Sullivan's Law (27 page)

“Nowhere has been safe,” Daniel said, lowering his eyes. “Maybe you should just send me back to Chino.”

“I know things have been tough,” she said. “I was with you when the motel exploded. My daughter broke her ankle, my car was destroyed, and my son was kidnapped today. This wasn't even my fight, Daniel. When things go bad, all we can do is try our best to make them right.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, rubbing his hand back and forth on the sheet. “It just seems like life was better for me when I was in prison. When I'm not able to work, I get depressed.”

“Listen,” she said firmly, refusing to allow a man with his intellect and abilities to crawl back into a hole, “you want to give up and spend the rest of your life behind bars, go right ahead. All you have to do is steal some hubcaps.”

Daniel fell silent.

“I showed your work to a physics professor I know,” Carolyn continued. “He was very impressed. He wants some of the other faculty members at Caltech to take a look at your design for the exoskeleton. All I need is your permission.”

His eyes lit up. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am,” she said. “He even told me the government was offering fifty million to any individual or institute who comes up with the best prototype.”

“When you say the government,” Daniel said, his enthusiasm waning, “what you mean is the military. I'm not interested in perfecting the exoskeleton or any of my other inventions to be used in warfare. Money doesn't mean anything to me. My dream was to work in the biomedical field. I want to help disabled people.”

“I'll either come by or call you first thing in the morning,” she said. “We're going to catch this man, Daniel. If you hang in there and let us help you, you might be able to work anywhere you want.”

Daniel gave Carolyn a pathetic look, almost as if he couldn't stand for her to leave. The poor man had suffered through so much, she thought. He'd gone without love since he was a teenager. John's ordeal had left her in an emotional turmoil. She impulsively walked over to his bed and kissed him on the forehead.

Carolyn experienced a strange sensation. As she gazed at Daniel's face, her vision blurred. “The picture you had in your room,” she said, removing it from her purse. “Is this you?”

“Yes,” Daniel said softly.

“And the girl?” she asked. “Is she your sister?”

“I loved her very much,” he said. “Her name was Jenny.”

“You never mentioned a sister,” Carolyn said. “Where is she now?”

“At the Queen of Angels Cemetery in Los Angeles,” Daniel said. “She was five when she died. When you moved into our complex, I thought God had sent her back to me. You were the same age and you looked just like her. We used to play together. You don't remember, do you?”

“No,” Carolyn said, wondering if this early tragedy had played a role in his illness. “I'm sorry about your sister. How did you recognize me after all these years?”

“Maybe because the time I spent with you was happy, and my sister had been sick from the time she was born, I had more good memories of you than I did of her. When I heard someone named Carolyn Sullivan was going to be my probation officer, I wasn't sure it was the same person. The moment I saw you, though, I knew.”

Carolyn had to leave. “Whether I remember the past or not isn't important,” she told him. “I'm glad you found me.”

“No one has ever really cared what happened to me outside of my parents,” Daniel said, giving her a look of gratitude. “You risked your life to help me. You're a wonderful person.”

“So are you,” Carolyn said, smiling. “This time, I promise I won't forget to call you. Please—”

“Don't worry,” Daniel said, cutting her off, “I'm not going to leave the hospital.”

C
arolyn and Paul were sitting next to each other on the sofa in her living room. It was almost midnight, and both John and Rebecca were asleep. After several hours in the car with Hank Sawyer, John had finally identified the vacant house where he'd been held. The police had cordoned it off as a crime scene and were still combing the house for evidence. They hadn't discovered another body, but they did confirm that the sneakers John had seen in the garage had belonged to Luisa Cortez. Once the crime lab removed and examined all the evidence, they might be able to tell if more crimes had been committed and make an attempt to locate any additional victims.

“I don't mind you using my place in Pasadena,” Paul told her. “Going in an ambulance is a good idea. To be honest, though, I don't think the visiting nurse is the way to go.”

“Why?” Carolyn asked, peering over at him. “Daniel will need medical treatment. A gunshot wound is a serious injury.”

“I agree he needs someone to care for him while he's recuperating, but he doesn't need a nurse,” the professor told her. “Not only that, neither you nor the children should leave my house in Pasadena until the killer has been apprehended. I'm going to send Isobel with you. She can do the shopping, cook, and take care of Metroix. Pasadena is a small town. A new face would attract attention.”

“No, Paul,” Carolyn told him. “I can't let you do that. Lending us your house is enough. You need Isobel to help you with Lucy, as well as handle your chores. I don't want to keep you from finishing your book.”

“To hell with the book,” he said, placing a finger under her chin. “I think I'm falling in love with you.”

They kissed, and then Carolyn pulled back. “Isn't a statement like that a little premature? We haven't even had sex. I know how you men operate. You're desperately in love until you get the woman in bed, then everything starts to fade.”

“Even if we never had sex, I'd still adore you. Look at all the excitement you've brought into my life.” Paul rubbed his hands together. “I've changed my mind about writing another physics book. I've decided to become a crime fighter.”

Carolyn nudged him in the side. “You're making fun of me.”

“Somewhat,” Paul said, smiling. “I doubt if I could do your job even if I wanted. I meant what I said earlier, though. I guess it just wasn't the right time to begin a love affair.”

“Amen to that one,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “I'm so tired I can't see straight. Tomorrow, I have to contact the kids' teachers and get their schoolwork together, pack some of our things.”

“Let the schoolwork go,” Paul cautioned. “For this to work, you can't let anyone know what's going on. Don't forget that John was deceived by Downly. He uses his youth and appearance to his advantage.”

“I wasn't going to tell the school where we're going,” Carolyn said. “All I intended was to make it so they could keep up with their studies. You know how serious John is about his grades. Not only that, what are they going to do pent up in the house all the time?”

