There was a long beat of silence before Michael spoke again. “I know what you must think, Taylor. But I really am not guilty of everything they say I’m guilty of. Besides, I’ve lost my taste for it. It was something that got out of control because of the writing, because I was so far into the writing.
I’ve got it under control now, for good.”
“You make it sound like a drug problem, Michael. But it wasn’t a drug problem. You were killing people!”
“You don’t understand, Taylor. You don’t understand what it’s like.”
“Of course I don’t. I hope I never do! There is no understanding, Michael. You were killing people.”
“Look, I can’t stay on this phone forever. They’re probably listening now. So I’ve just got to come out and say it: Are you going to help me or what?”
“I don’t know,” she said softly.
“Taylor, how much money have I made for you and the agency and that damn publisher? You owe me. Just call it an advance on royalties. And besides, they’ll kill me if you don’t. And while I know you don’t anymore, remember, you once loved me.”
Taylor felt her head swim yet again. Would this ever go away, ever be over with? “Look, I don’t know. I need time to think, Michael. I just need a little time to think.”
“How much time?” he asked, his voice just on the edge of desperation.
“Call me tonight,” she answered. “I’ll be home after seven.
Call me on my cell tonight.”
“I’m trusting you, Taylor. My life’s in your hands.”
She cringed. “Don’t say that, Michael. Please don’t say that.”
He clicked off, and the phone went silent. She stood there a moment, staring as the steady stream of pedestrians shifted to avoid bumping into her. Taylor held the phone out in front of her and squinted to read the screen in the harsh sunlight. She pulled the number up and didn’t recognize the area code.
He could’ve gotten it anywhere, she thought. Could’ve taken it from anyone…
She hurried down the block to the agency, then up the stairs to her office. She pulled off her coat, locked her office door, then sat down at her desk. She stared out the window for a moment, thinking.
Then she knew what she had to do.
Four hours later, Hank Powell pulled up in front of Taylor Robinson’s apartment in a nondescript sedan driven by Special Agent in Charge Joyce Parelli. At strategic points in the block surrounding Taylor’s building, NYPD plainclothes detectives and dressed-down FBI agents kept watch over the neighborhood.
Taylor met them at the door in a white blouse and pair of jeans. She looked pale, Hank thought, tired and shaken. Her handshake was firm, though, as she took his hand.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said, shutting the door behind them.
“I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances,” Hank said.
“Taylor, this is Joyce Parelli. She runs the New York Field Office.”
Taylor nodded. “Hi. Pleased to meet you.”
“Me, too,” Joyce said. “So how’re you holding up?”
Taylor led them into the living room, where her cell phone lay on the coffee table like a time bomb waiting to go off.
“I’m hanging in there,” she said, “but frankly, just barely.”
She turned to Hank. “I thought you said he wouldn’t call me.”
Hank shook his head. “I didn’t think he would. I thought he’d be smarter than that.”
“He’s desperate,” Taylor said. “He needs cash. He’s got money out of the country, but he can’t get to it.”
“Did he tell you how much he needs?” Joyce asked.
Taylor shook her head. “No. I assume that’ll come when he calls me tonight.”
“If he calls,” Hank said.
Taylor turned to the kitchen. “Oh, he’ll call. Don’t worry.
I could tell it in his voice. I need a glass of wine. Are you guys off duty?”
Hank and Joyce glanced at each other. “I’m good,” she said. “Don’t need a thing.”
“If you’ve got a can of soda,” Hank said.
“Diet Coke okay?” she called from the kitchen.
“Sure.”
Taylor came back in few moments later with a glass of white wine and a tall glass full of soda and handed it to Hank.
“What am I going to do?” Taylor asked. “When he calls, what’s the game plan?”
“A lot of that’s up to him,” Parelli said. “What he wants you to do and how he wants you to do it.”
“Can’t you just tap the cell phone and find out where he is, then go pick him up?” Taylor demanded.
“We can monitor the calls,” Hank explained, “and we will.
But especially if he’s on a cell and moving around, which he will be, then it gets really tough. Unless he stands still and talks to you a very long time, then by the time we figure out where he is, he’s not there anymore.”
“Shouldn’t you go ahead and move whatever equipment you need up here now?”
“We don’t need anything up here now. We’ve got a van outside now that’s got everything in it we need.”
Taylor paced back and forth in the living room. “This is driving me crazy,” she said, exasperated. “We’ve got to get this over with.”
Hank, concerned, looked over at Joyce for a moment.
Joyce made a slight motion of her head toward Taylor.
“Taylor,” Hank said, his voice reassuring, “we need you to hang in there with us just a little while longer. When he calls, I want you to listen to him, be calm, and I want you to agree to anything he says.”
He crossed the living room and stopped in front of Taylor.
He reached out and touched her forearm. She stopped pacing and looked up at him.
“Can you do that for me? Can you help me with this?”
Taylor gave him a look that was half smile, half sneer.
“Men … You’re all just looking to get something for free.”
Hank smiled back at her. “I knew I could count on you.
Now, we wait.”
Ten minutes later, the cell phone rang. Hank nodded at her. She hit the connect button and turned the volume up as loud as it would go. Hank stood next to her, straining to listen.
“Hello.”
“Taylor?”?
“Yes, Michael. I’m here.”?
“Have you had a chance to think about this?”?
“Yes, Michael. I’ll help you, on one condition.”?
“Yeah?”?
“You use the money to get as far away from here as you can.?
Don’t ever come back. Don’t ever let me see you again.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice brightening. “I’m out of here.”
“Now,” Taylor said, “how much do you need?”
“I need at least a hundred thousand,” he said. “In small bills.”
Taylor looked up, her face tense. Hank nodded at her.
“Keep going,” he mouthed.
“That’s a lot of money. I’ll need some time to get it together. I can’t just run out to a cash machine.”
“How much time will you need?”
“The banks open at ten. I’ll have to move a little money around between accounts. Maybe a couple of hours.”
“That’s fine. Noon, then.”
“Where are we going to meet?” Taylor asked.
A few moments of scratchy silence followed. “I’ve always thought the easiest way to get lost was to wade into the middle of a crowd. Grand Central Station at lunchtime.”
“Grand Central’s a big place,” she said. “How will I find you?”
“Go to the kiosk, that place in the middle of the main concourse.”
“You mean the information booth? Under the big clock?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Put the money in a bag and go to the center of the main level there. Keep your cell phone close by.
I’ll call you.”
“And then what, Michael?”
“There’s a million places to hide in there. We’ll meet somewhere out of the way. You’ll give me the bag. If I’m lucky, you’ll kiss me good-bye. And that’ll be it. You’ll never see me again.”
“It’ll be over,” she said softly.?
“Yeah, over.”?
“Michael, where are you?”
“I’m in the city.”
“But where in the city? Have you got a place to sleep?
Have you eaten? Are you taking care of yourself?”