The Watchman (11 page)

“Noah, it's Jessie. We have a problem.”

“What's that, Jess?”

“Rachel London is in one of my cells. Patrol just picked up two women high on meth and said they been instructed to put them in when Rachel.”

That was fast work, even for Harry London.

“I know these women, Noah. They're bad news. Rachel wouldn't stand a chance with both of them.”

“Can you help?”

“That's why I called.” She paused for a moment. “I can't stand by and watch this. I have a plan. It's risky, but I think I can pull it off. Meet me at the back of the jail at seven thirty after the shift change. I'll bring Rachel to you. Once you have her, there won't be much time. You'll have to find a place to hide.”

“Are you sure, Jess…?”

“I'm sure.” She hung up.

Thank God for the Jessies of this world. That would solve my immediate problem. I could get Cody, and then pick up Rachel. Keeping them out of sight was my next problem.

Invisible, with a new sense of urgency, I hurried along the alleyway and went inside London's home. A woman who could moonlight as a female Sumo wrestler lounged in a recliner with the television blaring, a six-pack of diet soda, and a bag of potato chips at her side. The sitter, sitting.

I scrutinized the area more closely this time. My rescue might depend on knowing where all the exits were. The master suite lay on the opposite side of the house from Cody. I ducked in, snatched one of Rachel's hooded sweat suits from her closet, and stuffed it inside my jacket. Rachel would need to ditch the orange jumpsuit when she left the jail cell. Next, I went to find Cody.

The open area outside his room was unoccupied. I checked his door. Locked from the outside—key most likely in the dragon lady's pocket.

Mouth pressed close to the door, I whispered, “Cody, it's Noah Adams. Are you all right?”

A muffled cry came through the keyhole, a mixture of joy and fear. “Noah! Are you going to take me to my mom?”

“Shhhh.” We couldn't afford to disturb the keeper of the castle. “I'll come around to your window. When you see me, open the transom and come out on the ledge. Jump and I'll catch you. OK?”

“Y-yes.” His voice trembled. “I'm scared. Is Mom...?”

“She's fine, Cody. When I get you out of here, I'll liberate your mom.”

The whine of a garage door opener echoed up the stairwell, followed by the sound of a car pulling into the garage.

My mouth went dry. Still in stealth mode, I wended my way to the back entry. Ryan and Duncan swung in behind Harry's Beemer.

I hovered behind Harry as the three men gathered beside the patrol car.

Harry leaned against the cruiser's door. “Keep a close eye on my home. I expect Adams to try something. If anything happens to my son, I'll hold you both responsible.”

The two officers looked at each other.

I hurried back to Cody.

I inserted a quiet sense of urgency into my voice. “Cody, your dad's home. I can't get you out now, but I'll be back. I promise. Try to be brave. I'll return for you just as soon as I can.”

“Don't leave me!” Cody's muted sobs came through the door.

Taking him while the Irish twins and Harry were around would put him in danger. I couldn't risk it. I felt like crap. Worse than crap. Cody needed me, depended on me, and I was walking away. The fact I was helpless didn't make me feel any better. I cared more about that kid than I wanted to. Getting involved personally with a client wasn't smart. But then I'd never claimed to be a genius.

Cody was terrified of his father, with good cause. I didn't think London would dare harm him now. The court would be keeping an eye on him since the recent charge of abuse.

As I pulled away from Crown Heights, my phone rang. It was Jessie.

 



 

Hebron County Jail, Hebron, Wyoming

Mad at the world, I returned to the jail twenty minutes before my meeting with Jessie, and I scouted the area for a hiding place. With five minutes to spare, I scurried to the parking lot behind the building.

At seven thirty sharp, the back door open and Jess pushed Rachel outside. She was wearing Jessie's coat.

“Jess,” I whispered.

“Not now, Noah. Get out of here.”

Time wasn't on our side. I didn't know Jess' plan, but as soon as they discover Rachel was missing, the hunt would be on and the street would swarm with cops.

Part of my master plan included the use of an office building nearby. We could wait there until morning. I'd parked the Honda in the tower garage. We hurried down the sidewalk, and I threw a glance down Main Street. We had a two-block walk in plain sight to our destination. No cops yet.

