Chapter Twenty-two
Morgan sat in the quiet of the empty house. She still held her phone, and half expected to have to use it to call for help when the panic attack came.
But it didn’t come, so she stood, stuck the phone back in her pocket.
She’d work, she thought. She’d take her mind off things with work. Summer would end, and with fall, new drink specials.
She could do some research, and maybe start fleshing out the vague plans she had for Après with Halloween.
She could sit outside and work, let Totally Zen keep her calm and level.
When the doorbell rang, she jumped, felt her chest constrict.
She pushed the air out, telling herself not to give in, and braced on the back of a chair, keeping that air going in and out until she could walk to the door.
Out the window she saw Miles and a man she didn’t recognize.
She opened the door.
“Morgan, Clark Reacher. He’s going to install your home security cameras.”
“My what?”
“Miles laid out what you need, so you don’t need the sales pitch.” Reacher, a man of about forty with a pleasant face and a wiry build, smiled at her. “Best we’ve got.”
“I’ll explain it to her. Why don’t you get started?”
“But—”
Miles just took Morgan’s arm, steered her to the back of the house. “You’ll have security cameras, front, back, and on the side door. Somebody tries to get in, you get an alert. With the doorbell package, you won’t have to look out the window when somebody rings the bell. You just look on your phone, your tablet, whatever. Clark’ll fix it up.”
“I didn’t order this. Did Gram arrange for this?”
“No, I did.”
“But you just can’t—”
“Let’s go outside.”
“Miles, you can’t arrange for all this without talking it over.”
“I did, so I can.” He nudged her outside. “I don’t think I’ll get an argument from your ladies.”
“You’re getting one from me.” She stood her ground. “You can’t have all this installed on someone else’s property. It’s beyond pushy.”
“I’ll give you pushy, but I am having it installed. You, your grandmother, and your mother will have more peace of mind. And so will I.” He waited a single beat. “You wouldn’t take the dog.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!”
“What about when you’re working nights and they’re here alone?”
“That’s not fair.”
Those eyes, those tiger eyes, went jungle fierce. “I don’t care about fair. I have no fucks to give about fair. I thought about what it would be like to lose someone I cared about, someone who mattered. I don’t like it, so it’s not happening. You matter.”
“That’s really not fair.” She turned away, scrubbing her hands over her face.
“I agree there. I didn’t want you to matter, but you do. So this is happening. It’s pushy, it’s not fair. Deal with it.”
She’d never had anyone just order her around. The Colonel hadn’t cared enough; her mother had cajoled.
Now she tried to figure out how to handle it.
“You could have suggested we do something like this. We’d have thought about it.”
“While you’re thinking about it, it’s getting done. If your grandmother wants to have a conversation with me about it, I’ll make myself available.
“I don’t like these damn systems,” he added. “I don’t like the whole idea of them. But right here, right now, it’s necessary.”
“I don’t like being rolled over this way.”
“Don’t blame you a bit. It sucks, and I’ll apologize after that son of a bitch is in a cell. If it’s any consolation, when he gets done here, he’s putting one of these systems on my place. I don’t like it any more than you, but you spend time there.”
She turned back, dropped into a chair. “It makes me feel helpless.”
“That’s stupid, and you’re not. You dented his shield, remember? Now you’ll have one, and he won’t dent yours.”
He sat across from her.
“Part of you still feels coming here, living here makes you a failure, a weak one. That’s bullshit. Coming here, starting over after what happened to you is what proves you’re strong. Strong enough, Morgan, that when someone hands you a shield, you take it and you use it.”
“It’s really unfair when you’re logical.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “It’s just been a day, and still has a ways to go.” She dropped her hands back on the table. “I got an update from the FBI.”
“Okay.”
“I need to walk. Can we just walk around? I need a little Zen.”
“Sure. Give me a second first.”
When he took out his phone, she pressed her fingers to her eyes again. “You have to get back to work. We’ll do all this later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Give me a second.”
