Weep In The Night (12 page)

After Bowen sat, she closed the door and leaned against it. “Start talking.”

He sucked in a breath and kept his gaze fixed on her face. “Cal sent me to find you because he has important news.”

The gun was heavy. She supported her wrist with her left hand and aimed in the general direction of Bowen's chest. “You've already said that. Where's the proof?”

“Cal gave me a code word. He said you would know it and accept me. The word is cooterpeter.”

Sadie's arms trembled. The gun wavered as an icy shudder skated through her. Cooterpeter. That's how Hannah pronounced computer. Caleb would know that. Lonnie Levasseur would not.

She sank onto the bed, gun forgotten. Cal sent Bowen to find her. Why? A hoard of reasons collided in her brain, but none made any sense.

The gun dropped from Sadie's numb fingers. Her voice came out in a tight whisper. “What does he want to tell me?”

Sliding next to her on the bed, Bowen placed an arm around her shoulders. “Brace for it, Sadie. Cal thinks Hannah is alive.”

 

 

 

 

13

 

Bowen caught Sadie before she slipped off the bed. He cradled her head on his shoulder and stroked her cheek.

“Sadie, wake up.” His heart still clenched at her pain-filled moan. What was going through her mind? He couldn't imagine.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she brushed his hand away. “Sam?” She raised her gaze to his face, eyes heavy with confusion. “Bowen, did I hear you right? Hannah may be alive?”

Although he wanted to wrap his arms around her and somehow convince her to trust him, all he did was touch her arm. “Yes. Cal sent me.”

“I heard that part, but what about Hannah?”

Bowen rubbed the lump on the back of his head and flinched. “My assignment was to locate you. Cal didn't give me details about your daughter.” Why hadn't he demanded more information from Cal? Here he was, flying blind and causing misery, when all he wanted to do was comfort.

Sadie stood, steadied herself, and paced to the door and back. “I must talk to him. I need to get back to California. Now. I must go now.” She moved about the room fidgeting and pacing like a hyperactive kid. “Where's my phone? What…I've forgotten his phone number. How can I call him?”

Bowen caught her in mid-stride and gently squeezed her shoulders. “Sadie, calm down. I'll give you the number I have for Cal. I agree we need to get out of here. But first, we have to take care of Kyle. It appears he was after you, too.”

“You mean after me as Sadie or as Debra?”

“You, Sadie. Kyle came after you. He saw your photo with Aaron and Hannah and must have recognized you.”

Swallowing despite the tightening in his throat, he rubbed his thumbs on the soft skin of her neck. He'd come close to botching this assignment. The face of a client who died while under his protection years ago slammed into his memory. Why did he dismiss the holes in Kyle's background so cavalierly? His blunder almost cost Sadie her life and he wouldn't let that happen again. “Your identity has been compromised.”

She pulled away and moved to the door. “I know—you found me.”

“Cal hired
me
. No one else. We can't take a chance on Kyle's motives.”

Anxiety tightened her face. “I must call Griff—”

“He's your WITSEC contact, isn't he?”

She brushed the curls off her forehead and nodded.

Bowen didn't want her to contact the U. S. Marshal, but he would understand if she did. “Is that a good idea? Will he allow you to visit Caleb in California?”

Sadie flopped on the edge of the bed, her hands kneading her thighs. “But he can't stop me. If I leave Austin, it will break my contract and—“

A thump from the living room interrupted her.

“Stay here.” Bowen picked up Kyle's pistol, opened the door, and moved down the hall.

He found Kyle conscious and thrashing about. “Sa…Debra, come here and help me.” If Kyle was after Sadie, Bowen didn't want to confirm her identity.

As Sadie entered the living room, a knock sounded on the front door. She and Bowen exchanged glances.

Bowen whispered, “Quick, help me get Kyle out of here. Let's take him to the bathroom.” He placed the pistol on the kitchen counter and then picked up Kyle's head and shoulders. “You get his legs.”

They carried the thrashing man down the hall and dumped him in the tub.