The mist of falling snow dimmed the street lamps outside as Rachel and I sauntered to our sanctuary. Red bows and silver tinsel festooned the streetlights and lamp poles. In all the excitement, I'd forgotten there were only seven days until Christmas.

 



 

Unitas Office Building

We proceeded from the cold into the lobby, then into the elevators. I jimmied the door of an office on the fourth level, a skill I picked up in my brief career as a cop. Once inside, we sat on the floor of a cubicle at the back of the room and waited for the adrenalin rush to pass.

I handed her the jogging suit. “Put this on in the ladies room over there.” I pointed over my shoulder.

When she returned, we used the padded walls of the partition as a backrest, and settled in for the long wait for dawn. Rachel drew up her legs and rested her arms on her knees. Her face flushed with fear and excitement. She leaned toward me, a quiver in her voice. “Have you checked on Cody? Is he OK?”

“Cody's fine. I looked in on him. He's scared, but he's OK for the moment.” I squeezed her hand. “I'll get Cody out once you're safe. Harry will be under close scrutiny by the juvenile authorities. He knows the court will have Cody examined before a hearing. He won't run the risk of abuse, not until the custody issue is settled.” I shifted my position to watch her face. “We do have a problem. The police will notify Harry of your escape and suggest he move Cody. It may take me a while to find him.”

She gave a wry smile. “You don't know Harry. He thinks he's invincible. He'll use Cody as bait to trap you. You'll have to be very careful. Harry's capable of murder.”

“Don't worry about me.” I grinned. “These hands are lethal weapons.”

“Something tells me you might not be kidding.”

Time for a change of subject. “We'll have to make ourselves comfortable here for the night. The search should spread outside the city by morning.” I handed her a plastic-wrapped pack of cheese crackers with peanut butter. “This is dinner. Sorry. But the Shop-In-Grab-It didn't have
Chateaubriand
to go.”

She chuckled. “What, no champagne either?”

“Nope, not even a soda. My pockets were full. But there's water in the cooler in the corner.”

I sought Rachel's gaze in the dim lighting. “If we get out of this, I'll ask George to fly you to the ranch tomorrow.”

“I'm scared. Visions of a life sentence keep flashing before my eyes.”

I touched her arm. “They don't give you life for taking your own son. Don't be frightened. I said a prayer—I have connections in high places. We'll work through this. I had to get you out. Harry could harm you inside the jail. If you die, he automatically gets custody of Cody. We should be safe here until morning.”

I studied her face. “How did you get mixed up with a guy like Harry London?” I already knew most of it.

She sighed and shrugged. “You wouldn't believe how many times I've asked myself that question. As I told you, I'm an orphan, one of the kids who was never adopted. When I turned eighteen, my grades earned me a scholarship at a small college nearby. After graduation, I came to Hebron and went to work in the courthouse. That's where I met Harry.” She leaned back against the padded wall. “He was handsome and wealthy. All the girls in the office vied for his attention. For some reason, he chose me. The men I'd dated before had been about as deep as a salad plate. Harry made me feel special. No one had ever made me feel that way. Lucky me. At least, I thought so back then.”

Her eyes fixed above my head. “He seemed to embody all I'd ever wanted in a husband. I suppose I wanted a father figure, and he was fifteen years older. When he asked me to marry him, I couldn't believe my good fortune. But the ecstasy lasted less than a week after the wedding. He became abusive right away—fractured my wrist two weeks later, and I soon found myself pregnant with no place to go.” She shook her head. “Looking back, I realized there were signs of his dominant nature before we married—things I chose to ignore. He selected where we went, what we ate, and even made suggestions on how I should dress. I'd become accustomed to people at the orphanage controlling my life. His arrogance didn't register until it was too late.”

“Were you aware he had surveillance cameras inside your home?”

Her mouth opened in a tiny gasp. “That's how he always knew when I planned to leave. I didn't think even Harry would stoop that low.” She looked down at her hands. “There's something I haven't told you. My father shot my mother and then committed suicide. He was mentally ill. Harry insisted the courts would never give me custody of Cody with insanity in my family, and like an idiot, I was too frightened to take the chance.”