He rose, moved away. As he worked with his assistant on some rescheduling, he wondered why a sensible, grounded woman like Morgan found it so hard to accept help.
When he walked back, he held out a hand. “Let’s walk.”
“They don’t have him. I should get that out of the way first.”
“But?”
“He wasn’t in the hotel room when the police went in, but a lot of his things were—clothes, IDs, electronics. And the car he’d gotten when he sold or traded his last victim’s was in the hotel garage. They have the name he used to book the suite. He’d gone out shopping, had some lunch. They have credit card receipts.”
She paused by the fountain, so they stood a moment. He waited while the water fountained and the sunlight struck the copper.
“From the time stamps, they posit he saw the police going into the hotel when he was walking back from his lunch—charged on the card under the new name. It was all about the timing.”
Miles rounded it up. “So they have what he left in the hotel room, have the car.”
“Yes, and more. He walked some distance, caught a bus. They had his new description from the hotel—from witness statements and the lobby cameras. He caught a bus—and they have him on that camera, too. And from where he got off and when, they believe he stole a car from a Walmart parking lot. They have the make and model of the car, the plates. He used the ID he had when I met him to buy gas. They found the car in long-term parking at the airport in Omaha, Nebraska. That’s where they are now.”
“He’s running.”
“That’s what they said, yes. They’re canvassing hotels, motels, car rentals, stolen car reports in Omaha. He didn’t go into the airport. They seem sure of that. He may have stolen another car from that same lot. They’re not sure yet.”
She hadn’t just dented Rozwell’s shield, Miles thought. She’d obliterated it. And that worried him.
“He lost his tools, his equipment.”
“He was carrying a laptop bag when he left the hotel,” Morgan told him. “He has something, but since he used the Luke Hudson Visa card for gas, they think he doesn’t have any ID on him that isn’t compromised. For now.”
“He’d need supplies to make more, and a place to hide while he does. He’s in or around Omaha, Morgan, and you’re not.”
“I know. And I know they’re frustrated. I could hear the frustration in Agent Beck’s voice even though she’s good at sounding very matter-of-fact. Frustration that they were so close, minutes really. And excitement that they were that close.
“So … that’s where we are.”
“He screwed up, and he has to know it.”
He may have felt frustration, but all Morgan heard in his voice was satisfaction. “For someone who knows so much about tech, he didn’t remember to disengage the tracking system. He used the blown ID for gas when he should’ve risked going in, paying cash for it. It would’ve taken them longer to track him that way.”
She hadn’t thought of that. Everything happened so fast. “Maybe.”
“Pretty likely. Some little pump-and-go off the highway. Then the long-term parking—he’s used that ploy before, hasn’t he? Better if he’d changed the plates and driven the stolen car off the road somewhere.”
“Yes. I … Yes.” The sheer coolheaded logic of it calmed her nerves. “It wasn’t smart. He wasn’t smart.”
“He’s headed into sparsely populated areas, why not use that to his advantage? Instead, he goes to a population center. Or take the car in for a cheap paint job, get more miles out of it before ditching it. Check the ads, buy a junker direct from the owner for cash, and get more miles.”
Frowning, she turned to him. “If I’m ever on the run from the law, I want you with me. What would you do next?”
He answered without hesitation. “Change my pattern. Cheap, off-brand motel where nobody gives a shit. Get the supplies I need to change my appearance again and generate a couple of fresh IDs. He has to have access to his money.”
Thinking out loud and wanting to distract her, he walked with her around the yard. “Time for a population center where I’d open accounts in at least two different banks so I could have some funds wired in. Ditch the junker, buy a new car through my new bank accounts. Then I’d continue breaking pattern by finding a scenic and remote area, renting a house or cabin. I’d settle in so I could think about the multitude of ways I’d screwed up.”
He glanced back, saw Clark installing the camera on the back door.
“After enough time had passed,” Miles continued, “I’d book a private plane and fly to … maybe the Canary Islands, and settle in for a nice, long vacation.”
“The Canary Islands?”
“For instance. A lot of miles between here and there. But he’s not going to do all of that.”
