Fugitive Justice (14 page)

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Hank, do I look stupid enough to be involved in this?”

“Of course not,” Hank said. “That’s what bothers me so much. Knowing you like I do, it’s impossible, and yet …”

“Hank, are you saying you have nothing you can tell me? Nothing at all that’ll help me?”

Hank shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Whatever happens here, I want you to promise you’ll leave Sammy out of this. He believes me, and he’s only trying to help.”

“I won’t touch Sammy,” Hank said and shrugged. “Besides, he’s not here and I haven’t seen you with him. You only happen to be near where he lives.”

Jake offered a slight smile of thanks.

“King’s out there looking for anything he can find from his CIs,” Hank said. “And I assume you have Sammy doing the same.”

“He might be,” Jake said. “If he is, it’s because he wants to help me.”

Hank nodded.

“Are you gonna let me go?” Jake asked.

“I still can’t do that, Jake. You should know that.”

“Are you gonna shoot me?”

“It won’t come to that.”

“Then I’m leaving,” Jake said. He turned his back and strode up the riverbank.

Hank took a few steps forward, a shaky hand gripping his weapon. Then he stopped, the gun remaining firmly in its holster as he watched his friend disappear from view.

Had he failed?

There was no doubt he’d failed to uphold his oath as a cop. But as a friend, he was bound by another oath, an unwritten one he found impossible to break.

Chapter 22

Wednesday, 10:56 a.m.

JAKE WAITED OUT OF sight a few minutes and then carefully worked his way back toward Sammy’s castle. Hank was nowhere in sight. Jake climbed up the bank and poked his head over the concrete abutment to ensure the coast was clear. It was. The cop had gone.

He knew Hank was only doing his job, and once this was all over, he wouldn’t hold it against his friend. Besides, Hank had let him go without much of an argument, and Jake had a suspicion the incident wouldn’t appear anywhere in Hank’s reports. There was a reason Hank had come alone.

To be safe, Jake would no longer be able to hide out with Sammy. He’d have to find a safe place—one Hank would never discover. The cop might not be so accommodating next time.

Sammy had left a couple of hours ago, determined to get some information that would help Jake. The man was certain somebody knew more than they were telling, and he was going to keep at it until convinced otherwise.

Jake wasn’t so optimistic. Hank had said he had nothing that would help clear Jake. And when Jake had talked to Annie earlier, she’d had nothing to go on, either. Though he’d wracked his brain for the last twenty-four hours, he’d come up completely dry.

Annie had told him the news of his fugitive status still hadn’t reached the press, so as long as he steered clear of cops, he should be free to come and go as he wished. And that’s what he was going to do.

He ducked under the overpass, retrieved the beautiful pink bicycle Sammy had procured for him, and dragged it up to the street. He hopped on, feeling like a circus clown riding a miniature bike around the ring. His long legs buckled and stuck out at awkward angles, but he managed to stay upright and was soon pedaling like mad down the street.

Pulling into the nearest coffee shop, he was pleased to see they offered free Wi-Fi. He propped the bike against a brick wall, pulled his cap down low, and went inside and bought a coffee and a thick steak sandwich, giving him access to the Wi-Fi password.

He selected a booth in the corner, took a sip of coffee, and pulled the iPad out from behind his belt.

After a quick search, he found the address and phone number for Richmond Realty. He hesitated a moment, then pulled out the burner phone and dialed the listed number, asking for Niles Overstone.

The female receptionist gave a curt reply. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Overstone isn’t in today.”

“Do you know where he is?” Jake asked. “He’s supposed to be showing me a house this morning.”

He heard her fingernails tapping on her keyboard, then she said, “I don’t see any appointments for today, although he’s expected in briefly a little later. Perhaps there’s been a mix-up in his schedule. Would you like his cell phone number?”

“No, thanks. I have it. What time are you expecting him?”

“Around noon, but it might be better if you call him yourself and confirm your appointment.”

“I’ll do that,” Jake said and hung up.

He looked at his watch. He’d be able to finish his snack and get to Richmond Realty with time to spare.

