jamie. Good job. You did in ten minutes what other agents couldn't do in two years.”

“I suppose, but it's only a lead. There's no guarantee this guy has any idea where Michael is.”

“That's true, but at least it's a start. Let me give you a ride back to your hotel room.”

“I'll take the bus.”

“Don't be silly. You got the name so your job here is finished. And it's not like they even believed your cover story—at least, not by the end. There's no reason to take the bus. I can drive you back. And like it or not we're working together.”

“That is not what we are doing. I told you I'd give you the information I discovered at the Zinklemans' and I did. I never said we were partners for this whole operation. I kept my word and now we're done.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but apparently changed his mind. He opened the passenger side of his car and motioned for her to get in. He turned serious. “Look, Jamie. The past is the past. I want to find Andrew Zinkleman as much as you do. This isn't about us. It's about bringing a little boy back home to his mother and putting away a bad guy. Together we can do it. I know it.”

Jamie felt the heat rising in her cheeks as memories rushed in—why did she have to be a blusher? She met his gaze straight on. “There is no us.” Keeping her spine straight, she walked past him and towards the bus stop.

Back in her hotel room, Jamie pulled off the wig, changed into more suitable clothes, and then sat at the cheap pressed-wood desk. After she turned on her laptop, she walked over to the heating/AC unit attached to the wall under the window. It was turned all the way up. The room was hotter than outside.

Jamie swore she could smell the unseen mold and mildew in the room. Maybe, she'd go to a different motel for the night before she started phase two. A clean one with real air conditioning and fresh sheets. She plopped on the end of the bed and stared at the laptop's screen. As she waited for it to connect to the Internet guilt nibbled at her for being so childish. She was letting her past—and Enrique's—interfere with the present.

Enrique had access to all sorts of information she couldn't get to any longer now that she'd severed her ties to the FBI. Of course, she could call Marcus. He would probably eventually give her the information, but Enrique would have instant access.

She sighed.

Time to put aside her hurt feelings or whatever they were and stay focused on Andrew Zinkleman. Finding Zink's son was more important.

And like Enrique said, the past was the past.

Besides, a good-looking guy like him would have moved on. By now he certainly had a girlfriend, if not a fiancée, somewhere.

If he could act like a professional then so could she. She picked up her purse. Putting her mouth close to the microphone she whispered, “OK, Ricky, you win. I'm at the Shady Rest on High Street. Room 114.”

 

****

 

Enrique smiled as he heard Jamie's whispered words. He pretended he didn't like her calling him Ricky, but the truth was he didn't mind it at all. It reminded him of better times with her.

He was already parked in the Shady Rest's parking lot. Putting the car in gear, he coasted towards the side of the building where Jamie's room was located. He'd known Jamie would reconsider. That was one of her most awesome qualities. She thought things through even when she was angry and worked out the best path.

He didn't blame her for not wanting to work with him. The last time had been a fiasco—both professionally and personally. But thankfully, he'd changed since then. He'd grown as an FBI agent, a person, but more importantly, he'd returned to his Christian roots. He was a different man. If only he could show her just how much he'd changed. Before, Jamie would have never called him—never given him a second chance. If she was giving him a second chance professionally, she might be willing to do the same personally.

He prayed she would. He'd fallen hard for Jamie but he'd blown it. And time had not healed his heart. He'd called in every favor to get assigned with her again. With God's help, he and Jamie would bring Andrew Zinkleman back to his mother. And maybe he could heal his broken heart and be with the woman he loved. Enrique turned off the car and stepped out into the brutal heat. A moment later, he knocked on the door of 114.

“That was certainly quick.” Jamie gave him a suspicious look as she opened the door.

“I followed the bus and you.” He shrugged. “Just doing my job, ma'am.”

“I should have known.”

“Why are you staying in a dump like this?”

“Well, I could say because I'm paying for it with my own money, but the truth is when I play a character, I play it all the way.”

“Oh, a method actor. I see.”

“I suppose you could call me that.”

“Well, you got what you needed at the Zinklemans', so can we move to a slightly nicer hotel? Or are you going back to Suzanne's?”

“We are not moving anywhere together. And no, I'm not going back to Zink's. She's out of the loop for now. I can't have her interfering with my investigation. She's too emotionally involved. If I need her I'll call.”

“That makes sense. Speaking of emotionally involved maybe we should clear the air.”

“Not going to happen.”

“Jamie, we need to—”

“We need to what, Ricky? Talk it out. Have a heart-to-heart? Lay our souls bare? I don't think so. You made it very clear to me the last time what you thought of me.”

He hadn't meant the words yelled out in anger. “Jamie, I didn't mean—.”

“Why not? They were true. You were right. What I did was disgusting—I agree with you.”

“Well, I don't agree with you. You are an amazing and brave woman whom I admire more than you can imagine.”

Her eyes grew wide and tiny diamonds glistened in them. For a moment he thought she was ready to listen, but the moment dissolved as she turned. He touched her shoulder.

She shrugged his hand away, and then whirled back. “There is nothing to discuss. I'm a professional and so are you. Let's work this case so we can both get back to our own lives. Our separate lives.”

It was true; words could never be taken back. But it was not the time to argue. It was early in the game.