Eyes wide, breathing hard, Sadie hurried to the front door and peeked through the peephole. She turned to Bowen, who'd followed her, and mouthed, “It's Pete, my neighbor.”

Bowen mouthed back, “Open it, but don't let him in.” He stepped out of the line of sight, picked up the pistol, and positioned himself for another fight.

With the safety chain on, Sadie cracked the door. “Hi, Pete.”

“Came to check on you. We were up with Zack——he's coughing a bunch—and heard loud voices and strange noises.”

“I'm sorry. You know I had company, earlier. While cleaning up, I knocked over a chair.”

“So there's nothing wrong?”

“No. Sorry I disturbed you guys. See you tomorrow.” With the fake smile still plastered on her face, she shut the door.

From the kitchen, Bowen motioned for her to come. “Good job. Now let's get out of here.” He set the weapon on the counter and stepped towards the hall.

Sadie remained glued to the door. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow, and her gaze darted back and forth. Bowen couldn't decide if she was contemplating her next move or if she was frozen in shock. But he had no time to be gentle.

He held out his hand. “Come. I have a plan, but we must hurry.” Bowen put a finger to his lips. “We need to keep our voices down. We don't want Kyle to know what we're doing. You should pack a suitcase.”

“I've changed my mind.” Gone were the erratic eye movements and bloodless cheeks.

“You don't want to see Cal?” What now?

Determination firmed her jaw. “No. Yes. I want to leave right away, but I'm going to call Griff.”

Here it comes. His plan could fall apart in the next second. “Go ahead. Where's a suitcase? I'll get it ready for you.”

Sadie pointed to the hall. “In the closet. Get the big black one.” She punched a number on her phone.

“Stay in here while you talk so Kyle can't hear you.” Bowen hovered in the doorway.

She sat on the sofa, ankles crossed and one leg bouncing up and down. “Hi, Griff. Sorry to bother you so late, but I've got a big problem.”

Bowen joined her on the sofa, watching her face as she listened. Her eyes narrowed, and she bit her lower lip. What was wrong?

Her voice lowered and she frowned. “All right. I'll be in touch.” Sadie's eyes glazed over. All color drained from her face

Bowen slid closer. “What's wrong? Why didn't you tell him?”

But then her eyes sparked with fear as she tensed. “I'm in serious trouble. Griff used our code word. I can't believe…code words, twice in one night. He….I must leave Austin.”

“I know that, but why didn't he come here and tell you?” Her words were making no sense. What could Griff have said to cause such a reaction?

She stood and moved to the hall. “I have to pack.”

“No.” Bowen reached to restrain her. “Tell me here. Kyle—“

“OK.” She entered the kitchen and opened a cabinet. “How will we travel to California? Fly, drive?”

“Drive. Flying will leave a paper trail. Now what about Griff?”

“That'll be a long drive.” Sadie snatched items from the shelves. “We can take these.”

Bowen caught the bottled water six-pack before it slipped off the counter. “We'll have to share the driving.”

Since it seemed Sadie intended to take several items, he found a cloth grocery bag next to the refrigerator and packed the water and boxes of snack bars. “Tell me what Griff said.”

Sadie opened the refrigerator. “We had a plan. We had a code word to use if either of us were in danger. Should I pour out the milk? It'll turn—“

“No. You have to leave everything in place, like you stepped out for a minute. In fact, when you pack, take the hangers too so it doesn't look like clothes are missing.”

She closed the fridge and fled to the bedroom. “But Kyle—“

Bowen set the bag of snacks by the front door and then followed Sadie. As he passed the closet, he retrieved the suitcase and unzipped it on the bed. After closing the bedroom door, he folded his arms and kept out of Sadie's way. “Kyle doesn't know we're leaving together. He can assume. Please tell me more about Griff.”

Sadie snagged items from her dresser drawers and dumped them into the suitcase. “He didn't want to talk. There may have been someone with him.”

On the sidelines, Bowen chomped at the bit. Why had Griff used the code word? Frustration at not being able to help the marshal churned in Bowen's gut. But he had to make getting Sadie safely back to California his first priority.

