“Yes.”
“How did you recognize me?”
“Oh, you’ve been the topic of many conversations between me and my mom.”
He lied. Convicted felons were not allowed to visit in prisons, and he’d have felon written all over him. And Bella would never get out.
“I have your money, that’s why I’m here,” I said. “It’s out in the car.” I held my hand out, guiding the way.
“No, it’s not,” he said. “No way do you have the money. But I’ll play your stupid little game, just because I know we have to in order to get past this part, so we can move on.”
He came along quietly. His unruffled demeanor set off warning signals. My instinct said to move with extreme caution. In all my years of chasing heavyweight predators, I had never come across one about to go to prison, as quiet and calm as Jonas. Something was up.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mack would have heard on the radio traffic that I had directed everyone to the east side of the mall, and he would have known for sure I wouldn’t be on that side. He had to choose from three other directions to catch me. I had a one-out-of-three chance to avoid him. I led Jonas to the right toward the south side. If I were Mack, I would figure I would take the side farthest away from the east. Mack should be going to the west side.
I stayed an arm’s length away from Jonas. I hadn’t patted him down for weapons, and I was still too close if he wanted to pull a knife. I’d be gutted and left writhing on the floor before I had time to react. But I didn’t want him too far away in case he bolted. Too much depended on me doing this right. The lives of two little girls and probably a boy.
On his front hairline above his forehead, going back on his shaved scalp, Jonas had tattooed devil horns. Combined with his blue-gray eyes, he portrayed an aura of evil. How had Jonas devolved to such a monster? My thoughts naturally fled to our kids back home in Costa Rica. I wanted to run to the nearest plane, fly back, take them in my arms, and never let them go. The social welfare system had failed Jonas Mabry. I would not fail my kids.
The handheld FBI radio traffic intensified as the task force officers failed to pick up their target. When I wouldn’t acknowledge their requests for updates, they became more frantic with the prospect of an officer down. I had little time left.
Jonas stepped through the doors first, with me close behind. I expected to see Mack leaning against Mary Beth’s car, arms crossed with an angry, smug expression. I didn’t see anyone who’d give us trouble. I guided us over to Mack’s Thunderbird, stuck my hand under my shirt, took a couple of steps back, and tossed Jonas the keys. “Open the trunk and get in it or I will shoot you down like a dog.”
A smile slowly crept across his face, his lips parting to darkness where his teeth should have been. “You wouldn’t shoot me, Bruno. You saved my life. You wouldn’t take a life you’ve saved. That would be foolish. I owe you a life and I’m here to pay it back. That’s what this is all about. Well, a small part of it, anyway.”
I thought I had figured out his game, and yet his words, when brought out into the world, shook me to the core. My mouth went dry. I struggled for the right words. “I know…I know all about the kids, the type of kids. They’re replacements, aren’t they? Get your ass in the trunk. Do it right now, or I’ll shoot you in the knee and put you in there myself. Because you are going in the trunk one way or the other.” I held those strange eyes and couldn’t look away if I’d wanted to.
He kept his smile. “That’s right, me and Bella took those kids so you’d figure it out and come running. Bella thought of it. She wants to talk to you one last time. She was right, you’re so predictable, Deputy Johnson.” He bent over and picked up the keys. “I’ll get in the trunk. But this part is a waste of time. You will eventually do what we want you do to do.” He unlocked the trunk, left the keys in the lock, and got in, his movements more robotic than human. Drugs. He had to be taking some sort of downer, maybe even angel dust, PCP. I slammed the trunk deck and, for the first time, looked around. Luck still hung with me. Or had it? I now had the devil locked in my trunk and would eventually have to let him out.
I had not thought any further than grabbing Jonas. Maybe I didn’t think I’d get that far. Now I needed a quiet, secluded place to chat with him. Only I couldn’t think straight. What Jonas had said rolled through my thoughts, over and over. Had coming back to the States and grabbing him really been a part of his plan? He’d asked for me in his note. He was obviously deranged and delusional talking about Bella, so the rest of what he said could be discounted as well.
I drove out to Waterman Avenue and headed north. In the trunk, Jonas was quiet, no kicking or yelling. Waterman went straight up into the foothills, and farther up into the mountains. I drove up into the mountains to a wide dirt turnout that led to a fire road blocked with a locked, metal-arm barricade. Others had gone around in four-wheel drive vehicles and knocked down a semi-path. I took Mack’s Thunderbird around. The undercarriage banged and bumped. Still, not a whimper from the trunk. I would have liked it better if he had complained.
The dirt road had developed rain-eroded trenches that grew deeper the farther I ascended. I came to a point where the risk of getting stuck overruled any further travel. We’d gone far enough, no one would hear this far into the hills. I put the car in park right in the dirt path and got out. I stood at the back of the car and tried to get up my nerve to do what had to be done. Three years earlier, before I’d gone to prison, when I still worked with Robby Wicks on the Sheriff’s Violent Crimes Team, this would have been standard operating procedure. I could hear Robby now behind me whispering in my ear: “What’s the matter, pussy? You turn soft? You want your daddy to do this for you? Stand aside, you pussy, I’m only going to show you one more time.”
In the end, Robby had turned into a narcissistic asshole, but I still wished him to appear and help me with this unholy task.
I tried to keep out the image of the child, Jonas Mabry, bleeding in my arms as I rolled code three up Atlantic Avenue, the other deputies risking punishment to blockade the intersections. I shook those images off and pulled the Glock from my waistband, unlocked the trunk, and stepped back.
The trunk deck popped open. I half-expected an evil clown to bob up like a jack-in-the-box.
Jonas didn’t move. Maybe when we bumped across those deep divots he banged his head. Maybe he was knocked out and needed emergency aid. I took a step forward to peer in and caught myself. Don’t fall for a simple trick like that. I stepped back and leveled the gun at the opening. “Come out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
From in the trunk: “What’s the matter, big man? You a scared of a skinny, pencil-necked geek like me?” His voice mimicked a small child.
“Come on out or I’ll shoot some rounds right through the side.”
His hand appeared over the bottom lip of the trunk. “Hold your water, big man. I’m coming out. But we both know you won’t shoot. I’m too important to you right now.” His face appeared next, his smile full with the black hole. He swung his leg out. “You know this is all a waste of time. We should just skip this part and move on to the next.” He climbed out. “You know you can’t make me tell you what you want. You can’t threaten me with death. That’s a bite without teeth. You can’t kill me. You’ll never find those cute little children. And, of course, the big factor with you is that I have super powers. You see, you’d never take a life that you saved, you’d never do it.”