Not Our Daughter

Forty-Nine

Cole was only three steps outside the building, back on the overly crowded sidewalks of Sixth Street, music pumping everywhere, when he suddenly felt a strong hand clutch his left arm from behind. And then a hard pointed object was jabbed squarely into the middle of his back, causing him to grimace. He tried to turn around but was held firmly in place by whoever was behind him. He heard a deep voice at the back of his head.

“No sudden movements. Just walk.”

Cole was shoved forward. The object in his back was obviously a gun. Who was behind him? It was clearly not the FBI. They would’ve identified themselves. The man stayed very close to him, guiding him in and out of sidewalk traffic, never more than a foot away. When they passed the next bar window, Cole took a quick peek over and cursed. The stocky guy. He could see him in the reflection. How was this even possible? How had the guy found them all the way in Austin? Cole was surprised he was not already shot dead. But he knew it was coming soon. The guy was probably just waiting to get clear of the crowd.

Cole felt his heart surge up into his throat. Where were Lisa and Jade? Had this guy already grabbed them? Was that why they didn’t answer the phone? The last question in his head almost made him bend over and vomit all over the sidewalk. Could they already be dead?

They kept walking closely together, weaving in and out of the crowds. Cole looked at all the happy faces coming toward him. Could no one tell the guy had a gun pressed against his back? There was no way to alert them with just his eyes. Cole glanced up ahead, spotted two uniformed officers up on police horses. Before, he wanted no part of them. Now he was desperate to somehow grab their attention without getting shot in the process. But the stocky guy seemed to know exactly what was going through his mind.

“Don’t be stupid, Cole,” the guy whispered into his ear. “Keep walking.”

They moved past the police horsemen. They were approaching the end of the building strip at the next street corner. Cole suspected they would be taking a right. And then he’d probably be shoved into an alley and immediately shot. He had to do something. He had to get away. He had to find his wife and daughter. He refused to believe they were already dead. This couldn’t be the end for them. As expected, they veered off to the right at the next street. The cross sidewalk was thankfully still crowded. He needed more time to figure something out. Was it possible for him to spin and catch the guy in the stomach with an elbow? Could he somehow knock the gun out like he’d been able to do back in the alley in Winter Park? He had to try. He wasn’t going to just stand there and take a bullet.

But then something unexpected happened. Cole heard a loud and hollow thumping sound—like a metal bat hitting a softball—and then the stocky man tumbled forward into him and lost his balance. Cole turned to see what was happening. The guy’s eyes had rolled back in his head. He was trying to grab on to Cole to keep from falling. He gripped Cole’s hoodie, but he couldn’t hold himself up. The gun dropped out of his other hand and hit the sidewalk. Then he let go of Cole’s clothing and toppled face-first to the pavement. Cole heard something crack in the guy’s face. People around them gasped at the sudden violence. Cole spun around, looked behind him. He was stunned to see Lisa standing there holding a short metal pipe of some sort in her shaky hands. Jade was right behind her. He blew out forcefully. They were alive. They hadn’t been apprehended or shot. His wife had just saved him. But how had she known what was happening to him? And why were they in the crowd in the first place? It didn’t matter right now. They weren’t going to stay alive for long if they didn’t immediately get moving. The stocky guy was grunting in pain and already trying to push himself up off the concrete.

“Come on!” Cole yelled at them. “This way!”

Together, they raced forward, away from the stocky guy. They shifted through another group of people before Cole led them into a dirty alley behind the building strip on Sixth Street. It was filled with metal dumpsters, stacks of boxes, trash, and even a few sleeping homeless men. Cole briefly paused to look behind them, searching for the stocky guy, while still yelling at his girls to keep going. How badly was the guy hurt? His skull had taken a beating. Was he still able to pursue them? He got his answer a second later, when the stocky guy suddenly appeared at the end of the alley, stumbling but still moving quickly. Cole spun around, again sprinted forward, his girls just up ahead of him. He then heard the now familiar thump! of the guy’s gun and ducked his head. He felt nothing. Lisa and Jade were still moving. The guy had missed.

“Keep running!” Cole yelled after his girls.

Jade was in front with Lisa behind her. Cole made sure to stay directly behind Lisa in case more bullets started flying. He would do whatever it took to protect his girls right now. But they had to get away. After everything they’d been through for the past thirteen years, they were so close to potential freedom. He had to believe whatever was in Candace’s email—along with the other evidence they had collected—was all they needed to finally prove their innocence. He certainly wanted to get the opportunity.

Another thump! rang out, and Cole saw a box directly in front of them explode. A back door from one of the Sixth Street bars opened ahead. A woman stepped out with two trash bags in her hands and walked over toward a dumpster. Cole saw an opportunity.

“Inside the door!” he yelled toward his girls.