According to Annie, Overstone had spent most of the previous day at the hospital. He hoped the man would show up at the office on time. It might be Jake’s only chance to confront him.

He sipped his coffee and studied Overstone’s smiling face from his web page profile, prominently featured on Richmond Realty’s website. He looked pretty much the same as in the photo Merrilla had given him. One of the company’s top realtors, his page boasted higher prices when you sell and lower when you buy. Jake didn’t understand how you could have both.

He finished his meal, then went back outside and hopped on the bike, keeping an eye out for police as he sped down the street toward his destination. Half an hour later, he turned into Midtown Plaza and glanced around.

Richmond Realty operated from a storefront at the far end of the plaza. Jake wheeled around behind the unit to the employee parking area, propped the bike against the end of a dumpster, and looked around.

A handful of parking slots were occupied, but since it was not yet noon, he crossed the wide lane and sat on a curb opposite the parking area and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, a white Lexus appeared. It pulled down the lane and into a parking slot, and Jake strained to see the driver. It was Overstone.

He hopped up and reached the side of the car as Niles Overstone stepped out. The man shut the door and turned around, startled to see someone standing in front of him.

Then Overstone recognized Jake and his eyes widened. He edged away, coming to a stop with his back against the car door. As the agitated man glanced around and looked for an escape route, Jake moved in, standing inches away.

Overstone cowered back. “What … what’re you doing here?”

Jake crossed his arms and glared. “I need to talk to you.”

“What about? You … you shot my wife. What do we have to talk about?”

“I didn’t shoot your wife.”

“And you robbed the bank.”

Jake leaned in. “I didn’t rob the bank.”

“Merrilla told me she recognized the bank robber when his mask came off. He was looking right at her.”

“Did she say it was me?”

Overstone frowned. “She didn’t have to. I know it was you, and so do the police. And … and there was a witness.”

Jake backed up half a step. “Mr. Overstone, I didn’t shoot your wife, and if you have any knowledge of who it might’ve been, then you’d better tell me.” Jake paused. “Otherwise, the shooter’s still out there somewhere, and he might be coming for you next.”

“Why would anyone want me dead?” Overstone asked.

“Because he might think your wife told you who he was.”

“Is that why you’re here? To kill me now?”

Jake laughed. “I’m on your side, Overstone. If I wanted to kill you, would I be bothering to talk to you right now?”

Overstone gave Jake a dubious look, then reached a hand inside his jacket. “I’m calling the police,” he said, removing a cell phone.

Jake put a hand on the phone, preventing Overstone from dialing. “Why’re you so anxious to have me arrested? Mr. Overstone, did you shoot your wife? Or hire someone to do it?”

Overstone’s frown deepened, and he pulled his hand free and stepped aside, keeping one eye on Jake while he dialed.

Jake shook his head and walked away. It would take the police a while to get here, so that didn’t concern him. But what bothered him was Overstone wouldn’t listen to reason, and there was no doubt in Jake’s mind the man’s life might be in danger.

He wheeled the bike out to the sidewalk and hopped on. Glancing back, he saw Overstone getting into his car. Jake assumed the man would lock his doors, cower in fear, and wait for the police.

If the killer eventually came after Overstone, would Jake be the target of another frame job? That was something he couldn’t help. As a fugitive, he had no way of establishing an alibi. It was a perfect storm, and Jake was caught in the middle of it with no means of protection.

Jake had gotten a good enough view of the killer as he watched him enter the Overstone house, and he was convinced it wasn’t Niles Overstone himself. But he wasn’t so convinced the man hadn’t arranged his own wife’s shooting. If that was the case, then was Overstone involved in the bank robbery as well?

Or, if what Overstone had said was true, that his wife had recognized the robber, then who could it be? What was the connection between Merrilla Overstone and the real killer?

Those were questions Jake had to find answers for. But he was severely hampered in his movement and, other than Overstone’s possible involvement, he had no theory or suspects.

Chapter 23

Wednesday, 12:14 p.m.

ANNIE HUNG UP THE phone and slouched back in her swivel chair. They hadn’t made much headway on proving Jake’s innocence, and she was emotionally exhausted.

