The Winner (43 page)

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Authors: David Baldacci

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #FIC031000

BOOK: The Winner
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“Believe what? You haven’t told me anything,” he bellowed.

“If I tell you what I know, it’s like I’m putting a pistol against your head and pulling the trigger myself.”

Donovan sighed. “Then why don’t you take me back to my car. I don’t know, LuAnn, I guess I expected more from you. You grew up dirt-poor, raised a kid by yourself, and then got this incredible break. I thought you might give a crap.”

LuAnn put the car in gear and they started off again. She glanced once or twice at him and then started speaking in a very low voice, as though she were afraid of being overheard. “Mr. Donovan, the person who is looking for you right this very minute is not someone you want to mess around with. He told me he’s going to kill you because you might know too much. And he will. Unless you leave right now, he’ll find you for sure and when he does it won’t be pretty. This person can do anything. Anything.”

Donovan snorted and then his face froze. He slowly turned and looked at her as the answer finally hit him. “Including making a poor woman from Georgia rich?”

Donovan saw LuAnn jerk slightly as he said the words. His eyes widened. “Jesus, that’s it, isn’t it? You said this man can do anything. He made you the lottery winner, didn’t he? A woman barely out of her teens running from the police after believing she committed a murder—”

“Mr. Donovan, please.”

“She stops to buy a lottery ticket and then just happens to travel to New York where the lottery drawing is being held. And what do you know, she wins a hundred million bucks.” Donovan slapped the dashboard with the palm of his hand. “Good God, the national lottery was fixed.”

“Mr. Donovan, you have got to let it drop.”

Donovan’s face flushed crimson. “No way, LuAnn. No way am I letting this drop. Like I said, you couldn’t have eluded the NYPD and the FBI all by yourself. You had help, a lot of help. This elaborate cover story you had in Europe. Your ‘perfect’ money managers. This guy set all of it up. All of it, didn’t he? Didn’t he?” LuAnn didn’t answer. “God, I can’t believe I didn’t see it all before. Sitting here talking to you, it just all fell into place. I’ve been drifting in circles for months and now—” He turned sideways in his seat. “You’re not the only one either, are you? The other eleven nonbankrupts? Maybe more. Am I right?”

LuAnn was shaking her head hard. “Please stop.”

“He didn’t do it for free. He must’ve gotten some of your winnings. But, Christ, how did he fix it? Why? What’s he doing with all that money? It can’t be just one guy.” Donovan fired questions left and right. “Who, what, when, why, how?” He gripped her shoulder. “Okay, I’ll accept your statement that whoever is behind this is one very dangerous individual. But don’t discount the power of the press, LuAnn. It’s toppled crooks bigger than this guy. We can do it, if we work together.” When LuAnn didn’t respond, Donovan let go of her shoulder. “All I’m asking is that you think about it, LuAnn. But we don’t have a lot of time.”

When they returned to his car Donovan got out and then poked his head back in the door. “This number will reach me.” He handed across a card. LuAnn didn’t take it.

“I don’t want to know how to reach you. You’ll be safer that way.” LuAnn suddenly reached across and grabbed his hand. Donovan winced from the pressure of her fingers.

“Will you please take this?” She reached in her purse and took out an envelope. “There’s ten thousand dollars in here. Pack your bags, go to the airport, get on a plane, and get the hell out of here. Call me when you get to wherever you’re going and I’ll send enough money to keep you in hotels and restaurants for as long as you want.”

“I don’t want money, LuAnn. I want the truth.”

LuAnn pushed back the urge to scream. “Dammit I’m trying my best to save your life.”

He dropped the card onto her front seat. “You warned me and I appreciate that. But if you won’t help me, I’ll get it from somewhere else. One way or another, this story is being told.” He looked at her ominously. “If this person is half as dangerous as you say he is, you might want to think about getting the hell out of here. My butt may be in the crosshairs now, but it’s only my butt. You’ve got a kid.” He paused again and right before he turned to leave he said, “I hope we both make it through this, LuAnn. I mean that.”