They both listened and darted through the open door into what looked like a busy kitchen area. But Cole didn’t join them. Instead, he shut the door behind them and took off running again. It was a calculated risk. Left with the choice to follow his wife and daughter into a crowded bar or continue pursuing him, Cole guessed the stocky guy would choose him. He sprinted to the end of the alley, stepped out onto another busy sidewalk, and took a glance back. He’d figured right. The stocky guy remained on his heels. Cole spun back around, darted through a side street, barely avoiding being taken out by a black Camaro. He hit the next sidewalk at full speed, ran south toward Fifth Street. He heard another thump! and felt his left earlobe flutter and then start to sting. Had the bullet just hit his ear? Was the shot that close to his head? He had to get off the main sidewalk or the guy would have easy target practice.

He approached a parking garage, hopped over a short concrete wall to get inside, and accelerated up a ramp where cars were stacked up on both sides. Within a couple of seconds, he was out of view from the main level. Cole knew he had a choice to make. Keep running up levels and figure out what to do near the top. Or try to hide and see if he could double back once the stocky guy passed by him. He chose the latter. He would have to hide eventually. He tucked himself in behind a blue Jeep Wrangler with huge mud tires, slid to the floor, and tried to catch his breath. It was difficult. He was panting so hard. Cole reached up, touched his left earlobe, and pulled his hand away. It was covered in blood, which he could now feel dripping down the side of his neck. He had been inches away from death.

Cole held his breath when he suddenly heard shoes sliding on the concrete floor several cars down the ramp. He leaned over and peered out from under the Jeep. The stocky guy. The man had slowed down and was now taking quick glances in between cars as he made his way forward. Cole would have to perfectly time his maneuvering around the front of the Jeep if he didn’t want to be spotted. He scooted on his butt toward the very front of the vehicle. The Jeep’s large tires were helping block him. But was it enough?

The man with the gun was now directly behind the Jeep. Cole stayed perfectly still. It sounded like the guy had stopped walking. Why? Had he been found? Everything inside him wanted to panic, to jump out from the front of the Jeep, and take off sprinting again. It took all his will to remain patient and be still. It felt like he sat there in silence forever, even though it was only seconds. And then he heard shoes again start sliding forward up the ramp. Two cars away. Three cars. Cole started to breathe again. How far up would the guy travel before turning back around again? He needed to bolt before that happened.

Cole inched his way back around to the side of the Jeep and slowly peeked out. The stocky guy was now ten cars up the ramp with his back to him. Cole returned to the front of the Jeep and, while crouched low, began shifting his way in front of other parked cars down the ramp. He froze in front of a BMW sedan when he heard new footsteps approaching up the ramp. Someone was returning to their vehicle. He scooted back down as to not be seen. But his cover got busted when the BMW’s headlights blinked and a man in jeans and a T-shirt slipped in beside the vehicle. At first, the guy didn’t see him. But when he opened his driver door, he glanced forward, and they locked eyes.

“What the hell?” the guy immediately blurted out.

Cole was certain it was loud enough to be heard up the ramp. He bolted upright, peered up the row, and cursed out loud. The stocky guy was already racing back in his direction.

“What’re you doing by my car, man?” the BMW driver said.

But Cole ignored him, slipped around the passenger side, and took off running down the ramp again. He could hear the killer’s shoes slapping hard on the concrete not too far behind him. The guy was relentless. He just never stopped coming. Cole reached the main level and began to make the turn when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Another man stood directly in front of him inside the garage. It was Burns, the FBI agent. Burns raised a gun and pointed it directly at him. Cole felt his heart drop and every part of his body tremble. After all this, he wasn’t going to be killed by the stocky guy. He was going to be shot dead by the FBI. He instantly thought of Jade. She would not have a father at her college graduation. He wouldn’t be there to walk her down the aisle when she got married or hold her child when she began her family. He would never hold Lisa in his arms again and tell her how much he loved her.

But then the agent’s gun shifted away from him, and he started firing off his weapon. Several shots. They were loud—unlike the stocky guy’s gun with the sound suppressor. Cole turned to look back. He saw the stocky guy stumble to his knees, drop his gun, and then collapse face-first onto the concrete.

A younger and taller FBI agent appeared from around the corner. With his gun also drawn, he rushed forward, past Cole, until he finally reached the stocky guy. The agent kicked the guy fully over with his foot. Looking satisfied that the guy was probably dead, the agent holstered his weapon and pulled out his cell phone. Cole turned back around and noticed Agent Burns had also holstered his weapon. Cole felt his chest violently pumping. He dropped to his knees, his heart racing so fast he thought he might have a heart attack. He started taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly to try to calm down. This was a surreal moment, and his body almost couldn’t handle it. It took a moment, but he started to breathe again. He had survived. And he was exactly where he wanted to be right now. With the FBI. With the special agent who had been hunting him down for thirteen long years.

This part of their journey was finally over.

Their next journey would be determined shortly.

Burns stepped up to him. “You all right?”

Cole nodded. Burns offered a hand and helped him up.

“That was a close one,” Burns said.

“Yeah. Way too close. Thank you.”

“Well, I owed you one.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at this very moment.”

“Good. I need to go find my family.”

“We already have them. They’re both okay.”

“Thank God.” He exhaled heavily. “So what now?”

“We go somewhere safe to talk.”