“No, he’s not. But why do you say that?”
“The evidence is pretty clear he can’t admit mistakes. If he realizes they tracked the car from South Carolina, it’s not his fault. It’ll be the guy who took the car in trade who’s to blame. Whoever he stole the next car from—their fault it wasn’t filled up with gas so he had to use the old ID.”
“And my fault most of all because I’m alive.”
“That’s right.” He took her by the shoulders, turned her so she could see the installation. “So this is happening. He’s also not going to do all that because the pattern is who he is. He needs the pattern. He may change it briefly, but only because someone else is to blame. But he’ll go back to it. He hasn’t got the guts to uproot his life and plant it somewhere else, in some other way.”
“What you’re not saying is because of that, because of who he is, he’ll have to come here.”
“I don’t have to say what you already know. But the odds have shot up, Morgan, way up, they’ll find him first.”
“Do you really believe that? I’d rather have hard truth than a gentle lie.”
“I do. With everything you’ve just told me, I do believe that. He’s running, he’s panicked, and he’s fucking up. You’re not doing any of that. And he’s alone.” The hands on her shoulders ran down her arms, up again. “You’re not alone.”
“But I have to learn to live with having cameras on the doors.”
“Millions do, apparently, and like it.”
“They’ll help keep my ladies safe when I’m not here at night.” She looked up at him. “But it was pushy.”
“Right. And your point?”
She only sighed, then tipped her head toward his shoulder. “I guess he’d better show me how it all works so I can show the ladies. But I’m not saying thank you, at least not yet.”
“I don’t care. Just like I don’t care you’re going to balk when I say you’re going to start texting me when you get home after closing.”
“Oh, for—”
“One quick text—‘I’m home,’ ‘All clear,’ ‘Fuck off’—sent after you’re inside and locked up.”
“You do know what time I get home.”
“I’m aware.”
Because she couldn’t help herself, she reached out to stroke his cheek. “I’m just going to wake you up.”
“That would be my problem. I’m only asking you to text a couple words. Don’t make me pull out my mother’s rarely used but highly effective guilt power.”
He knew he had her when he saw amusement rather than annoyance in her eyes. “What’s the power?”
“You asked for it.” He adopted a long-suffering tone twined with glittering affection. “I just can’t understand why you’d want me to worry this way. It’s not like you to be so selfish. It’s such a little thing to ask, and would do so much to relieve my mind.”
“Oh, that’s … that’s masterful.”
“She doesn’t use it often. Doesn’t need to,” he added with a hint of aggravation, “as the aftereffects can last for years. Possibly decades. Just a quick text, Morgan, after you’re safe inside.”
No, no one had ordered her around before. And no one but her family, her ladies, had ever worried about her like this.
“A remote version of you watching until I drive out of sight or go into the house. Okay, fine, but don’t blame me for messing up your sleep cycle.”
“Let’s go get that tutorial. He claims there’s nothing to it.”
“I’m not going to thank you for the camera and doorbell thing, but.” Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him. “I’m glad you came by so soon after I got the call about Rozwell. I’m grateful I had you to talk it through with, and appreciate you rearranged things at work so I could. So I’ll say thanks for that.”
“I told you, you matter. Now let’s go find out how this damn thing works, since I’m getting stuck with one, too.”
She took his hands again. “I like that part.”
“Can’t blame you.”
When he left her, Miles called his office and rescheduled something else. He’d work late, make up the time. Unlike a psychopath, he could change patterns and habits when necessary.
So he drove back into town and to the police station.
He considered himself lucky to find Jake in his own office, coffee at his elbow as he scowled at his computer screen.
“Thank Christ! A distraction. Paperwork, the root of all evil. Close the door.” He waved at it. “I’m taking five. Who let you out of the cage at this time of day?”
“My door’s always open.” Even knowing it would taste like overheated tar, Miles helped himself from Jake’s coffeepot. “Have you heard from the feds today?”
Jake propped his feet, clad in his usual black Converse low-tops, on his desk. “Why would you ask?”
