Tumbledown (32 page)

Alex nodded. “Gives him leverage later, blackmail or a plea bargain if he gets caught.” The men moved out of shot, and she wiped her sweaty hands on her pants, anticipating what was to come and trying to guess what was happening as the camera continued to point into the empty parking lot. Thirty-three seconds passed on the counter at the bottom right of the screen. Unable to keep still, she folded her arms, then changed her mind and sat on her hands. She was breathing too fast, her lungs working hard to keep up with the pace of her heart.

The camera shook as it suddenly spun around, the car turning to the left until its headlights pinpointed a small, staggering figure. The first bullet flew wide, a cloud of dust marking its place, and Alex watched with horror as Sarah tried to evade whoever was shooting at her. She had had no chance. Hindered by her bound hands and visibly unsteady on her feet, she stumbled along a path that kept her right in the firing line. Deakin stepped obliquely into view. Seconds later, a perfectly aimed shot threw her headlong, a burst of gray mist exploding from her right leg. She landed badly and lay unmoving as Deakin marched toward her.

“I can’t…” Alex pushed her chair back, not looking away quickly enough to miss Deakin kicking out at Sarah.

Castillo moved to stop the player, but then wavered, his hand poised above the escape key.

“Alex.”

Something in his tone made her look up again. On the screen, a woman tried to clean Sarah’s face and then used her own shirt to bind Sarah’s leg.

“She’s too young to be Kendall,” Castillo said. “She must be Leah Deakin.”

As they watched, the woman continued to tend to Sarah, applying pressure to the gunshot wound. Distracted by something, she looked across the parking lot, the lighting catching her perfectly for the camera to render the terror and misery in her expression.

“Jesus.” Alex scrubbed her face with the back of her hand, a faint optimism beginning to temper her grief. The stranger on the screen leaned down and spoke to Sarah again, and Alex drew comfort from the knowledge that Sarah had had an advocate, that she hadn’t been alone. “That’s good, isn’t it?” she said, like a child desperate for reassurance. “That Sarah has someone looking out for her?”

The recording lapsed into a mess of gray-white static. Castillo left it running and put his arm around her. “Yeah, that’s good,” he said, his answer as simplistic as her question. “That’s good.”

*

Staring straight ahead until the lights of the convenience store merged into one fluorescent mass, Alex took a sip of her coffee and heard Castillo cough as he tasted his own.

“Put hairs on your chest, that will,” she told him, stealing one of Sarah’s favorite idioms.

“Got enough of those already.” He managed a tired smile. “You better watch out though, the guy poured them both from the same pot.”

She laughed against the lip of the Styrofoam, relieved just to be out of the station. Sitting on the sidelines and watching the investigation proceed without being able to help had been driving her crazy. When Castillo announced that he was taking her with him to meet with the Belfast PD, she had almost kissed him.

“What time do you think the rental agencies will open?” she asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“I’m not sure. Some of the larger ones will probably be twenty-four seven. Local ones, not so much.”

A keen-eyed tech analyzing the patrol car footage had managed to glean a partial plate and the model of the car Deakin had been driving. It wasn’t the one registered in his name, so every rental agency in North Carolina would be getting an early morning phone call. If none of those provided any useful information, the net would be systematically widened.

“Just gotta keep chipping away at it,” Castillo said. “Local and national news are running Deakin’s mug shot and the stills from the video. Someone somewhere will recognize him or Leah, and offering a reward turns everyone into good citizens.”

“It also brings out the crazies.”

“Inevitable side effect,” he said. “But they do tend to stand out in a crowd, and the officers on the phone lines should be experienced enough to spot them.”

“I think Emerson’s going to be supervising that. He called me just before we left, to say he was on his way back in.”

“Sorry I missed him. He sounds like one of the good guys.” Castillo took a right, following the interstate toward Bangor. The beacon on his car let him cover the distance a lot more quickly than Alex had when she visited Sarah at the jail.

“He is,” she murmured belatedly, trying to push the memory of that visit out of her head; it was the last time she had seen Sarah. “You’d like him,” she added, to cover her lapse. She had told Castillo that Emerson was in the clear soon after his unexpected revelations about his personal life. The more sensitive details she had held back, confident that Castillo wouldn’t figure them out.

