‘Evan. Let me help you. Please. Tell me where you are.’
Jargo eased her closer, put his ear even closer to the phone. ‘I love you,’ she said.
A moment’s silence. ‘Good-bye, Carrie. I really love you. But I don’t think we can talk for a while.’
‘Evan, don’t.’
He hung up.
Jargo shoved her hard against the window. ‘Goddamn you stupid bitch!’ The glass smacked hard against her skull, the barrel of his Glock pushed against her throat.
‘Should I pull over?’ Dezz asked.
‘No.’ Jargo yanked the cell phone from Carrie, read the call log, dialed Galadriel on his set, ordered her to trace the number. He hung up and stared at Carrie. ‘You called to warn him? You told me you didn’t call him.’
‘No, I called to give him a reason to stay away from the FBI or the CIA if they came looking for him.’
‘I didn’t tell you to do that,’ Jargo said.
‘Initiative. I wanted him to shut up, about everything, until we could get to him. You didn’t get to him in time. You let the police get a hold of him. But I didn’t get to tell him the entire spiel. Gabriel attacked the police cruiser just as I’d gotten him on the phone.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because you’d freak out, just like you’re doing now. I didn’t get useful information, but I didn’t put us at risk.’
‘If the police recovered his cell phone, your phone number’s on the log.’
‘I used a backup phone. Stolen. Untraceable.’
‘It was stupid,’ Jargo said.
‘You want him alive so you can get the files. If his mother told him about you or the files, I didn’t want him saying a word to the police about the CIA. It was to protect him and to protect you. Our interests coincided.’ She watched Jargo’s gun, wondered if she would be dead in the second it took to see the bullet launch from the barrel.
He lowered the gun. ‘This is really not the time for me to worry about your loyalty. We clear?’
‘Crystal clear.’ She gripped his arm. ‘The CIA killed my parents, you think I want them killing Evan? If he’s with Gabriel, and we can get Evan back, let me talk to him. It’ll be much easier if you let me handle it. Please.’
‘You think you can recruit him.’
‘I think I can start the process. He’s lost everything. Except me. He’s vulnerable. I can win him over, I know I can.’
‘He said he loves you,’ Jargo said.
‘Yes. He told me that last night.’ She faced the front of the car.
‘So you’re his weakness,’ Jargo said with a laugh.
‘Apparently.’
‘Him loving you should make things easier,’ Dezz said with a laugh. ‘Bring him over with a good screw, and we’re set.’
‘Shut your stinking mouth,’ she said. She wanted to smash Dezz’s nose in, break the teeth in his smirk.
Jargo’s cell phone beeped. He answered, ‘Galadriel, don’t disappoint me.’ He listened. Nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He clicked off. ‘The cell phone is owned by one Paul Granger.’
‘Same name as the e-mail,’ Carrie said. ‘How far away are we?’
‘Less than five minutes,’ Dezz said. And then the sirens were wailing, the blues and reds of a police car flashing behind them.
13
Carrie was safe.
Thugs trying to act like government agents, Carrie had said. Was it really the FBI? Or could it be the CIA, looking for him? How would they know about him, about his parents and their connection to these damnable files? It didn’t make sense to him, but nothing did this morning. What mattered was Carrie was safe and sound. He would have to resist the urge to hear her voice and keep her at arm’s length, clear of this nightmare.
I find you and lose you, all at once, he thought. But just until he could find his dad, find out the truth of what had happened to his family. Then they could be together.
He went back to the bedroom where Gabriel was chained. Now Gabriel was sitting close to the headboard.
‘My girlfriend said the FBI was looking for me yesterday morning.’
‘Quite possibly,’ Gabriel said. ‘What do you want me to do about it?’
‘She didn’t believe they were real FBI. Could they have been CIA? You pull in my mom in Austin, they pull me in Houston.’
‘If they wanted you, they would have grabbed you earlier and taken you. I don’t know who it was. Sorry.’ Gabriel rattled the chain. ‘Are you leaving me here?’
‘I don’t know yet.’ Evan locked Gabriel in the bedroom. He hurried down the hall. Gabriel could be lying about not having help, the CIA or any friends of Gabriel’s could arrive at any moment. He ran into Gabriel’s bedroom. Opened the first suitcase. A few clothes. A lot of cash. Enough to make Evan stare. Neatly bound bricks of twenties and hundreds. No ID in the bag, but the luggage tag read J. GABRIEL. and an address in McKinney, a suburb of Dallas.
He searched Gabriel’s other bag. A few clothes, two guns, neatly oiled and disassembled. He dumped the gun pieces in with the cash. In the corner he spotted a small metal box.
He tried opening it. Locked. Locked meant important. He needed tools to crack it open. He dumped his damaged laptop into the suitcase with the cash. Ran downstairs to the garage. He loaded the bag into the rear of the Suburban, clearing out space. He hurried back inside and retrieved the small locked box, put it inside his duffel bag, went back down to the garage, and stuck the duffel in the passenger seat.
He went back upstairs. Getting Gabriel downstairs in the handcuffs would not be easy. He would stick Gabriel in the back of the SUV, hit the road, and call Durless. He thought Durless would listen. He was probably mortified and furious at losing Evan, and then losing the case to the FBI. Evan would give him a chance to save face.
He unlocked the door and walked into the bedroom.
The bed was empty. The handcuff dangled from the bed frame. The drapes danced in the breeze allowed by the open window.
Evan ran downstairs. His own breathing, panicked, filled his ears. CNN warbled in the den. He opened the door leading to the garage. Ducked inside. No sign of Gabriel. He edged in the dimly lit garage over to the Suburban.
Where the hell was Gabriel?
The garage door powered upward in sudden motion.
14
Evan knew he would be seen in a matter of seconds.
The Suburban was parked farthest from the house. As the garage door motored up, Evan slid over the hood of the SUV, putting the Suburban between him and the rest of the garage. He huddled down close to the front right wheel. He pulled the gun he’d taken from Gabriel from the back of his jeans.
Gabriel ran into the garage.
I have his keys, he went out the window, this must be his only way back in the house, Evan thought.
Either Gabriel had seen him or hadn’t and Evan would know in a moment.
Footsteps. Heading toward the door that led to the kitchen. Evan heard that door open. Then the garage door powering downward along its tracks. Gabriel cutting off his escape that way. He believed Evan was still inside the house.
Evan risked a peek above the Suburban’s hood. He’s probably got more guns in the house, and he’s heading for one, because he knows I’ve got one and now I’ll have heard the garage door, wherever I am in the house. Evan eased inside the Suburban from the passenger side, slid into the driver’s seat, inserted the key into the ignition. He found the garage door opener clipped to the sun visor and hit the button. The garage door stopped.
He hit the button instantly again and the door crept up as he started the Suburban. Evan thought, Please, let him have run upstairs already…
The door to the house flew open; Gabriel stood in the doorway, gun in hand. The garage door still motored upward.
Gabriel slammed his fist onto the door control; it stopped. He ran past the motorcycle. Heading right for the driver’s door.
Evan shifted into reverse and hit the accelerator. The Suburban roared backward, metal screeching as it scraped the lowered garage door.