An Evil Mind--A Suspense Novel (18 page)

“No.” Paul shook his head.

“Are you satisfied?” Sam asked Eric.

“Have we ever met before?” Eric asked Paul.

“No.” Paul shifted his gaze to Sam.

“Good night, Luke.” Eric headed for the door, and Sam followed him.

When they walked out of the room, Sam explained to Eric what needed to be done next. Then he gave Eric the bank account number that the twenty million was to be wired to. Eric asked Sam to come to his house on Monday at one p.m.

“I’m going to use my home computer to make the wire transfer,” he said. “I want you to verify that all the information is correct before I send the money.”

1

Had Sam Curtis switched bodies?

It was Sunday, December 3. Last night, Mark had watched Curtis’s house from five p.m. to one a.m., with a two-hour break from eight to ten. He had seen no one leave or enter the house, the windows had been dark, and Curtis’s car had been nowhere to be found.

Even if Curtis had gotten a new body, he would still have gone home, wouldn’t he?

Mark checked his watch. It was 9:14 p.m.

Where the hell was Curtis?

Maybe he’s asleep?

Mark got out of his Impala, stretched his back, walked twenty yards down the street, then turned around and went back to his car.

The night was quiet and windless.

He would have to kill Sam Curtis eventually. He simply had no choice: if Curtis was prevented from swapping bodies in a county jail, he would do it later in a state prison. The only prison in Texas where Curtis wouldn’t be able to switch bodies was the death row block at the Allan B. Polunsky Unit, where the inmates were held in single cells for twenty-two hours a day. Curtis was not going to be sentenced to death for attempted murder.

Through the gaps in the blinds Mark could see a huge flat-screen TV in the house in front of which he had parked. Mark got in the car, picked up his phone, and sent Joan a message saying, “I’ll be home by 11.” A minute later, a white Mazda 6 pulled up to the curb in front of Curtis’s house. The driver got out, and when Mark saw his face, he let out a sigh of relief: it was Sam Curtis.

2

Emily Phillips was walking across the parking lot of Hamilton Middle School, where she taught math, when Edward called. She didn’t recognize the number and wondered if it was the parents of one of her students.

“Hi, Mom, this is Edward.”

Emily’s heart jumped when she heard Edward’s voice.

“Eddie? Oh my God!”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“I miss you, Mom.”

“I miss you, too, Eddie.”

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you. Why aren’t you visiting me?”

Emily’s stomach churned with guilt. “We’ve been busy. I’m sorry.” Lying to her son made her feel even more ashamed. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Eddie, honey, we love you. You can call any time you want.” A thick lump formed in Emily’s throat, and tears came to her eyes.

“Did Dad… Did Dad tell you not to visit me?”

“No, no, he didn’t.” Emily wiped the tears away.

“You can tell me the truth, Mom. I won’t be upset.”

Emily sighed heavily. “You know how your father is. His reputation is very important to him.”

“I understand him. Did Dad tell you not to attend my trial?”

“Yes. But I wanted to go. I really did.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Emily got in her Ford Explorer and put her purse on the passenger seat.

“Are they treating you well?”

“I have nothing to complain about.” Edward paused. “I want to see you. Can you come visit me?”

“I’d love to come. Can I visit you on a Saturday?”

“Yes. You can find the visitation schedule on the Internet.”

“I’ll look it up.”

“I miss you so much, Mom. Please come.”

The anguish in Edward’s voice made Emily’s heart twist.

“I will.”

“When?”

“By the end of this month, for sure.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, honey.”

“How’s Dad?”

“He’s fine.”

“Don’t tell him I called you, please.”

“Okay. Oh, I spoke to a police detective from Austin. His name’s Carlos Aguero. Have you met him?”

“Yes, I have.”

“He said they’d commute your sentence if you helped them solve the murder of a woman named Laura Sumner.”

“Let’s talk about it when we meet.”

“I think you should help them if you can.”

“We’ll talk about it when me meet, Mom. My time is up. Goodbye, Mom.”

“Goodbye, honey. I love you.”

Edward hung up.

Emily took a facial tissue from her purse and blotted her eyes.

Her Eddie wanted to see her. He missed her.

Jeff would be mad if she went to see Edward in prison.

In mid-January, Jeff had told her that they should stop visiting Edward in jail. He said that their son was a psycho murderer and that he deserved to be disowned.

“He disgraced our family. From now on, when people talk about us, they’ll say, ‘By the way, their son stabbed a girl to death,’” Jeff said.

Emily told herself she had to comply because Jeff was her husband and she loved him. But the truth was, if she had really wanted to visit Edward in prison or attend his trial, she would have done it. The reason she heeded Jeff’s request was simple: part of her agreed with him.

From time to time Emily wondered if abandoning Edward made her a bad mother. She did not dwell on this subject because she believed that lack of parents’ attention was the least of Edward’s concerns. The only thing a man on death row wished for was freedom, and she couldn’t give it to her son.

