Chapter 30
From Harbortown, they drove back to Vermont. Jack was starting to feel like they were just driving in circles.
“I’ve been thinking about that postcard, and how it sounded like it was written in code,” Tina said from behind the wheel. “Didn’t you say Celine called it ‘that fucking hospital’? Not to mention that someone set your car on fire here.”
“You think the hospital is involved.”
“No, but someone who works there is. Maybe someone connected with Mark Peterson’s old doctor, the one who keeps in touch with him.
I found that strange too, by the way. I don’t think that’s normal procedure.
I don’t think those are normal postcards.
They’re using Peterson and this hospital as a way to pass messages that they don’t want anyone else to see.
Cell phones can be monitored, emails can be hacked. Postcards are old-school technology.”
“When you say ‘they,’ you mean…”
“Adam and possibly the neuropharmacologist, Dr. Choudhoury. What if this smuggling operation isn’t about guns or fentanyl? What if it’s hard-to-get pharmaceuticals?”
Jack drummed his fingers on his thigh. His throat was still rough from his dunk in the harbor, and he would have killed for a shower. “Everyone keeps saying that Adam wants to help people. Maybe he’s doing it by smuggling in psychiatric medication to people who can’t afford it in this country.”
“Hmm, that’s a good point about Adam. Slash Seth slash Lloyd.”
She gave him that look that said, “we’re vibing now, clicking on all cylinders.” He loved that look.
“Is there any chance that Jessie’s working with him?” she asked.
And…there went the good vibes. “I don’t believe she would do that. She’s not a huge fan of psychiatric drugs. My parents put her on a bunch of them before they accepted she’s got her own unique place on the spectrum. Now she only takes something for anxiety.”
“Okay.” Tina didn’t question his assessment. “Then maybe she found out what he was doing and threatened to report him.”
He winced, since that was probably a worst-case scenario.
“She’s alive,” Tina reminded him. “We know that much from the phone call. That’s huge.”
He heaved in a deep breath, hanging onto that fact like a rope around a cleat.
“If this works, we just have to wait for Adam to show up in the hospital parking lot looking for the wheels Celine promised him. If Jessie isn’t with him, we’ll follow him.”
“Or arrest him.” And by “arrest,” he meant “pummel.” His hands itched to get around the throat of this bastard. He wasn’t used to feeling this level of violence percolating inside him; it unnerved him.
“We have no probable cause to arrest him for anything. Yet.” She flashed an encouraging grin at him. “But we’ll get him. One way or another. He needs a car, right?”
“I wonder why he needs one? Doesn’t he already have one?”
“He probably needs one that isn’t registered to him or to a rental agency. He knows that Celine is with the South African security firm billionaire. They can probably find an untraceable car for him.”
That made sense. Jack hauled in another breath to calm his racing heart. They had a plan. The car would be the bait. If Adam/Seth went for it, they’d be one huge step closer to finding Jessie.
“What if it’s a trap?” he said slowly.
“I thought about that. We’ll be careful. We’ll leave a car for him, but keep our distance.”
In Rutland, they rented a silver Toyota Camry and caravanned to the hospital. Tina parked it at the edge of the lot, where no one would be paying much attention—except for them, from their vantage point in the innocuous beige Sentra they’d rented after his Audi burned to a crisp.
Hopefully they’d acted quickly enough so that Celine wouldn’t have gotten word to her brother that her phone was missing. That was where the possibility of a trap came in. But they had to take the chance. They both agreed on that.
Jack kept watch, scanning every car in the lot, and scrutinizing the face of every visitor strolling in or out of the hospital.
It felt strange to be here in the last resting place of his Audi.
Right over there, that’s where it had burst into flames, where he and Tina had very nearly gotten blown to bits.
He didn’t relax until Tina slid into the passenger seat of the Sentra.
“Time to turn on the phone,” she murmured.
Tina pulled up the number of L and texted, Silver Camry.
Be there in an hour, he texted back right away. Thx L
“Okay, we’re on,” Tina murmured. She set the phone on the dashboard in case he texted again. “So listen. When he shows up, just stay in the car, okay? If Jessie is with him, I’ll engage him. You can try to communicate with Jessie.”