He walked across the parking lot to his car, got in, and drove off. LuAnn watched him go. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaken nerves. Jackson was going to kill the man unless she did something. But what could she do? For one thing, she wasn’t going to tell Jackson about her meeting with Donovan. She looked around the parking lot for any sign of him. But what was the use? He could be anyone. Her heart took another jolt. He could’ve tapped her phone lines. If so he would know about Donovan’s phone call, that they had planned to meet. If he knew that, it was highly likely that he had followed her. Then Jackson would already be tracking Donovan. She looked down the road. Donovan’s car was already out of sight. She slammed her fists into the steering wheel.

Although LuAnn didn’t know it, Jackson had not tapped her phone line. However, as she drove off, she also had no inkling that directly beneath her seat a small transmitter had been affixed to the floorboard. Her entire conversation with Donovan had just been heard by someone else.

C
HAPTER FORTY-ONE

R
iggs turned off the receiving unit and the sounds of LuAnn’s BMW coming through his earphones vanished. He slowly took off the headphones, sat back in his desk chair, and let out a long breath. He had anticipated obtaining some information about LuAnn Tyler and her discussions with the man he now knew to be Thomas Donovan, a newspaper reporter. The name was familiar to Riggs; he had seen the guy’s byline in past years. However, Riggs hadn’t anticipated stumbling across something that had all the earmarks of a major conspiracy.

“Damn.” Riggs stood up and looked out the window of his home office. The trees were stunning, the sky a pale blue that was both dazzling and soothing. To the right a squirrel scampered up a tree, a chestnut secured between its jaws. Farther back, through the thickness of the trees, Riggs could make out a slender procession of deer headed by a six-point buck as they made their way cautiously toward the small spring-fed pond situated on Riggs’s property. So peaceful, so serene, all that he had hoped for. He looked back at the receiving device he had used to listen in on LuAnn and Donovan’s conversation. “LuAnn Tyler,” Riggs said out loud. Not Catherine Savage, not even close, she had said. New identity, new life, far, far away. That was something Riggs could certainly relate to. He eyed the phone, hesitated, then picked it up. The number he was calling had been given to him five years ago, for emergencies, just as, unknown to Riggs, Jackson had provided one to LuAnn ten years ago. Just for emergencies. Well, Riggs decided as he punched in the numbers, he supposed this qualified as such.

An automated voice came on the line. Riggs left a series of numbers and then his name. He spoke slowly in order to let the computer verify the authenticity of his voice patterns. He put down the phone. One minute later it rang. He picked it up.

“That was fast,” Riggs said, sitting back down.

“That number gets our attention. What’s the situation? You in trouble?”

“Not directly. But I’ve come across something I need to check up on.”

“Person, place, or thing?”

“Person.”

“I’m ready, who is it?”

Riggs took a silent breath and hoped to God he was doing the right thing. He would at least hedge his bets until he understood matters a little better. “I need to find out about someone named LuAnn Tyler.”

* * *

LuAnn’s car phone buzzed as she was driving back home.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end of the line made her breathe easier.

“Don’t tell me where you are, Charlie, we can’t be sure this line is safe.” She checked where she was on the road. “Give me twenty minutes and then call me at the prearranged spot.” She hung up. When they had come to the area, they had identified a pay phone at a McDonald’s that would receive incoming calls. That was their safe phone.

Twenty minutes later she was standing at the pay phone, snatching it up on the first ring.

“How’s Lisa?”

Charlie’s tone was low. “Fine, we’re both okay. She’s still bumming, but who can blame the kid.”

“I know. Did she talk to you at all?”

“A little. Although, I think we’re both the enemy as far as she’s concerned right now. That little girl’s playing it close to the vest. Chip off the old block, right?”

“Where is she?”

“Crashed on the bed. We drove all night, and she didn’t sleep much, just stared out the car window.”

“Where are you?”

“Right now we’re at a motel on the outskirts of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, just across the Maryland state line. We had to stop, I was falling asleep at the wheel.”

“You didn’t use a credit card, did you? Jackson can trace that.”

“You think I’m a novice at being on the run? All cash.”

“Any sign that you’ve been followed?”

“I’ve varied my route, gone the interstate, back roads, lots of stops in very public places. I’ve checked every car that even looks remotely familiar. No one’s onto us. How’s it on your end? You hook up with Riggs?”