She gathered clothing from the closet and then haphazardly folded T-shirts, slacks and jeans into the case. Sneakers and a pair of brown shoes topped the pile. Plastic hangers lay in a colorful mess on the bedspread. “That's it. Except my makeup and toiletries. They're in the bathroom.”

“Leave them. We'll stop along the way and purchase what you need. Are you ready? What about the hangers?”

She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the room “I'll throw them in the dumpster. Yes, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Can we stop at an ATM on the way out?”

“No. You don't want to leave a trail.”

“Oh, yeah. I understand. There's not much in my account, anyway.” She raised her strained face to his and held up a finger. “Wait. One more thing.”

Bowen heard her rummaging in the closet. She came out holding a thick brown envelope.

“Ever since I entered WITSEC I've dreaded being at the mercy of others. So I keep a stash of cash for emergencies.” Holding up her treasure, she quirked an eyebrow. “And I think this qualifies as an emergency.” She shoved the envelope deep into her large purse. “I'm ready now.”

Bowen zipped the suitcase and carried it to the small foyer.

Sadie followed with her purse, jacket, and the jumble of hangers. She took one last look around the living room. “You said I must leave everything in place, like I left to run errands. What about the smashed coffee table? That's not normal.”

“Right, but we can't change what happened here. Kyle will talk.” He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“You need to leave it here. You don't want anyone to track your whereabouts.”

Sadie dumped the hangers on the floor and slid the slim phone from her pocket. “But I need phone numbers from it.”

“Like who? You're not going to be calling April or Julian.”

She stared at the screen. “You're right. And I know Griff's number.”

Anxious to be on the road, Bowen shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Delete the numbers and your call history. Authorities can get your records from the phone carrier, but erasing information now will prevent Kyle from accessing it.”

“Right.” She thumbed the keys and then set the phone next to the rose he'd bought her, which sat on a pedestal side table.

When she raised her head, a hint of regret hovered in her eyes.

He had no idea what thoughts raced through her mind, but he had a job to do. “We need to leave.”

“I'll never be back here.” Her shoulders heaved as she blew out a slow sigh. “Another life I have to leave behind.”

Bowen shrugged as he separated a plastic grocery bag from the stash next to the fridge. “Debra Johnson is gone forever.” He stuffed the discarded hangers into the bag and moved to the door.

She scanned the living room. “My photograph.” She found it behind the ficus. “I can't leave my picture here.”

“You should burn it.”

“It's all I have right now. If Hannah's alive—“

“Bring it then. We must leave.”

After burying it in her purse, she adjusted the glasses on her nose. “Guess I don't need these any longer.” As she removed them, Bowen shook his head.

“Uh-uh. Debra wouldn't leave the apartment without them. Take them with you.” He twisted the doorknob, but a muffled thud emanated from the bathroom. “Better check on Kyle.”

Bowen dropped everything and lunged down the hall with Sadie on his heels. They found Kyle on the bathroom floor, the cord around his ankles unraveling, and the shower curtain ripped from the plastic rings.

“Doggone it.” Bowen grabbed Kyle's feet and lashed the cord tighter around them. He checked the cord around his wrists, threw the curtain aside, and then hefted him back into the tub.

“Will he be OK in here?”

“For now.” Bowen closed the door and ushered her back down the hall.

On the way past the kitchen, he stopped at the counter. Kyle's pistol lay next to the container of brownies. Should he take it? Although he'd fired a variety of weapons many times in his line of work, he'd never killed anyone, and he loathed carrying a gun. But he was headed into an unpredictable, and perhaps dangerous, situation.

He shook his head. No sense courting problems with the law by carrying a weapon without a permit.

Once outside, Bowen and Sadie approached the brightly lit parking area, but he slowed at the corner. “I've changed my mind. We need to destroy your phone. Keys?”

Sadie handed them over.

“Dump the hangers, and then come back here and wait. I won't be long.” Bowen left the suitcase and snacks with her and sprinted back to the apartment.

In his haste to seize the phone, he knocked over the vase. Glass shattered on the floor. Water splattered his jeans, and three rose petals lay in the debris like large drops of blood.