No Time To Run (Legal Thriller Featuring Michael Collins, Book 1) (31 page)

“
You okay?”

“
Don’t block the view.” Kermit motioned for Michael to move to the side. “I’m almost there.”

Michael looked at the far wall where Kermit stared intensely. A half-dozen poster boards filled with mathematical equations were taped to it. Kermit’s brow furrowed, and then released. “Nope.” He shook his head. “Lost it,
mi amigo
.”

Kermit pulled himself up to the metal bar that had been screwed into the door’s frame, lifted himself, and then dismounted. A few weeks ago, he had been a drugged-out Nadia Comaneci. Now the descriptor “naked” could be added to the string of adjectives.

“
When was the last time you left this room?”

Kermit looked around, his eyes glazed.

“
The numeric galaxy was out of alignment,
mi primo hermano
.” He made the sign of rain falling to the earth, and then light exploding from the heavens. “Had to force myself to piece it all back together, again, for the good of us all.”

“
Did you do it?”

Kermit stared at the poster boards.

“
Close, very close.” Then he looked at Michael and smiled. “That must be why you’re here. You came back, because the numbers started to get lined up again.”

“
Possible.” Michael picked one of the empty pizza boxes off of the desk and placed it by the over-flowing garbage can. “Can you still help me out?”

Kermit hedged.

“
I don’t know. Got lots of work to do.”

Michael looked at the poster boards.

“
I need you out there helping me, not trapped in here.”

“
You getting back together with Andie?”

“
I don’t know.” Michael answered honestly.

“
Then I can’t help you.” Kermit walked toward the window and relit a half-dozen candles.

“
I need my old friend,” Michael said.

“
Well, she’s an older friend.” Kermit moved to the candles on the television set, and started to light those. “You haven’t really heard her out. Just left us. That breaks the K-Man’s heart.” Kermit took his black magic marker and drew a circle on his bare chest. “Right underneath here, man, lays a broken beat-beat boom-boom.”

“
What do I need to do?”

“
Hear her out.” Kermit said. “And hear me out. That would be a start.”

“
All right.” Michael looked around. “And what about this?” He pointed at the poster boards, and then the candles.

Kermit scratched his head. “Well, there are certain things that are prohibited by the prophet Dr. Moo Yung Song, but if I were to go to the bathroom, say in a minute or two, and at that very moment an act of God were to open up the window and somehow dispose of certain little pieces of paper that are also filled with certain little digits.” Kermit tipped his head to the side as the thought worked through his clouded mind. “The K-man would be very grateful for the fresh start.”

Michael looked at Kermit and nodded.

“
I can sense an act of God coming on.”

CHAPTER SIXTY THREE

A large screen hung from the ceiling of the crowded conference room.

“
When was he apprehended?” Gadd asked, and the United States Ambassador to Mexico responded. The audio coming from the speaker in the center of the table was slightly out of sync with the video picture on the screen, giving the effect of a poorly dubbed foreign movie. “Why has it taken so long to contact me? I’ve got a grand jury investigation going on here.”

Gadd looked at Vatch across the table, while Tammy Duckstein rolled her eyes.

“
We had to confirm that we had the right man.” The ambassador’s tone was proper New England. The private boarding school education and direct hereditary line back to the Mayflower was obvious.

“
And do you?”

“
We believe so,” the ambassador said, “although he is quite larger than the height and weight listed on your information sheet.”

“
What do you mean by larger?” Condescension dripped from every word Vatch spoke. He hated the elites in every form.

“
I don’t know.” The ambassador shrugged. “Just bigger that’s all, but we had a confirmation from the man working at the resort that this was, in fact, Michael Collins.”

“
What about the photographs we sent you?” Gadd asked. The mood in the room, which had been relaxed and excited only moments ago, started to tense.

The ambassador shook his head. “I’m not aware of any photographs.”

“
Electronically,” Vatch said. “I e-mailed all sorts of photos electronically.”

“
I’m sorry.” The ambassador now started looking nervous, himself. “I’m not aware of any photographs, electronic or otherwise.”

“
Hold on.” Gadd leaned over to the young assistant sitting next to her. They conversed, and then Gadd looked back at the ambassador. “We’re going to fax you one right now.” She whispered more instructions to the assistant, and then he disappeared into another room. “You’ve spoken with the man, correct?”

“
Yes,” the ambassador said, “of course I have. This was designated a high priority.”

“
And he didn’t have anything to say?”

“
Well, he was most adamant that we had apprehended the wrong fellow, but they all say that. We can’t. ...” The ambassador turned toward the fax machine beeping and buzzing on the credenza behind him. “Here it is.”

They watched the ambassador, as he waited and watched the fax machine. Finally he pulled a piece of paper out of the tray.

The ambassador’s frame shrunk as he studied the faxed photograph of Michael John Collins. “Oh, my.” He shook his head. “This isn’t right at all.” 

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR

“
Pretty lame ride.” Kermit ran his hand across the dashboard of the newly purchased baby-blue Toyota Camry. $3,000 cash, a handshake, an agreement to delay filing the paperwork with the Department of Motor Vehicles for thirty days, and the car was his. “This ain’t nothing like the El Camino, my friend, that Camino
tener cojones
.”  Kermit reclined the seat a little. “Where is this place, anyway?”