Jake had just called her and told her about his confrontation with Niles Overstone. Her encounter with the man earlier hadn’t amounted to anything more than Jake’s had. If Overstone was involved in something criminal, he was covering himself pretty well, playing the part of a distraught husband to perfection.

When the doorbell rang, she pushed back her chair and went to answer it. She pressed an eye to the peephole and frowned at the face of Lisa Krunk.

Annie opened the door. Lisa had an unusually pleasant look on her face. Annie couldn’t help but notice the lack of a microphone that usually seemed to be permanently fastened to the newswoman’s hand.

“Good afternoon, Annie,” Lisa said, her lips curling into a sincere smile.

“You should call first.”

Lisa’s wide, smiling mouth widened even more. “I was in the neighborhood, and I saw a car in the driveway. Did you get a new vehicle?”

Annie suppressing a frustrated sigh. “Yes, it’s new. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to talk to you about the case you’re working on.”

“What case?”

“The Overstone shooting.”

How could Lisa possibly know about that? She and Jake hadn’t been publicly involved in any investigations regarding either the bank robbery or the shooting of Merrilla Overstone.

Annie leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “What makes you think we’re looking into that?” she asked.

A hint of a knowing smile appeared on Lisa’s face. “I can’t reveal my sources, but I’ve received certain information that proves you’re not only looking into it, but you and Jake are both heavily involved.”

Annie glanced toward the road. The Channel 7 Action News van was parked at the curb, and she could make out someone in the driver seat. If Lisa had been hoping for an interview, Don would’ve been right behind her, his camera ready to capture every word. Annie decided Lisa had something more in mind than an on-camera interview.

“Get to the point, Lisa. I have things to do.”

Lisa disregarded the comment. “Can I come in a moment? I have a proposition for you.”

Annie frowned at the woman and unfurled her arms. She stepped back and waved Lisa in, then led her into the living room and motioned toward the couch.

Lisa sat down, crossed her legs, and laid her hands in her lap. “It’s about Jake,” she said.

Annie sat in her armchair and looked at Lisa. “What about Jake?”

Lisa leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone as if afraid someone was lurking nearby and listening in. “I have a source who revealed to me Jake’s a wanted fugitive. Wanted for the bank robbery as well as for the shooting of Merrilla Overstone.” She sat back, a smug look on her face. “I thought we could make a deal.”

Annie stared at Lisa a moment. The nosy newswoman had eyes and ears everywhere. There wasn’t much that escaped her when she put her mind to a task. “Where did you hear that?” Annie asked.

Lisa pointed out the window to Annie’s car. “I saw Hank going over your Toyota yesterday. I didn’t realize it was yours at the time, but I got the idea it was involved somehow.” She shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it? Jake’s a fugitive.”

Annie didn’t answer, wondering if Lisa was making assumptions and digging for information.

Lisa continued, “I’ve known you and Jake for a long time, and though this would make a great story, I happen to think Jake’s innocent.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, a pained expression on her face. “I couldn’t bring myself to run with it.” She paused and unconsciously brushed a hand through her short black hair. “I owe you two a small favor, anyway.”

“You owe us a small favor?” Annie asked. “You mean, for saving your life?”

Lisa smiled. “It’s the least I could do.” She cleared her throat. “As you know, Annie, millions of people tune into the news every day to watch my stories.”

Annie refrained from rolling her eyes and waited for Lisa to continue.

“So in return for me keeping quiet about Jake—”

“What happened to the favor?”

“That’s part of it,” Lisa said.

Annie didn’t argue. It made no sense, but according to Lisa’s one-sided logic, it made all the sense in the world. Lisa seemed determined to come out the big winner in any deal.

“When this is all over,” Lisa continued, “I’d like to do a one-hour special on Jake’s story. I think it would make a great human-interest piece, and my watchers would be overjoyed when I reveal how one man, with the help of his faithful wife, triumphed over impossible odds.”

Lisa seemed to have the tagline written already. She’d probably been working on it all day.