“Your father's mental illness has no bearing on you or your ability to raise your son.” I handed her my cell phone. “Call Bill. Tell him you're OK, and you'll be home tomorrow. Don't tell him where you are. If anyone asks, he won't have to lie.”

She made the call and returned the phone. “Noah, helping me escape will get you into so much trouble and that poor guard. Why did she help me?” Tears pooled in her eyes, making them glisten in the semi-darkness.

“I was already in trouble, remember? Besides, they may not know I'm involved. As for Jessie, she had a husband like Harry.”

She shook her head. “I don't understand why you've gone out of your way––put your life in jeopardy—to help Cody and me.”

“Because I don't like bullies who beat up pretty ladies and little boys.”

“Oh, Noah.” Rachel moved closer to me and hid her face against my chest.

Sudden sounds caught my attention. A murmur of voices moved in our direction.

I planted my hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. “Someone's coming.”

 

 

 

 

9

 

Unitas Office Building

Motion suspended for a split-second. Placing a finger to my lips, I signaled Rachel to get under the desk. Her face drained of color, her eyes went wide with fear. I leaned close to her ear and spit out a fierce whisper, “Stay put. I'll be back.”

Once out of sight and in furtive mode, I scurried into the small lobby outside the office.

A mass of human activity filled the halls. The manhunt had expanded to the tower's fourth floor. Mentally, I reviewed search protocol from police academy lectures. Within minutes, they would seal off the exits and move in—tighten the circle little by little, until there was no place to hide.

The Christmas lights on the tree in the corner chastised me. In the season of peace and goodwill, I was on the run for charges of kidnapping and had just committed a jailbreak. For a man who believed in the rule of law, I had broken more than my share tonight.

Cops entered each office and hastened down the corridor toward me—guns drawn. The elevator dinged and regurgitated two more uniforms into the melee. Within minutes, they would reach the office where Rachel was hiding. Our trackers moved fast, too fast, down the hallway toward me. Panicked, I searched the area for an escape route. Around the corner, I spied a door below a red fire exit sign—with a crash bar.

Thank You, Jesus.

I hit the bar like a bull through a rodeo gate. The impact set off the alarm above my head, threatening deafness. The angry blasts drove me back into the lobby toward the on-rushing horde of blue uniforms.

I hugged the wall as police trampled past in pursuit like a gaggle of angry geese.

Someone shouted, “She's headed for the stairs, radio Simmons to post guards at the bottom of the stairwell.”

The corridor filled with curses from a burly cop close enough for me to touch. “If she, and whoever helped her escape, gets away, the chief will transfer us out to Fargo, North Dakota.”

I was closer to panic than I wanted to admit, even to myself. But too much was riding on this escape to let these guys mess it up.

Still invisible, I bounded down the stairs behind the boys in blue and set off alarms at levels three and two until I reached the ground floor. More curses ensued as they split up and tried to cover everywhere at once.

As ordered, Simmons stood at the door like a Rottweiler on guard duty. I slipped behind him and my fingers found the perfect pressure point on his neck. He slid to the floor unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. A trick I learned from a SEAL I'd shared a hospital room with in Germany. While we'd waited for our bodies to mend, he'd taught me eight ways to kill or incapacitate a Tango—his name for the bad guys—with my bare hands.

Outside, my accommodating friends had left a couple of squad cars parked at an angle near the building and I hurried to the nearest one. Keys were in the ignition.

Too easy, but I wasn't complaining.

While Hebron's finest chased ghosts below the building's fourth floor, I slid into the car seat and fired up the cruiser. Within minutes, they would find Simmons and the search would go outside.

Operating from the seat of my pants was a bad practice. I had to come up with a plan. A good plan. Driving too fast for safety on the snow-covered streets, I plumbed my mind for somewhere to stash the much-too-conspicuous vehicle. I swooped past the park in the center of town. Like a flash, a mental picture of an old abandoned barn, where I played as a kid, came to mind.