Never Cry Mercy (26 page)

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Authors: L. T. Ryan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Never Cry Mercy
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Reese moaned, then called out in pain. She opened her eyes, flinched and struck out at the air.

"It's OK." I reached for her hand. She fought me off. "Reese, it's Jack. We're all right."

"Jack?" She forced herself up, staring at me as though she hadn't seen me in years. She grabbed her head. "God, it hurts. What happened?"

I told her how I had rigged the truck, and how she had attacked Darrow moments before the vehicle exploded. I explained that the house caught on fire, and that something had struck her, rendering her unconscious.

"Are they dead?" she asked.

"Darrow is." I glanced up at the rear view. It appeared they hadn't followed us. Not closely, at least. I still wasn't certain we were far enough from the house to turn on the lights.

"What about Vernon?" she asked.

"He got away. At least, I assume he did. There were two other trucks when I'd arrived. This was the only one left."

"We have to find him. He could turn everything around and pin it on us."

I had a feeling we'd find him in one of three places. But first, we had to get to town.

"Look around," I said. "Any of this look familiar to you?"

Her ensuing laughter was one of the best sounds I'd ever heard

"What?" I said.

"It all looks the same. Cut on the lights."

"I don't know if we're far enough away yet."

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the open window. The wind created a part in her hair on the left side. "Head northwest. That should bring us near town."

I'd been on a westward trajectory, so making the adjustment didn't require us to pass through harm's way.

"Just keep pushing forward," she said. "We'll be there soon."

And with that, she drifted off again.

Chapter 68

We reached town a couple hours later. The moon expanded against the horizon. Streetlights lit up the perimeter of Texline. I searched the truck before ditching it a quarter mile from town. Came up with a tire iron and not much else. Reese said she had a Smith & Wesson M&P 40 at the house. That'd only do us good if we could reach it. I had a feeling the path would be littered with cops.

We hiked into town, made it there by dawn. We stuck to side streets and backyards. Reese had refused to remain behind with the truck. She'd recovered enough to keep moving, but required assistance over any unavoidable obstacles.

My hope was that Vernon waited at the police station. It was the only place he was safe anymore. Presumably he had surrounded himself with two or three of his best deputies. He would have concocted a story in his favor.

And against ours.

We reached the street behind Reese's place, found a spot to hide that allowed us to keep watch. I stared at darkened windows. Saw nothing. I was partly relieved, and partly disappointed. I'd rather have a showdown and be done with this.

"Let's just go, Jack," Reese said. "What are the chances someone's in there?"

"Better than you think," I said.

"Darrow's gone. His guys aren't gonna bother with us. The townies are idiots, and the rest are recouping, trying to figure out how to pull off that deal. All we have to worry about is Vernon. He can't hide the truth forever. So if they're waiting for us, or they come for us, let them take us. I'll make whatever call I have to and get us moved. OK?"

I nodded. "OK, here's how we do this." I laid out a plan that had Reese staying behind and watch the front entrance after I went inside.

She reached out, pulled me close, kissed me. It hurt like hell, but neither of us stopped for several seconds.

"We don't have to find him," she said. "We can get in there, grab a few things and go, Jack. The two of us, we'll disappear."

I held her hand, gently tracing around the scratch the zip tie had left behind on her wrist. "Then we'll be running. Forever. I don't live like that. Hell, I can't live like that. It's not in my DNA. We have to end this. If you're uncomfortable, then stay behind and let me do it. I'll get you after it's done, then we can go."

She looked down. "I'm just tired. I hurt. And I can't believe all this is happening. I knew about Darrow, but Vernon was my friend, and he was willing to kill me to hide his secret."

"That's one of the deepest parts of men. Let them get away with something truly evil and they'll draw from the darkest part of their souls to protect that which no one else can ever know. You did nothing wrong. And now we have a chance to set everything right. We can put Vernon where he belongs, and stop anyone from profiting on this deal Darrow had set up."

She steeled her face. The tough-as-nails NYPD detective had shown back up. "You're right. Finish this and then we'll leave." She smiled. "I hear Hawaii is beautiful this time of year."