“Maybe when this is all over…” He slowed for a stoplight, checked that the road was clear, and then tore through it. He was about to finish his sentence when his cell rang. He glanced at Alex and put it through to hands-free. “Agent Castillo,” he said.

“Sir, this is Agent Somers, out working with the Belfast PD. I know you’re on your way over here, but Emily Kendall—the prison officer—has been found on a roadside near Eddington. They’ve taken her to Eastern Maine Med in Bangor. Figured you might want to swing by there first.”

“Thank you.” Castillo nodded his encouragement at Alex as she began to reset the GPS. “What’s her condition?”

“Head injury, mild case of exposure, but she’s conscious and able to speak, sir.”

“That’s great.” He checked the route on the GPS. “We’re about fifty minutes out. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Happy to help, sir,” Somers said, sounding like he meant it. “I’m going to the hospital myself, so I’ll see you there.”

“Tobin must’ve dumped her before he met with Deakin. That’s why she wasn’t on the video footage,” Alex said as the dial tone sounded. “Eddington is about forty miles from Belfast, where they found his body.”

“Ah.” Castillo frowned. “If he didn’t want to kill her, why not just leave her to Deakin?”

“Maybe someone convinced him there was a third way.”

He looked at her, and she guessed he had been thinking along the same lines. “Sarah can be quite persuasive,” he said, with considerable understatement. “Did I ever tell you what she had me do so she could sit with you at the hospital the other year?”

She shook her head, feeling tears well up again. “No, you didn’t,” she eventually managed.

He fished a napkin from his pocket. “Here, dry your eyes and no crying. It’s a nice story.” He broke into a smile. “Y’know, I think it’s that accent of hers,” he said. “It lets her get away with anything.”

*

Sarah awoke to pain and darkness. She had been fading in and out for a while, all too willing to succumb to shock if it would bring her respite from the sickening way the broken bones in her leg shifted when the car hit a pothole, or turned, or made any kind of movement however small. This time she remembered where she was, remembered not to make any more futile attempts to wrestle her wrists free or to scream against the tape sealing her lips. Instead, she positioned her good leg to support her bad one, and then lay as still as possible.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, bringing into focus the outline of the trunk and its only other contents, a roll of duct tape. As far as she could see or feel, the trunk had no lever to open it from the inside. There was no conveniently discarded key for her handcuffs, nor anything she could use to pry them loose, and the injury to her leg prevented her from bringing her hands forward.

She lowered her head to the rough upholstery. She didn’t know why she was even thinking about getting free; she couldn’t exactly run, and even if she tried, Deakin would only bloody well shoot her in her other leg. For some reason, the absurdity of that image made her smile, then laugh, and then cry slightly hysterically. Deakin was going to kill her, that seemed incontrovertible, but the fact that he hadn’t killed her outright meant he probably intended to use her to get to Alex. The realization sobered her and she squeezed her eyes shut against a thought that came unbidden: the trunk stank of blood, her own blood. It was difficult to estimate how much she had already lost, but it was enough to quicken her pulse and breathing, and make her teeth chatter despite the warmth of the enclosed space. It would be quite simple for her to tug loose the dressing the woman had applied and then aggravate the wound so that she bled out…

The car bumped over a rut and she let out a mumbled stream of every curse she knew, straining her wrists against the cuffs until she couldn’t tell which part of her hurt the worst. It seemed like fair punishment for even contemplating taking the easy way out and leaving Alex to pick up the pieces. However much she wanted to give in right at that moment, she knew she couldn’t do that to Alex, not when there was still a chance, albeit a slim one, that someone would find her before Deakin could finish whatever he had planned. With that in mind, she decided to simplify her goals. Escape was impossible, as was overpowering her captors, which left her with only one realistic aim: to stay alive for as long as she could.

With dawn still only a hint on the horizon, the gas station had been empty of customers, while its bored-looking cashier had barely spared Caleb a glance as he pulled up at the pump. Leah had heard Sarah start to kick against the trunk as soon as the car had been stationary for longer than at the average traffic signal. Through the rearview mirror, Leah had watched Caleb open the trunk and say something. Sarah hadn’t made a sound since.

