"We have to make a stop," Jared said suddenly. "I want you to get on the interstate and head west." "I thought we were avoiding Interstate 80." "There's a truck stop. It shouldn't be too far." "You're hungry again?" It couldn't be much after noon yet. "No, we're not eating there. I need to pick something up." "'What can you possibly pick up at a truck stop?" "Just do what I fucking tell you to do, Mel." Her face burned. Her hands balled into fists around the steering wheel. She kept her mouth shut and her eyes ahead. Sometimes he reminded her of her father, and this was one of those times.
CHAPTER 67
1:40 p.m.
Triple J Truck Stop-East of Normal, Nebraska
Pakula watched from the tinted windows of the TV-repair van. His knees still felt a little unsteady but he was glad to be back on the ground. And he was glad he wasn't in charge. All this firepower made him nervous.
He was used to Omaha -a river valley with lots of hills and trees and buildings. Out here, where the landscape couldn't be much flatter and there were wide-open spaces where you could see for miles, there wasn't anywhere to hide. He thought for sure Barnett would be able to spot something: the reflection of a rifle scope or even a black boot on the rooftop of the deserted gas station across the road. There weren't any fucking trees. Just the parking lot, a long expanse of concrete surrounded by flat pastures of grass.
They didn't even know what kind of vehicle Barnett was driving now. Although they did know from Kramer who was with him-his sister and seventeen-year-old nephew. And hopefully-Pakula prayed-Andrew. He had reminded Sanchez several times about Andrew and asked what precautions were being taken. Did the SWAT team know they had a hostage? Had they seen pictures of Andrew as well as Jared? How would they know the difference between the two? How could they guarantee they wouldn't make a mistake?
Sanchez only shrugged and told him there were no guarantees with anything. Pakula knew he himself was sounding more like a civilian than a law enforcement officer. He knew the risks and had always been willing to take them, but in the past it had always been a matter of taking the risks for himself, not for a friend. Not for a friend he already felt responsible for.
"Almost two," Sanchez announced into his headset, and Pakula braced himself, his body stiffening just as it had earlier right before the Black Hawk had taken off. In retrospect, that part had been a cakewalk.
CHAPTER 68
1:56 p.m.
Melanie parked in the last slot in the corner, exactly where Jared instructed, away from the door of the truck stop. She cut the engine, but he made no attempt to leave the car. Instead, he sat back in the seat, looking out the rear windows, looking up as if expecting something to come out of the sky.
"Didn't you say you had to pick something up here?" she asked.
"Yeah, wait a minute. Something's not right." He slouched down in the seat. "I left the gun in the glove compartment," he said. "Charlie, get it for me."
Melanie reached for the compartment before Charlie could. She opened it, hesitated, took a deep breath and wrapped her fingers around the gun. It felt so odd and yet familiar and not quite as heavy as she remembered.
"Tell me what's going on, Jared," she said, pulling the gun out and holding it in her lap.
"Give me the gun," Jared told her, but he stayed slouched down instead of reaching over the seat for it.
"Not until you tell me, Jared. No more secrets. What are we picking up?"
"Just some money. I had Max Kramer wire some money for us."
"Max Kramer?" She remembered the phone calls he had made to his attorney. Was it possible he was simply asking Kramer for help? "What makes you think you can trust him?"
"He got me off before, didn't he?"
"I thought he got you off because you weren't guilty."
"Yeah. That's what I meant." Jared's head and eyes kept darting around but he stayed low, which only made Mela-nie more nervous. "Don't worry about Kramer, Mel. I've got some insurance back in my room."
"What do you mean, insurance?"
"Melanie, give me the fucking gun. You know that I'm just trying to take care of you and me."
"What about Charlie?"
Melanie looked over at Charlie. He was sitting perfectly still, half slouched in his seat, following his uncle's example. He was always following Jared, doing exactly what Jared asked without question, without thought.
"Of course, Charlie, too. But you know, Mel, Charlie's been screwing up a lot. He's the reason we're in this fucking mess. Isn't that right, Charlie?"
She could see the boy cower from Jared's words and she was startled by the image of another boy, cowering, bracing himself, not for words, but for blows. Charlie reminded her exactly of Jared as a boy. And when she looked back at Jared she could see how much he now reminded her of her father. Why hadn't she seen it before? Jared's quick temper, his outbursts of rage. No, it wasn't possible.