I hopped the fence and sprinted to the corner of the house. The driveway was empty. I only saw half the street, but there was no one there. I leaned against the house, tuning out the chirping birds, the rumbling garbage truck and its squeaky brakes on the other street, and the faint sound of barking dogs.

I slowly made my way to the front. The fifteen feet from the corner of the building to the doorway felt as though they took forever. I was exposed in a way that left me feeling naked.

Someone rushed in from behind.

I turned, arms up ready to fight.

Reese threw her hands in front of her face to deflect the possible blow.

"Jesus," I said. "The hell are you doing?"

"I'm not going to let you face any of this alone, Jack."

"Fair enough, but next time warn me."

I led the way to the door. It was still unlocked, and opened without a problem. I peered around the corner. Dodge sat at the top, ears back, head down, his eyes focused on me. He lowered his head until it rested on his front paws.

"Anyone?" she asked.

"Vernon's dog."

"Dammit. I forgot he was there when we—" she hesitated "—when I was taken."

It was still easy for her to forget Vernon hadn't been on her side at that time.

"I'm going in," I said. "I want you to remain in the foyer, keep the door open a bit and watch outside for anyone coming at us."

I took the stairs one at a time, stepping on the edges to minimize noise. The wolf-like dog remained at the top of the stairs until I was eye level. I reached out to pet him. He stood and turned, disappearing behind the knee wall. I continued to the top, poked my head around the corner. Dodge stood in front of Reese's door now. He looked back at me, made eye contact, went in the room.

"We good down there?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "How about up there?"

"It's quiet. Just need to check out your room."

"What's the dog doing?"

"Don't know. He just went into your room."

"I'm coming up." She let the door fall closed and climbed the stairs.

I moved forward without her, stopping to check the bathroom. There was no need to go inside, I could see it all from outside the doorway. I whistled for Dodge. He didn't come. When I reached the edge of Reese's room, I saw why.

"Jesus."

"What is it?" she asked.

I stepped aside and let her look.

"Vernon," she whispered.

We stood at the side of the bed looking down at the man. He'd found her pistol, and put it to the same use I would have. A single shot through his head. A cloud of blood, skull and brain painted the wall.

I ushered Reese out of the room, then returned for Dodge, slipping a makeshift leash on him in order to get him out of the house. We weren't out there thirty seconds when a cruiser pulled up. Miles got out and raced toward the house. He looked over each of us, his face twisted with confusion. Shaking his head, he composed himself.

"We're too late?" he said.

I nodded. "He's upstairs, in Reese's room."

"Whose room?" Miles said.

"Sorry, Billie's."

"Oh." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of yellow notebook paper. Handed it to me.

I read over a suicide note and confession of sorts. It started off outlining Darrow's final deal. The one he alluded to at the cabin. It was a massive deal, with three working parts consisting of Darrow, a drug cartel, and a terrorist cell. The meeting was to take place the next day.

"I can put you in touch with the right people, Miles. They'll take care of the rest of Darrow's crew, and whoever else shows up for this. I'm sure they'll want to
talk
to all of them."

He nodded as he walked past me, toward the door. "We'll head to the station in a few. I just want to verify the body and call it in."

Reese pressed against me and placed a hand on the notebook paper. Vernon's letter continued with a confession to the murders of Ingrid and Herbie. He admitted that he did it to pin the case on me in hopes that I'd be out of their hair after he'd locked me up. I had trouble accepting that, as Vernon was the one who freed me from the jail cell. There had to have been a reason why, but he didn't make note of it. Perhaps he had regretted what he had done to my sister all those years ago.

Finally, the note ended with him telling his wife and family he was sorry for his sins, and asked them to forgive him for taking his own life.

Miles came back down a few minutes later. Another cruiser pulled up and the female officer joined us.

"Billie," he said. "Would you mind waiting here with Jaimie for the coroner? He's on his way. I want to sit down with Jack and make sure we don't lose any time contacting his people."

"Sure, Miles. I'll wait." She turned to me. "Hurry back?"