“
We’re getting close.” Michael clicked on the dome light above them so he could see, and then he checked the map. “Should be right up here.” He signaled, and then turned into a dimly lit subdivision.

Snow had begun to fall, not heavy, but the flakes combined with the limited number of street lights made it difficult to navigate.

“
So let me get this straight.” Kermit pressed a button to lock and unlock the door, repeatedly. “Mario Deti, the mobster guy, was a story? He really isn’t connected to this at all. Moore, the geeky L-Man, was making it all up?”

“
That’s what I think.” Michael glanced at Kermit, and then back at the house numbers. “He needed the money back, but didn’t want me to know it was him. He knew I had heard the rumors about Krane, so he let my imagination fill in the gaps.”

“
At least that’s what you think.”

“
Mobsters don’t send greeting cards and trash hotel rooms.”

“
And who is this broad?”

“
She’s not a broad,” Michael said. “Her name is Rhonda Kirchner. Went to law school together, started at the firm at the same time.”

“
Okay.” Kermit stretched his long arms a few inches from the back windshield, and then yawned. “An esquire of the female stripe.” 

Michael slowed down to five miles per hour, trying to read the house numbers and determine whether they were going up or down.

“
Whoa.” Kermit’s hands went from stretched behind his head to straight out in front of him. “You gotta stop man.”

Michael, who had been trying to read house numbers, slammed on the brakes, and the car slid to a stop after only a few feet.

“
Something’s going on.” Kermit looked at the police barricade in front of them.

“
Something.” Michael felt the knot begin to form in his stomach, again, and the screws in his head weren’t too far behind. He turned the car around, and found a place to park a few blocks back. “Wait here. Keep the car running in case we have to clear out in a hurry.”

“
I can’t come with you?”

“
I need you to stay here.” Michael picked up his recently purchased baseball cap and red plastic-rimmed reading glasses. “Lots of cops around.” He buttoned up his new wool pea coat, and then got out of the car, putting the hat and glasses on once he was outside.

Michael walked up the sidewalk, past the police barricades, and then over to a group of neighbors huddled across the street from Rhonda Kirchner’s house. He stood there for a few minutes, and then turned to the man standing next to him. “What happened?”

“
Rhonda,” he said, “a tragedy.” The man paused, wanting to continue, but knowing that in the spirit of good taste he should allow the conversation to unfold more reluctantly.

“
Tom returned home from work with the two kids. Opened the garage door, pulled inside, and saw that Rho’s Volvo station wagon was running.” The neighbor looked around to see if anybody else was listening, and then continued. “That should have been a warning, but Tom didn’t put it together until little Bethy pointed at the car and asked why mommy was sleeping.”

“
How long’s it been?”

“
Ambulance came and took her about two hours ago.” The neighbor nodded toward the ambulance across the street. “Heard they were about finished.”

“
Suicide, case closed.”

“
I guess.” The neighbor shrugged. He didn’t understand the statistics.

According to Johns Hopkins University, lawyers were more than three and a half times more likely to suffer from major depression
than the general population
.  The National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health found that lawyers were more than twice as likely to commit suicide. It was the perfect way for Lowell Moore to get rid of a problem associate who was asking too many questions and interested in the wrong types of things.

Michael broke away from the crowd, and crossed over to the other side of the street.  

“
Tom.” Michael waved. “Tom Kirchner.” He walked up the driveway toward a man who resembled the person in the picture that Michael had seen in Rhonda’s office.

“
Yes.” Tom looked at Michael, weary, his eyes bloodshot. “Can I help you?”

“
I’m a friend of Rhonda.”

“
You are?”

“
Yes,” Michael said, a little too quickly. Skepticism crossed over Tom’s face. “I worked with Rhonda at the firm.”

“
Didn’t think she had any friends there.” Tom’s feelings about the prestigious Wabash, Kramer & Moore were clear.

“
Well, she had me,” Michael said. “Do you mind if we talk?”

Tom looked at his watch. Then he looked at the small crowd of neighbors still standing across the street, each of them wishing that they, too, had come over to get fresh information.

“
I have to see my kids. They’re at Grandma’s house right now, but I need to see them.”

“
Understandable.” Michael took a step away, and then decided that he couldn’t wait. He needed information tonight.

“
You mind if I use the bathroom?” Michael asked. “I drove all this way when I heard the news.” He shrugged. “I’m embarrassed to ask, I really am.”

Tom looked annoyed, but he was too tired to argue.

“
It’s up the stairs and to the left.”

Michael thanked him. He went inside, and headed up the stairs. He felt awful about what he was about to do, but didn’t see any other choice. He was convinced that
Maltow
was the key to understanding what had happened, and that
Maltow
would give him the information that he could use to get Andie out of jail and maybe even save himself.

Instead of taking a left, Michael took a right and walked into Rhonda’s home office. He knew she had to have one. When each associate started at Wabash, Kramer & Moore, the firm provided a $5,000 “grant” for the associate to furnish and set up a home office. That way the associate didn’t have any excuses for not billing several hours every night before they went to bed. Michael still remembered the memo announcing the program, the “Wabash, Kramer & Moore Flex-Schedule,” whatever that meant.

Michael went inside and closed the door behind him.

He immediately went to Rhonda’s computer and turned it on. The computer chimed as it powered up, and then a request for a login name and password appeared on the screen.