LuAnn blushed at the question. “You could say that.” She paused and cleared her throat. “I met up with Donovan.”

“Who?”

“The guy from the cottage. His name is Donovan. He’s a reporter.”

“Aw, crap!”

“He knows about the twelve lottery winners.”

“How?”

“It gets complicated, but basically because none of us declared bankruptcy. In fact we all became a lot richer through shrewd investment advice. I guess that’s pretty unusual with lottery winners.”

“Damn, I guess Jackson isn’t infallible.”

“That’s a comforting thought. I’ve got to go. Give me the number there.” Charlie did so.

“I brought the portable cell phone too, LuAnn. You’ve got the number, right?”

“Memorized.”

“I don’t like it that you’re all alone in this. I really don’t.”

“I’m holding my own. I’ve just got to think things through a little. When Jackson shows up again, I want to be ready.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible. The guy’s not human.”

LuAnn hung up the phone and walked back to her car. As unobtrusively as she could, she scanned the parking lot for anyone looking remotely suspicious. But that was the problem: Jackson never looked suspicious.

 

Charlie hung up the phone, checked on Lisa, and then went to the window of the ground-floor motel room. The building was constructed in the shape of a horseshoe so that Charlie was looking out not only at the parking lot but also at the motel units on the other side of the parking lot. He had a habit of checking the parking lots every thirty minutes to see who had pulled in after them. He had selected fairly isolated places that would make it easier to flush out someone who was following them. Despite his sharp scrutiny he could not have seen the pair of binoculars focused on him from the dark recesses of the motel room directly across from his. This person’s car was not in the parking lot because he was not a paying guest of the motel. He had broken into the room when Charlie and Lisa had gone out to eat. The man put down the binoculars and jotted some words down in a notebook before taking up his sentry once again.

C
HAPTER FORTY-TWO

T
he BMW pulled into the front drive. LuAnn sat in the car and stared up at the house. She had not gone home. After driving around for a while, she had decided to come here. The Jeep was there, so he must be as well. She got out of the sedan and walked up the wide steps of the Victorian.

Riggs heard her coming. He was just finishing up his phone call, the paper in front of him covered with notes, more information than he had ever wanted to know. His gut was cramping up just thinking about it all.

He opened the door to her knock and she passed through the doorway without looking at him.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

LuAnn drifted around the room before settling down on the couch and looking up at him with a shrug. “Not all that well, really.” Her voice was listless. Riggs rubbed his eyes and sat down in the chair opposite her.

“Tell me about it.”

“Why? Why in the hell would I want to get you involved in all this?”

He paused and briefly considered what he was about to say. He could walk away from this. She was obviously giving him the opportunity to do so. He could just say you’re right and escort her to the door and out of his life. As he looked at her, so tired, so alone, he spoke quietly and intensely.

“I want to help you.”

“That’s nice, but I really wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“How about ten years ago, Georgia, and you’re running from the cops for a murder you didn’t commit.”

She stared over at him, biting her lip. She wanted desperately to trust the man; it was an almost physiologically compelling need. And yet, as she stared down the hallway to where his study was, where she had previously seen the information he had obtained on her so easily, so quickly, the doubts came flooding back to her. Jackson was suspicious of the man. Who was he? Where had he come from? What had he done in his past life?

When she looked back over at him, he was watching her closely. He read the uncertainty, the suspicions there.

“LuAnn, I know you really don’t know me. Yet. But you
can
trust me.”

“I want to, Matthew. I really do. It’s just—” She stood up and started her ritualistic pacing. “It’s just that I’ve made a habit the last ten years of never trusting anyone. Anyone other than Charlie.”

“Well, Charlie’s not here, and from the looks of things, you’re not going to be able to handle this alone.”

She stiffened at the words. “You’d be surprised at what I can handle.”

“I don’t doubt that. Not at all,” he said in a sincere, if disarming, manner.

“And getting you involved means, ultimately, placing you in danger. That’s not something I want on my conscience.”

“You’d be surprised at how accustomed I am to dangerous things. And people.”

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