"Of course."

She leaned in and kissed me, then whispered in my ear. "I'm not kidding about Hawaii."

I whispered back, "I might have a connection or two there."

Chapter 69

Crystal River, Florida, 1988

Jack and Sean spent the night at the hospital in the same room. John Wiley remained outside their door, working frantically to reach their father. Jack was woken up every hour on the hour when some nurse or doctor poked or prodded or forced him to take a pill. Every time he rose, he remembered the events of the night. First, as a nightmare, but as the sleep faded away, he knew it had happened.

By the time the sun came up, he felt as though he were ready for another night of sleep.

His parents entered the room sometime after seven. Both broke into heavy sobs before reaching their boys. The family huddled together, crying, for several minutes. Wiley remained on the fringes, torn between his police duties, and his duties to his friend. He had to act, though. Every second they worked with no lead, the greater the chance of never finding Molly's killer.

"I'm sorry to do this," John Wiley said, "but we've got to interview your boys."

"Like hell," the elder Noble said. "This is no time for that."

"You understand how this works. I know you do. If we don't get some information now, we'll never know. Do you want Molly's death to go unavenged?"

At that moment it seemed their father was ready to avenge it himself. He lunged at his friend, pinning him to the wall with a hand around his throat.

"That's my daughter, you son of a bitch. You hear me? My daughter. You think I don't care about catching the bastards who did this? Do you?"

The brothers broke away from their mother's grasp and pulled their father off of Wiley.

"Dad," Sean said. "It's OK. It's fresh. Jack and I will talk to them. We'll do it for Molly."

Jack and Sean spoke to multiple detectives the rest of that morning and most of the afternoon, retelling the story start to finish. For some reason two FBI agents questioned them. The boys them everything they could, descriptions of what they remembered from faces, accents, words and names they had heard.

Jack figured with that and the two bodies he'd left for them, they had enough to solve the case.

But it wasn't enough. He learned a little while later that no bodies had been found on the property. The men who had killed Molly had swept the house and property and gathered up their fallen.

The remaining evidence was collected from the home, but in 1988, forensic science was in its infancy. Blood, fabric, and other items were filed away. Despite the best efforts of the police department and FBI, Molly's death remained a mystery. Perhaps one day the case would be revisited, but the family couldn't push it.

The funeral had been the largest the town had ever seen. Molly was buried in the church cemetery in a ceremony only open to family and close friends. In less than twenty years, her mother would join her.

And Jack, Sean and his parents never spent another night in that house.

Chapter 70

I spent an hour at the station with Miles, first detailing the events of the previous twenty-four hours, and then we contacted an old friend at Langley. He took down all the information and let us know he'd disperse it to the proper agencies, and that he'd have someone from his office at the police station within a few hours.

"You need a ride back?" Miles asked me after we'd finished.

I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was just after seven am. "I'm fine walking. Not like it's that far."

"Sorry for everything that happened here, Jack. I know things haven't been perfect in this town. Hell, that's why I left a football scholarship at Baylor and came back. I wanted to help the folks here. People like Herbie and Ingrid, well, they were the lifeblood of this place. Now they're gone, and I can already see that lots of folks are considering moving on. At least the ones who can afford it. Shoot, lack of money's what keeps anyone young here anymore. Not everyone had the kind of opportunities I had. You should see the way some of my old classmates look at me. It's like they curse me for hanging around here."

"Did you know?"

"About Darrow?"

"Him, and that Vernon was mixed up with him."

"I knew some about Darrow, but I thought it was drugs. Little we can do there since he kept that part of his business out of town. I passed along whatever I found to Vernon and he assured me that it was going to the D.E.A. He said the Feds were building a case. Guess that was all a lie." Miles opened a drawer and pulled out a phone. "And Vernon, well, I knew nothing about him and Darrow working together. In fact, I knew little about his past. Only that he grew up here, left for the military, did some contracting afterward, then returned to Texline when he was in his thirties. He took over the department maybe ten or fifteen years ago. Always seemed like a nice enough fella. Everyone liked him. He helped folks out where he could."

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