“Shouldn’t we call for backup?” he asked.
“Possibly. I’ll make that call once I see what we’re dealing with. Right now, he’s just a guy picking up a car. From the sound of it, he might be willing to talk about what he’s gotten into. If he feels like he’s in over his head, I might look like a lifeline.”
“Or he could drag you down with him,” he muttered. It went against the grain to let her take all the risks.
She patted the holster hidden under her jacket. “I’m prepared for anything. It’s sweet that you’re worried about me.”
He set his teeth. “Of course I’m worried. The guy kidnapped my sister.”
“We don’t yet know what happened—”
“He said he was in over his head.” Those words had been branded into his brain ever since he’d heard them. “That’s enough for me.”
“How about we go through Celine’s phone while we’re waiting?”
She was probably trying to calm him down, but it worked. They cruised through her photo library, which mostly showed scenic shots of sparkling water and selfies of Celine with a cocktail in hand.
“No shots of Hendrik de Vries,” he noticed.
“I guess they aren’t Instagram official yet.” Tina shook her head. “I gotta tell you, the life of a trophy girlfriend looks boring as hell to me.”
He laughed. “It’s like the life of a TV actor. Looks glamorous but it’s long hours and a lot of waiting around.
The phone buzzed. They both froze.
Here, L texted.
Tina let out a breath. “Okay, put the phone away. We need to focus.”
An Uber—identified by the placard in its front windshield—drove slowly into the lot and did a meandering circuit through the aisles of vehicles.
“Could that be him?” He waved at the Uber, which was a blue late-model Honda CRV.
“Maybe.” They were both talking in low tones, as if the driver of the CRV could hear them. The Uber paused just in front of their bait car, the silver Camry. He felt Tina tense next to him.
“Is there a passenger?” he asked. “All I see is one person, looks like a man.”
“Agreed. It’s got to be him.”
The driver’s door opened and someone exited, but from where they were they couldn’t see a face or anything else about him.
“I’m going in,” Tina said tensely. She slipped out of the car and strode along the edge of the lot, scrubby weeds to her left, pavement to her right. Over by the Camry, there was movement, then the slam of a door.
Jack squinted past Tina’s striding form, trying to see what was going on over there.
What happened next was so confusing that he couldn’t make sense of it at first.
Tina dropped to the ground and flattened herself against the pavement. Then, using elbows and knees, she pulled herself into the weeds. Shit. Gunfire? Again? He hadn’t heard any shots, but that was almost more chilling, since whoever was shooting must be using a silencer.
The Uber was back underway, rolling past the beige Sentra, the driver not looking Jack’s way. Whoever was at the wheel wore sunglasses and a baseball cap and could have been anyone trying to stay unrecognizable.
Should he follow the Uber? Rescue Tina? Shit, what to do? He climbed over the gear shift into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.
The Uber was picking up speed now, but it wasn’t headed for the exit of the parking lot. It was headed right for the spot where he’d last seen Tina.
Shit.
Jack jammed his foot on the accelerator and swung the wheel directly toward the Uber. “Hey,” he yelled. “Stop right there!”
A bullet cracked the windshield, sending a spiderweb of splintering grass across the passenger side. Tempered glass, meant to withstand stray rocks and pebbles, but not bullets.
He ducked low and gunned the engine as he raced toward the Uber. He’d never played chicken with another car—that was stunt double territory—but there was always a first time. He intended to hit that car one way or another, either head on, or in its side if it kept on course toward Tina.
Tina was on her feet now, racing through the low grass, hunched over. Who was firing and where from? He didn’t have time to figure that out, since that Uber was only a few yards away from her now.
He roared and honked his horn and hit the gas pedal and then—
The driver of the Uber changed course, wrenching the wheel the other direction. He sped past Jack, too fast for him to get a good look at his face.
But he did see something else, something that sent a bolt of electric energy through him. Someone was lying in the back seat. He couldn’t make out anything about that person, but he did catch a flash of forest green—Jessie’s favorite color.