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Authors: James Raven

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T
HE BULLET HIT
Gideon Crane in the chest and the force of it sent him sprawling backwards into the pool with a loud splash.

Blood from the wound immediately poured into the bright blue water like leaking oil from a stricken ship.

I stared, mesmerized, as his body floated on the surface, a shocked expression frozen on his face. His dead eyes stayed open and his limbs drifted out from his torso to form the shape of a star.

I looked anxiously at his wife, expecting her to turn the gun on me. But she’d already dropped her arm and the weapon was hanging at her side.

She turned to me and I was surprised to see that she appeared so calm and unruffled despite the fact that she had just murdered her own husband. I could see tears in her eyes but they didn’t fall.

‘You need to go, Mr Jordan,’ she said wearily. ‘Someone will have heard the shot. The police and security teams will be here soon.’

‘Are you all right?’ I said.

She nodded. ‘I will be. In time.’

‘What are you going to say to the cops?’

‘I’m going to tell them that he was shot by an intruder.’ Then she held out the pistol. ‘That’s why I want you to take this with you, along with your own gun.’

‘But if it’s registered they’ll know its missing.’

‘This is not my husband’s revolver,’ she said. ‘It’s mine and we’ve never bothered to register it. So please take it.’

I stepped up to her and took the gun.

‘He got what he deserved,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I denied you the pleasure of killing him. You must hate him even more than I do.’

‘At least he’s dead,’ I said.

She took a deep breath. ‘I was there you know. At the execution. I saw you die.’

‘The execution was faked,’ I said.

She creased her brow into a dark V. ‘And the authorities just let you go? That makes no sense.’

I shook my head. ‘I got away from them. They want me dead. I’m on the run. For your own sake don’t tell anyone I was here.’

‘It’ll be our secret,’ she said. ‘But would you tell me why they let you live?’

‘It’s a long story. There’s no time.’

She thought about it a moment and said, ‘If you’re still able to get in touch by phone in the weeks ahead then call me. You’ll have no trouble finding the house number, I’m sure.’

‘So you can satisfy your curiosity?’

‘That’s partly the reason,’ she said. ‘But I also want to send you some of my husband’s money. You lost ten years of your life because of him. He owes you big time. And I feel that I do too.’

I heard the distant shriek of a siren.

‘I’d better go,’ I said, picking up the gun.

‘Good luck, Mr Jordan,’ she said. ‘I think you’re going to need it.’

TEN WEEKS LATER

I
CAME AWAKE
to the shrill sound of a child’s laughter. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. I’d probably dozed off shortly after we finished our picnic. Hardly surprising since I’d downed two glasses of sangria with the sandwiches that Kate had made.

Thankfully I was still wearing my shades so they protected my eyes from the fierce glare of the sun. It was still high in the sky and full of strength.

I sat up, pressing my hands into the soft white sand. Beneath me the multi-coloured towel was wet with my perspiration.

The beach was still pretty crowded and there were lots of people in the sea. They were swimming, splashing, messing around in rubber dinghies.

Kate was at the water’s edge playing with Anna. The sight of them filled me with a deep sense of joy. I stroked my new beard and shoved out a grateful sigh. We were ten weeks into our new lives and there was every reason to believe we had a future.

My name is now Edward Riley. Kate’s name is Cheryl Fuller, and her daughter is Bella.

I bought our new identities from a guy I sought out during two weeks we spent in Mexico City after leaving Texas. It cost me ten
thousand
dollars and for that I obtained ID cards, passports and even social security numbers.

I was confident that the FBI didn’t know where we were. How could they? We’d been careful not to leave a trail.

Our apartment was here in Cancun, with a terrific view of the Gulf
of Mexico. We’d leased it for six months – long enough to decide where we wanted to spend the rest of our lives.

And if we wanted to spend them together.

It was the one good thing to come out of all that had happened. I’d found love again. At least I thought so. Put it this way – I couldn’t imagine a future without Kate, and I was pretty sure she felt the same way about me.

Money was not a problem. With our new IDs we were able to open a joint account with a Mexican bank and deposit fifty thousand dollars of the money I took from Garcia and Cruz. The rest I spent on a car and the apartment.

Plus, I called Pauline Crane from Mexico City as requested and told her about the faked execution and why the Feds did it. True to her word she quickly arranged for the sum of three hundred thousand dollars of her late husband’s money to be paid into an offshore account to which I was given sole access.

Which meant I was rolling in cash!

The story of how an intruder murdered Pauline’s husband
dominated
the media for weeks afterwards. Pauline described how Gideon Crane was outside by their pool enjoying a drink and a cigar when the attack happened. She told the police that she saw the killer from her bedroom window and described him as a black man in his early
twenties
. The cops were still looking for him.

Meanwhile, the FBI had announced that they had identified the man who murdered my sister and two of their agents as well as Frank Larson. According to the Feds the killer was one Raymond Garcia, a San Antonio-based lawyer whose company was under investigation for alleged links with organized crime.

Garcia was conveniently found shot dead in his home but the Feds said there was plenty of evidence linking him to the murders.

It was a smart move by Aaron Vance. He managed to clear up much of the mess he’d created in one fell swoop.

In fact he was still the man of the moment, following the arrests of a dozen or more senior members of the Texas Syndicate. His team had also seized many of the gang’s assets and frozen some of their bank accounts in Panama and the Cayman Islands. According to reports the Feds had been given a ton of incriminating evidence by someone on the inside.

There had been so many big stories around since we fled from Texas
that the flow of news from Huntsville during the past couple of months had attracted very little attention.

But in that time no fewer than five inmates had been executed at the Walls prison. I remembered each of them from my time on death row, along with all the gory details of their crimes. As far as I was concerned they’d all deserved to die. The world was a better and safer place without them.

I just prayed that none of them was actually still alive – courtesy of the federal government.

‘So you’re awake at last,’ Kate said as she walked up the beach towards me with Anna in her arms.

‘You should have woken me,’ I said.

She laughed. ‘You were out to the world.’

She looked beautiful in her bikini. Her slender body was tanned and her dyed blonde hair made a striking contrast.

She sat down beside me and Anna immediately pointed back at the sea.

‘She can’t get enough of it,’ Kate said. ‘She loves it here.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

Kate looked at me and smiled. ‘Do you really think we can make this work, Lee?’

I smiled back at her. ‘Absolutely. Everyone deserves a second chance and this is ours.’

She leaned forward and gave me a long, lingering kiss.

‘What was that for?’ I said.

‘That was for abducting me at gunpoint. If you hadn’t I’d still be living in fear of losing my child – and maybe even my life.’

‘But you’re on the run from the federal government,’ I said. ‘You’re with a guy who’s wanted by the FBI and you’ve been forced to adopt a new identity.’

She laughed again. ‘Exactly. So how did I ever get to be so lucky?’

Rollover

Urban Myth

© James Raven 2013
First published in Great Britain 2013
This edition 2013

ISBN 978 0 7198 1252 1 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1253 8 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1254 5 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7198 0920 0 (print)

Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT

www.halebooks.com

The right of James Raven to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

BOOK: After the Execution
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