She had to visit Edward. Jeff wasn’t going to be mad, because she wouldn’t tell him that she’d met with their son.

1

As he neared the front porch of Eric Pruitt’s marvelous mansion, Sam thought: in just a few hours I’ll be able to afford a house like this. He would be able to afford it even if he paid income tax on the money received from Pruitt (they were going to give Uncle Sam his cut because messing with the IRS was a foolish and dangerous idea).

Sam was dressed in the same suit he’d worn in New Horizons’ office last Saturday.

Eric Pruitt opened the door before Sam could knock on it.

“Please come in.”

They shook hands, and Pruitt led Sam to his study.

“Did you take a cab here?” Pruitt asked, pulling his laptop in front of him.

“Yes.”

“How’s Luke?”

“He’s fine.”

It was a lie. Luke was dead and buried in the woods twenty miles east of Dallas. Sam had killed him the same way he had killed Helen Hinton, Laura Sumner, and hitchhiker Edgar.

“Thank you for saving my son’s life, Jake. I’m extremely grateful to you.”

“You’re very welcome, Eric. Did your son speak to Luke’s parents?”

“Yes, he did. Everything went smoothly.” Pruitt started typing on his laptop.

“Does Paul like his new body?”

“Yes, he does. Are you going to tell Luke who he traded bodies with?”

“No.”

The door swung open, and Ryan and a tall burly man in a dark suit entered the study. Ryan walked over to Sam, reached inside his suit jacket, and pulled out a pistol.

“Get up,” Ryan commanded.

Sam looked from Ryan to Pruitt and then back to Ryan. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Sam felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like it when people pointed guns at him. It took virtually no effort to kill with a pistol, and it was very easy to shoot someone accidentally.

“Eric, what’s going on?” Sam forced a smile.

“He’s got a gun,” Pruitt said. “If I were you, I’d get up.”

Sam rose to his feet.

This motherfucker didn’t want to pay the twenty million!

Were they going to kill him?

Sam’s skin crawled into gooseflesh.

The burly man patted Sam down thoroughly and then said, “He’s clean.”

“Eric, you’re a respectable businessman, and I expect you to keep your end of the bargain,” Sam said.

The burly man drew his gun and pointed it at Sam.

Sam swallowed hard. “Can you lower your guns, please? They make me really uncomfortable.”

Pruitt’s goons ignored his request.

“Eric, can you tell your guys to lower their guns? I’m not going to run, I promise.”

“Everything will be all right, Jake.” Pruitt stepped out from behind his desk. “Cuff him.”

Ryan took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and put them on Sam’s wrists.

“You’re making a big mistake.” Sam glared at Pruitt.

“Get his wallet and phone,” Pruitt said to Ryan.

Ryan pulled Sam’s wallet and disposable phone from his pockets and handed them to Pruitt. Pruitt opened the wallet, looked at it for a moment, and then said, “Let’s go.”

They went to the garage and got in Pruitt’s Mercedes.

Were they taking him to the woods?

“Where are we going?” Sam asked as they drove out of the garage, his palms sweaty, his heart pounding harder than ever.

“You’ll see,” said Pruitt, who sat behind the wheel.

“Is it about money? If twenty million is too much, we can lower the price.”

There was nothing he could do to save himself right now.

It was impossible for him to escape from the car because he was sandwiched between Ryan and the burly man.

“It’s not about money.”

“Then what is it about?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

“If anything happens to me, the company will reverse the procedure and Paul’s consciousness will go back to his old sick body.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“You don’t have to pay us anything. Just let me go.”

“It’s not about money, Jake.”

“We have a lot of powerful friends. If you hurt me, they’re going to destroy you.”

Pruitt laughed. “Please shut up.”

When they entered I-35E northbound, Pruitt ordered Ryan to put a sack on Sam’s head, and he did. About half an hour later the car stopped, and Ryan pulled the sack off.

“Get out,” he said.

Sam climbed out of the Mercedes and saw that they were in a four-car garage. Two of the other three spaces were empty and one was occupied by a silver Ford Explorer.

They entered the house and went to the great room, where Pruitt and Sam sat down across the table from each other.

“Patrick, check the other rooms and see if there’s anyone there,” Pruitt said to the burly man.

When Patrick left, Sam asked, “Where are we?”

“One of my properties.”

“So why did you kidnap me?”

“First, tell me your real name. Is it Jake Ford or Samuel Curtis?”

“Jake Ford.”

“What about the driver’s license in your wallet? It has your picture on it and it’s in the name of Samuel Curtis.”

“Sam Curtis is my alias.”

“Why do you need an alias?”

“For security reasons. Why does it matter? We helped your son, didn’t we?”

“How many people work in your company?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Ten people.”

“Who invented this technology? You?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. If you lie, we’ll kill you.”

“We bought the rights to this technology from the people who developed it.”

“How much did you pay them?”

“I don’t know.”

This motherfucker wanted to steal the consciousness transfer technology!

“What are their names?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t involved in this transaction.”

“Who owns New Horizons?”

“Do you want to buy the company?”