“Because I just got an update from Morgan.”
“I haven’t gotten any new information since Morrison let me know they missed him in Kansas City, but found a nice treasure trove in his hotel room. Fucker’s luck’s got to change, but from the look on your face, I’d say it hasn’t changed enough for them to have bagged him.”
“Not yet.”
While Miles filled him in, Jake sat back, sipped his coffee. Someone who didn’t know him well might’ve thought he was drifting off. Miles knew him and very well.
“He’s not only running, he’s leaving a trail. He’s breaking down. He’s not used to things going south on him, and in a lot of ways they’ve headed there since he missed Morgan.”
Not just the same page, Miles thought, but the same paragraph. An advantage of knowing someone a lifetime.
“Do you think he’ll keep running?”
“For a while. He needs to find a hole he can live in, and with, and replace some of what he lost. He needs all that not only to continue what he sees as his work, but to regain his confidence. How can you feel superior when you lost some of the tools that help you feel superior? He’s got to be scared, and he’s got to be pissed.”
“And?”
“If you piss off a rabid dog, Miles, that dog’s bound to go for your throat. Still, there’s a human brain in this rabid dog, so he’s going to do whatever he needs to do to protect himself before he goes for her throat.”
Jake drank more coffee. “You don’t have to ask. We’ll keep patrolling by the house, and I’ll add to that.”
“I had Clark install one of those home surveillance systems—that you can check on your phone. He’s putting one on my place now, since she stays there sometimes.”
Jake let out a snort. “Miles Jameson’s putting one of those smart and fancy security systems on the old homestead? Son, you’ve got it bad.”
“I’ve got what I’ve got. Plus, it’s temporary.”
“Morgan or the system?”
Miles started to speak, then settled for a shrug.
“Well, I gotta say, I never figured you’d settle in on anyone like that high-end brunette. The blonde now, yeah, she’s right up your alley.”
“I don’t have an alley.”
“Pal, we’ve both got alleys. She’s a looker, no doubt, but that runs second or third in your personal alley. She’s fucking resilient, and that lives in your alley along with smart, responsible, and rooted.”
And, Miles realized, the disadvantage of having someone know you for a lifetime.
“She hasn’t had a chance to root.”
“Wants to, though, doesn’t she? That’s easy enough to see. I like her, but even if I didn’t, I’d make sure we do our best to keep her safe.”
“I know it.” Counted on it. “I’ve got to get to work.”
“Me, too. But before that, I should tell you, since I live in the friendship lane of your alley.”
“Alleys have lanes?”
“Ours do. So I’m telling you, I talked your sister into having dinner with me.”
Miles had started to stand, and now sat back. “What?”
“It took some doing, but we had dinner last night, and having worked a chink in that wall, I convinced her to go kayaking next Sunday. None of that should be a big surprise to you, seeing as I told you when we were—what, ten, eleven?—how I was going to marry your sister.”
“You also told me you were going to climb Mount Everest and pitch for the Red Sox.”
“Well, some dreams fade with time, some don’t. Or, in this case, some fade for a while, then come back in strong, bold colors.”
“I don’t want to think about this,” Miles decided. “I don’t want to think about Nell being right up your alley, or the two of you in strong, bold colors. It’s … disturbing.”
Jake only grinned. “I’ve been your best friend for twenty years or so. If you can’t trust me with Nell, then who?”
“You don’t have a sister.”
“That’s true.”
“So I’m not going to think about it.” Now he stood. “Except to say … she’s got soft spots. They may not show, but they’re there.”
“Miles, I’ve known Nell for twenty years, too. I know who she is. I’m going to tell you, the unvarnished truth is she’s a hell of a lot more likely to hurt me than I am her, as she’s been my soft spot off and on since I was ten.”
“Either way I end up pissed off at one of you.” Shaking his head, Miles walked to the door, then stopped. “You and Nell haven’t—”
When he broke off, Jake smiled again, lifted an eyebrow.
“No, no, forget I nearly asked. I don’t want to know.”