Leah jumped as Caleb rapped on the window with his keys. He didn’t speak, merely motioning her to go with him. She obeyed without question, scrambling from the car on travel-stiff legs and following him across to the store. As he turned and waited impatiently for her to catch up with him, she wondered what he thought she might do if he left her alone with Sarah. She had no car keys, no phone, no weapon, and there was no one around to help them. It came as no surprise, though, to see how little he trusted her.

The cashier beckoned them to enter the store, clicking open the lock on the door as they approached. He mumbled a greeting and returned his attention to his cell phone. At the side of the counter, a hand-scrawled notice warned potential thieves that they were being recorded, but Leah couldn’t spot the camera. For a small, between-towns store, it was reasonably well stocked. She heard a rustle as Caleb chose a selection of snacks and took them to the counter. Cautiously, she set her own purchases alongside his. He glared at her but said nothing, evidently unwilling to give the cashier any cause to remember them.

“All together?” the cashier asked.

“Yeah, yeah, all together.” Keeping his head down and his cap pulled low, Caleb took the paper bag as soon as the total flashed up. He paid in cash, pocketed the change, and turned away.

“Have a nice day.” The cashier didn’t sound as if he cared either way, but when Leah smiled warmly at him he smiled back, caught out by her geniality.

Once they were out of earshot, Caleb thrust the bag at Leah. “What the fuck kind of game are you playing?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean. What game?”

“Getting me to buy this shit, like it’ll make a fucking difference in the end.”

Relief that he had missed her exchange with the cashier almost left her tongue-tied. “I’m just trying to help,” she mumbled, directing her defense at her feet, her eyes cast down as her mom had taught her.

He didn’t bother to answer. By the time she had stowed her bag, he was already flicking through the radio stations, searching for news reports. The bulletins were dominated by Sarah’s kidnapping, Tobin’s murder, and the statewide manhunt currently underway. A generous reward was now being offered for any information leading to Caleb’s arrest. He whistled when he heard the amount, but seemed to be taking more notice than before of the few other vehicles on the road, and sweat was beginning to bead on his upper lip.

“Might not make it back home, baby,” he said, as if that had ever been likely. He took a long drink from a can of heavily caffeinated soda and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. He wetted his lips with a tongue tinged artificially pink. “Might have to dig in somewhere and see what happens when we rattle the cage some.” He grinned and threw the map into her lap. “Find us a quiet place to stop. I need to make a few phone calls.”

*

The corridors of Eastern Maine Medical Center were in nighttime mode: their lighting dimmed, the few voices within them hushed. The squeak of a gurney as paramedics steered it toward an elevator seemed almost apologetic as it violated the stillness.

Emily Kendall had been admitted to a room on the second floor. Grateful to stretch their legs, Alex and Castillo took the stairs. They didn’t need to ask for directions when they exited the stairwell; only one of the rooms had a uniformed officer seated outside it. He carefully examined Castillo’s ID and then held the door open for them.

In keeping with the rest of the hospital, the room they stepped into was peaceful and softly lit. The woman in the bed appeared to be asleep, but there was a man at her side holding her hand. He beckoned them forward and stood as they approached.

“James Kendall.” He offered his hand. “I’m Emily’s husband. The officer said you would be coming to speak to her. She dozed off about ten minutes ago, though. Pain meds,” he added, by way of explanation.

Disturbed by the activity, Emily Kendall opened her eyes. She looked to be in her late forties and, judging by the naked fear in her expression, she was deeply traumatized. A large dressing covered her forehead, and both her wrists were heavily wrapped. Even without knowing officially what had happened to her, Alex had no difficulty making an educated guess. James Kendall was just about to introduce them when Emily spoke.

“Did they find Sarah?”

Castillo took a step closer to the bed. “No, ma’am. Not yet.”

She nodded, but her bottom lip quivered as she looked at Alex. It was obvious that she knew who Alex was. “I wasn’t quick enough,” she said. She touched her forehead, wincing as she did so. “Sarah tried to tell me, but I didn’t believe her at first, and then…” The tears started to fall in earnest and her words became progressively more muffled as she wept. “She saved my life and I just let him take her. I’m so sorry.” She began to rock back and forth in the bed, and her husband gathered her into his arms.