The Fugitive's Trail (17 page)

She smiled. “No, just finishing up some paperwork.”

He suspected she was lying; her hair was pulled back and she wore a baggy sweatshirt. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to see you before I leave again.”

The smile on her face disappeared briefly, but she recovered. “That’s disappointing. When do you have to leave?”

As he stood there, weariness spread through his body. He took a deep breath. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow afternoon. But I just decided to postpone the trip for a day.”

She smiled. “I’m in town till next week. I was hoping you’d be home this weekend.”

“I’ll make sure I am.”

Springfield, MO

Determined not to make the same mistakes he made in Chicago, Adam Weber surveyed the security cameras and rear door of the business. Gaining entry was not going to be difficult. He had no plans to steal anything; he just wanted to see the personnel files. Utilizing skills learned from the many characters he had encountered while a US Marshal, he would be able to gain access easily.

After visiting a Walmart store several miles from the office complex, he returned around midnight. He parked his car several blocks away in a residential area and approached the back door to the business under cover of darkness. Weber was now attired in black jeans, a black long-sleeved t-shirt, black gloves, black walking shoes, and a black watch cap. He crouched outside the lighted zone of the security lights and aimed the paintball gun he had purchased at one of the security cameras. It took two shots, but he hit the lens with a dark-red ball, effectively rendering it blind. He repeated the process on the second camera. Placing the paintball gun in his new duffel bag, he quickly walked up to the back door of the office. Working with improvised tools, he had the door unlocked, opened, and closed within thirty seconds. He found the security system panel, recognized the brand, opened the front panel, and disconnected two wires. There would be no alarm.

Satisfied his intrusion was undetected, Weber turned his flashlight on and surveyed the room. Rows of metal shelving held inventory for the business. After studying the contents of the shelves, he frowned. State-of-the-art surveillance and alarm equipment were on every shelf. In addition, the workbenches were occupied by laptops in various states of repair.

He stared at the shelves, then at the door, and back at the shelving. After several moments of indecision, he said, “Fuck it. I’m already here.”

Without hesitation, Weber left the room and walked down the hall. The second office door was labeled “Helen Meyers, Purchasing and HR.” He tried the doorknob and found it locked. Twenty seconds later, he was in the office and looking through the filing cabinets. His search discovered several files of interest, which he photographed with his cell phone.

He glanced at this his watch. Of the ten minutes he was allowing himself inside the office, only six had passed. He kept searching. Finding nothing else of interest, he returned to the back door, reattached the wires on the security system and slipped out.

Weber walked back to his car, opened the driver-side door, and sat behind the wheel. After several deep breaths, the rush of his late-night incursion subsided. He started the engine, powered down a window, and listened. The night was quiet; no police sirens could be heard converging on the area. His concern about a silent alarm, after seeing the sophisticated equipment in the storage room, was unfounded. Smiling, he turned on the headlights and drove out of the neighborhood.

***

Waiting in a darkened alcove several doors east, Joseph stood watching his back door. He also was dressed in black. He smiled as he watched Weber close the back door, quickly walk across the darkened alley, and disappear into the shadows behind the office complex. He checked his watch. The man was in the office for only nine minutes. Unconsciously, he nodded in appreciation. Sandy appeared out of the shadows and crossed to Joseph’s location. “Found it. He was parked about two blocks away on a residential street. Device is safely tucked under the driver’s-side rear bumper.”

“Good, let’s find out where he’s staying.”

***

Sandy Knoll pulled into a parking space at the twenty-four-hour diner next to Adam Weber’s hotel. The Ford Focus with the tracking device was parked on the side of the hotel, several spaces from its north entrance. It was a little after four in the morning as Knoll stepped out of his rental car and looked back at the diner. There was a table next to a window with a perfect view of Weber’s car. He smiled and entered the diner.

Two hours, seven cups of coffee, and an early-morning breakfast special later, Knoll observed Weber exit the hotel. He watched as the man threw a suitcase into the trunk of his rental car and got into the driver’s seat. Knoll looked at his bill, placed a twenty on the table, and headed for his car.

Weber drove toward the interstate, a quarter of a mile north of the hotel. He took the westbound exit and headed toward the airport. Knoll followed five cars behind. Twenty minutes later, he was parked in the airport’s short-term parking area with a clear view of the rental car lot. Weber had returned the car to the rental agency and was now walking into the terminal. As Knoll entered the airport building, he caught a glimpse of Weber walking toward the security area. He paused next to a coffee shop, watched as the man went through security and proceed toward his gate.

After showing his military ID and a brief discussion with the head of the local TSA contingency, Knoll gained access to the gate area. He spotted Weber talking on his cell phone at an American Airlines gate, from which a 7:45 a.m. flight to Dallas was scheduled to depart. The flight appeared to be full as the waiting area was crowded. Knoll found an empty chair several rows away, with a clear view of Weber. He watched and waited until the flight to Dallas was announced. When the second boarding group was called, Weber ended the call, stood, walked to the gate, and handed his boarding pass to the attendant. Once he was through the gate entrance, he disappeared from Knoll’s sight. Twenty minutes later, the jet bridge rolled away from the plane.

Once the commuter jet was pushed away from the gate and rolling toward the runway, he quickly walked toward the security area exit. It took several minutes to leave the terminal and locate the rental car Weber had been driving.

Knoll glanced around, bent down, and retrieved the small device he had placed inside the driver side rear fender the previous evening. As he slowly walked back to his own rental, he watched the commuter jet lift off, gain altitude, and disappear into low-lying clouds headed southwest.

After paying the parking fee and exiting the airport grounds, Knoll dialed a number on his cell phone. It was answered on the second ring. “He just took off on a flight headed for Dallas.”