He drove back to the resort, intended to go straight to his office, then walked into Nell’s.
“Miles, great. I was just finalizing some of the changes for next week’s picnic, and—”
“Why didn’t you tell me you and Jake were dating?”
Nell angled her head. She looped one of the trio of chains she wore around a finger, smiled at him. “Because that comes under the heading of—what is it now? Oh yeah. None of Your Damn Business.”
“You’re my sister, he’s my oldest, closest friend. That sounds like it falls right into my damn business.”
She picked up the bright blue resort water bottle from her desk. “Miles, you’re not seriously going to attempt to dictate who I date?”
“No, but this is different.”
“In what way?”
“Sister.” He lifted one hand. “Best friend.” Then the other. “And you know Jake’s had half a thing for you for years.”
“One he’s contained admirably, or annoyingly, depending on the viewpoint. Either way, we had dinner and enjoyed ourselves. Alert the media.”
“Knock it off. You’re going kayaking on Sunday.”
Eyes slitted, she slammed the water bottle down again. “Does he tell you everything?”
“No. And I don’t want to know everything. But there’s a goddamn code, Nell. A friend’s dating your sister, he lets you know. It would’ve been nice if my sister let me know she was dating my friend.”
“He’s my friend, too, and it was dinner. Just dinner. If I decide it’s going to be more, that’s my choice and my business. So butt out.”
Now he sat. “I had one date—one—with that … I can’t remember her name. That girl who was part of your high school pack.”
“Candy.”
“Yeah, and the name should’ve put me off. But anyway, one date and you snarled at me for weeks.”
“I’ve matured. How about you?”
“I love you.”
“Back at you, moron.”
“I love Jake.”
“Jesus, Miles, I’m not going to drag him into bed, use him up, then toss him away. Or vice versa. You should know both of us better.”
“Don’t talk about bed.”
Temper dissolved into amusement. “I’m going to sleep with him. There may or may not be a bed involved.”
“Please shut up.”
“If,” she added, “we decide to have another date or two, and if we’re both of that frame of mind. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten to be friends—outside of work—with Morgan. It’s hard for me to find—or make—time to have friends outside of work and family. But we’ve had lunch, and we had drinks. You could almost say we’re dating.”
Now he just covered his face with his hands, scrubbed hard.
“You’re sleeping with her. Should I be worried?”
“Nell—”
“Miles,” she said in the same overly patient tone. “You and I don’t take or make relationships lightly. And though it falls in that same category—None of Your Damn Business—I’ll tell you I’ve had half a thing for Jake for a while.”
“Well, hell. You never said.”
“Remember the heading,” she shot back. “I’m also going to say that seeing what Morgan’s been through, how she’s dealt with it, brought it home to me how quick life and plans can change. If Jake hadn’t asked me out, I’d have asked him. I want to see where it goes. You’ll just have to live with that.”
“I’m going back to not thinking about it.”
“That would be very wise.”
“Morgan.” He got up to grab a Coke out of her cooler. “I was just over there.”
“Notice me not asking you what you were doing over there in the middle of a workday.”
“I’m having one of those camera systems installed on the house.”
“Ah.” She considered, nodded. “That’s a very good idea.”
“She doesn’t like it, but she’ll deal with it. She’d just gotten an update on Rozwell right before I got there. I’m going to give you the highlights, then I have to get going. I’m way behind today. You could fill in the rest of the family.”
“All right.”
She took notes while he told her.
“I’m meeting with Mom in … shit, five minutes. I’ll tell her. Look, let’s grab dinner later, talk this through. You told Jake.”
“Yeah, which is how … all the rest. I’m late.”
“Me, too.” They rose together.
“Hey.” Anger forgotten, she crossed over to hug him. “Don’t worry too much. The more I get to know her, the more I realize how self-reliant she is. Then add she has us, the FBI, and the local police on her side.”
“A rabid dog with a human brain. That’s what Jake called him.”
“That sounds accurate.”
And something, Miles thought, to worry about.