“Yes.”

“Let me talk to my boss. He knows the owners.”

“What’s your boss’s name?”

“John Branson.”

Pruitt pulled out Sam’s phone, opened the contact list, and then said, “There’s no John Branson in your contacts. Are you lying to me, Jake?”

“No, I’m not. It’s my personal phone.”

“I think there’s no John Branson. I think you’re the boss of New Horizons.”

“I’m just an employee. I talk to prospective clients and help perform the procedure.”

“I’m going to send my guys to your company’s office, and I want you to tell your people to give them the equipment used to perform the procedure.”

Patrick walked into the room, and announced, “There’s no one else in the house.”

“Very good,” Pruitt said.

“You’re not going to get away with this, Eric,” Sam said.

“I think I am.” Pruitt stood up, walked over to Sam, and handed him his phone. “Now call the office and tell your people you sent three guys to pick up the equipment. Put the call on speaker.”

“The office is closed today.”

Pruitt took the phone back, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Hi, Lucas,” he said. “Go to the office and see if it’s closed.”

Pruitt sat down, and asked Sam, “Do you have the office keys?”

What was Pruitt going to do when he discovered that there was no consciousness transfer software on those computers?

“Yes,” Sam replied.

“Give them to Ryan.”

Sam fished his keys from his pocket and handed them to Ryan, who stood beside him.

“The yellow keys,” he said.

Pruitt put the phone back to his ear and said, “Yes.” A pause. “Okay. You’ll have the key in forty minutes.” He hung up. “Do you have an alarm system?” he asked Sam.

“No.”

“Take the key to Lucas and then come back,” Pruitt said to Ryan.

“Should I take the Explorer?” Ryan asked.

“Yes. The keys are in the visor.”

Sam glanced at his watch. It was 2:17 p.m. The computers should be delivered here in about two hours.

He had two hours to figure out how to get out of this predicament.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked Pruitt.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.”

Pruitt said nothing.

“When did you decide to rob us?”

“Yesterday.”

I should have switched bodies with Pruitt instead of saving his son’s life.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“If you cooperate, you’ll live.”

2

Ryan came back at a quarter to four. The computers arrived half an hour later. Sam and Jeff had bought six desktops and two servers for their office, and Pruitt’s minions had taken all of them.

Sam was held in a guest bedroom on the second floor, guarded by Patrick and Ryan, while Pruitt’s men carried the computers into the house and set them up. At ten past five Patrick and Ryan escorted Sam into the dining room, where New Horizons’ computers had been installed, and Pruitt said to him, “Now I want you to show me how it’s done.”

The computers sat on the dining table; the people who had delivered them were gone. After three hours of racking his brain, Sam still had no rescue plan. Sooner or later he would have to admit to Pruitt that they hadn’t used computers to transfer Paul’s consciousness to Luke’s body. Would Pruitt let him go if he told him about the ritual?

Sam circled the table, looking intently at the computers, and then said, “We need a brain-scanning cap.”

“What’s that?” Pruitt asked.

“It’s a device that receives electrical signals from the brain and transmits them to the computer. You put it on the subject’s head.”

“Where is it?”

“Peter has it.”

Pruitt grimaced as if he had bitten into a lemon, and said, “Stop lying, Jake.”

“I’m telling you the truth. He’s the chief technician. He brings the cap to the office when we perform the procedure.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Pruitt scowled.

“I forgot. I was in shock.”

“Where does he live?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s his phone number?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. He’s a very secretive guy.”

“How do you communicate with him?”

“Through email.” 

“Is there a procedure scheduled for tonight?”

“No.”

Pruitt pointed at the chair at the head of the table. “Sit down.”

Sam did as told.

“Do you want to live, Jake?” Pruitt asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“In order to get out of this alive, you need to show me how the procedure is performed. If you don’t do it, I’ll blow your brains out. Now tell me where the brain-scanning cap is.”

“Peter’s place.”

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like a swimming cap. It has electrodes and wires on it.”

“And if we search your place in Arlington, we won’t find it?”

“No. I don’t have it. I want to cooperate with you, Eric. I have no reason not to cooperate.”

“Do you live alone?”

“Yes.”

“What’s Peter’s email address?”

Sam gave Pruitt one of his email addresses.

“I want you to log into your email,” Pruitt said.

Sam opened the Internet browser and logged into another of his email accounts. Pruitt stood behind him, and asked, “Is this the email you use to communicate with Peter?”

“Yes.”

“Get up.”

Sam stood up, and Pruitt sat down on the chair.

“Does he live in the Dallas area?” Pruitt clicked the Compose button.

“Yes.”

Pruitt typed the email address provided by Sam into the recipient field of the message. “Does he own a gun?”

“No.”

When Pruitt finished writing the email, he said to Sam, “Read it.”

The message read: “Hi, Peter. Please bring the brain-scanning cap to the office tonight at 9 p.m. We have a new client.”

“Does it look right?” Pruitt asked.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded.

Pruitt clicked the Send button.