Joseph was silent for a few moments. “That was too easy. Do you think he found the device?”

“I can’t say. It didn’t appear to have been disturbed.”

“Okay. We won’t assume he’s finished here. We’ll keep the watch going on JR’s condo. In the meantime, go on back to your hotel and get some sleep.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be back midafternoon.”

***

Alton Crigler listened as two senior vice presidents heatedly argued the true value and profitability of a company P&G Global was preparing to buy. His cell phone vibrated. He glanced at the caller ID and answered the call. “Just a moment.” He cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, I believe we have debated this topic to death. Put your arguments on paper, and we’ll reconvene this afternoon. I need to take this phone call.” He stood and walked out of the conference room and returned to his desk. “Good morning, Adam. Where are you?”

“Dallas.”

“Do you have any news for me?”

“Yes—I found him.”

“In Dallas?”

“No, Springfield, Missouri.”

“Never heard of it. Is it close to St. Louis?”

“No, it’s in the southwestern corner of the state, close to Arkansas and Kansas.”

“Still haven’t heard of it. Does he know you’ve found him?”

“No.” Weber paused, trying to decide how much to reveal at this point. “There could be a few complications.”

“How so?”

“He has help.”

“What do you mean
help
?”

“At this point I haven’t actually seen him, but all indications point toward this being the correct location.”

Crigler didn’t say anything for several moments. “Then why are you in Dallas?”

“While I was examining the company’s personnel records, someone planted a tracking device on my car. I let them follow me to the airport and watch as I left for Dallas. I’m switching to another ID and flying back in a couple of hours.”

“I’m not going to ask how you examined their records; I can only imagine. Confirm the fugitive is there and get back to me.”

***

The call ended abruptly. Without comment, Weber stood, placed the phone in his pocket, and headed toward an exit and the ticketing counters. He would be back in Springfield by early afternoon.

At 4:00 p.m., Weber was parked on a residential street across from the office complex containing Ozark Computer Security. A busy street separated his location from the complex, and the elevation was higher. Through high-powered binoculars bought at a nearby Bass Pro Shop, he watched the entrance to the office. Now it was a simple matter of watching and waiting for someone to leave.

At fifteen minutes after five, a woman exited the office door and walked quickly to a five-year-old Honda Accord parked fifty feet from the entrance. Weber recognized her from several pictures in the office where he had found the personnel records. This was Helen Meyers. He watched as she backed her car out of the parking slot and drove to an exit leading to a busy east–west artery of the city. Weber started his car and was about to follow her when a large man, whom he recognized from the airport earlier in the day, stepped out of the building followed by a tall black man. The black man held the door open as the two conversed. They shook hands and the larger man walked to a parked GMC Denali. The black man closed the door and remained in the building.

Weber’s first instinct was to follow the woman, but at the last second he decided to follow the SUV. If it was a dead end, he’d wait until tomorrow and follow the woman. The Denali turned out of the parking lot and headed east. Weber stayed several cars behind and was almost stopped by a traffic light, but blew through it just as it turned red. The GMC turned off the busy thoroughfare and headed toward the center of the city. Fifteen minutes later, the SUV pulled into the parking lot of a three-story building near downtown. The big man exited the vehicle and entered the building.

Weber waited patiently and finally after an hour, a gray Toyota Camry pulled into a parking spot near the front entrance to the building. The passenger side was facing Weber, and a petite oriental woman stepped out, stood, and stretched. A man emerged from the driver’s side. Weber trained his binoculars on the man as he turned his face toward the woman. Weber smiled. As he watched, the big man came out of the building and shook hands with the fugitive. The two of them walked back to the trunk of the car, where the fugitive said something to the girl, who shook the hand of the big man. Luggage was taken from the trunk and they all entered the building.

Weber pressed the send icon on his cell phone; it was answered on the first ring.

“Where are you?”

“Back in Springfield.”

“And…”

“Found him. I just watched him enter a building.”

Crigler was silent for a few moments. “How many people are helping him?”

“I’m not sure, at this point. I know of at least two. One looks military. There’s also a girl. What do you want me to do?”

More silence. Finally Crigler said, “Find out the name he’s using, plus everything you can about him. Then we’ll talk again.” The call ended again without another word.

Weber got out of his rental car, which was across the street from the three-story building in a larger parking lot. Several restaurants and small shops were located north of where he was parked. It was approaching dusk as he entered one of the restaurants and found a seat by the front window. The location gave him a view of the fugitive’s building. He ordered a beer, sat back, and waited for it to get dark. An hour after sunset, he paid for his beer and left the restaurant. Casually crossing the street to the parking lot containing the Camry, he used his cell phone to take a picture of the license plate. After returning to his car and writing down the building’s address, he backed the car out of the parking slot and left the area.

***

Sandy Knoll stood looking out one of JR’s apartment windows, drinking a beer while the couple unpacked from their trip. He watched a man cross the street at the north edge of the building’s parking lot. The man stopped, looked around, and stared up at the building. After a few moments, he calmly walked up to JR’s gray Camry, took a cell phone out of his pocket, and pointed it at the back of the car. Knoll quickly said, “JR, do you have security cameras watching the parking lot?”

JR walked into the living room from the back part of the apartment. “Yeah, several, why?”

“I can’t be sure. It’s too dark out there, but I think the guy who broke into Joseph’s office last night is back. He just took a picture of your car’s license plate.”

JR disappeared into the computer room as Knoll stayed at the window watching the man cross the street to a car in the parking lot across from the condo. JR returned and handed Sandy a sheet of paper with a picture on it. The shot was from above, but it caught the man’s face as he surveyed the building. Sandy nodded. “Yeah, that’s him. It appears we screwed up and lead him right to you JR. Sorry.”