“I'll send some of Lucy's DVDs with you,” he told her.

“And your son can learn more from Daniel Metroix than he'll ever learn at school. I thought of sending some of the professors at Caltech over to talk to him since he'll be in the area.” He saw the look on her face, then added, “Not too smart, huh?”

Carolyn yawned. “Stick to physics.”

A few minutes later, Paul realized that Carolyn had fallen asleep. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bed. Instead of returning home, he called and asked Isobel to bring him his rifle. Tonight, he decided, it was his turn to play sentinel.

 

Arline Shoeffel called Carolyn at home at seven-thirty Wednesday morning. Paul had left as soon as she'd awakened. The children were packing their things for the trip to Pasadena. Carolyn was resting in her bedroom, knowing she had a long day ahead of her.

The judge had heard about John's kidnapping and the shooting at the hospital, as well as the possibility that Eddie Downly was the man who'd raped Luisa Cortez. Carolyn told her about their plan to stay at the professor's house in Pasadena until Downly had been apprehended.

“What should we do about Warden Lackner?” Carolyn asked. “For all we know, he hired Downly. He had the same motive to get him out of jail as Charles Harrison. He couldn't take a chance that Downly would roll over on him.”

“The attorney general's office is launching an investigation,” Arline informed her. “They've already determined that there was no joint venture program at Chino.”

Carolyn bolted upright in bed. “Then Lackner lied?”

“Looks that way,” she told her. “There's also no official record of any inmate having a lab or workshop along the lines of what Metroix described. Several guards have already verified Metroix's story, so Lackner must have taken down the lab as soon as you started asking questions. The AG's office would like to depose Metroix as soon as possible.”

“Don't they understand that someone's trying to kill him?”

“I told them he wouldn't be available for several weeks due to his injuries,” Arline continued. “I tried to arrange federal protection, but the case isn't far enough along to warrant it. The one thing you can do, since you're going to be spending some time with this man, is to attempt to compile a list of whatever it is he invented during his time at the prison.”

Carolyn hung up and called Brad Preston.

“Where are you going?”

“As far away as we can get,” she told him. “I'll check in with you at the end of the week.”

“What about Metroix?”

“I don't know,” Carolyn lied. “My primary concern is my family's safety.”

“You can't just walk off the job and not let anyone know where you're going, or when you're coming back.”

“Right now,” Carolyn said, “I don't have to tell anyone anything. You want to get me fired, go right ahead.”

“You're not being fair,” he said, stung by her sharp remarks. “I am concerned about you. I'm not trying to get you fired.”

“I'm tired and I'm scared, Brad,” Carolyn said. “No one has ever come this close to hurting my children. If you care about me, don't ask any questions. It's for your own good as well as mine. Tell Wilson I'm having an operation.”

“I've been thinking about you a lot lately,” Brad said, his voice soft. “Maybe we could try again. You know, put things back together. All you'd have to do is transfer to another unit. Either that or I'll take over field services.”

Carolyn scooted farther down in the bed, imagining he was beside her. Paul Leighton offered her intelligence and stability. Just thinking about Brad made her toes tingle and her nipples harden. “Were you telling the truth about Amy McFarland?”

“There was never anything between us,” he told her. “To be honest, I haven't even been dating. I guess I'm getting old or something. I don't know what's wrong with me. The other day, I thought about asking you to marry me.”

“Yeah, right,” Carolyn said. “And you're going to give up drinking and staying out all night, sell all those stupid race cars, just suddenly settle down and become a family man.”

Brad laughed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe not is more like it,” Carolyn told him. “You just can't stand it because I'm seeing someone else. I'll check in toward the end of the week.”

B
y ten o'clock Wednesday morning, Carolyn, John, and Rebecca were sitting in a room at the Ventura Police Department. Hank had pulled her Infiniti into a service bay at the rear of the station, then had some of the other officers remove the boxes of belongings she'd brought along and load them into a white van.

“Here's the plan,” Hank said, entering the room and taking a seat across from them at the conference table. “You and your children will ride to the hospital in one of our evidence vans. This shouldn't attract suspicion as Downly knows we'll be sending people over to Methodist to collect evidence from the crime scene. Metroix is scheduled for release at noon. The hospital records won't show he's been released until tomorrow. If Downly manages to get hold of the hospital records or calls to check Metroix's status, all he'll be told is that he's no longer a patient. There won't be any forwarding address. This will give you a full day's lead time. To extend it any longer would be too risky. We don't know everyone involved in this mess. We're going to cover today by putting a phony note in Metroix's chart that he's been transferred to the psych ward.” He stopped and took a drink of his coffee. “We know Downly isn't working alone. Whoever shot Metroix was in the passenger seat. The same holds true regarding the people who tried to run you and Rebecca off the road.”

Carolyn saw the fear in the girl's eyes as she recalled that night. “Don't you have any leads on Eddie Downly?” Carolyn asked, reaching over and clasping her daughter's hand. John was sitting beside his sister, a sullen expression on his face. He'd gone through the roof when his mother had told him she was taking him out of school. Then, when she'd told him that they were going to be holed up with Daniel Metroix, John had told her she was insane. She tried to explain that since the killer knew all three of them by sight, it made sense for them to remain together.

“We don't have anything on Downly's whereabouts at the moment,” Hank said, pushing his chair away from the table. “Whether you realize it or not, John, Downly wants to get rid of you as much as he wants to get rid of Metroix and Luisa Cortez. Your testimony will convict him.”

“Well, that sure makes me feel good,” John said sarcastically. “The guy might as well kill me. I'm probably going to flunk out of school anyway.”

“You're not going to flunk out of school,” his mother said. “Hank's just trying to explain why we need to go away for a while.” She turned back to the detective. “What about Nolan Houston and Liam Armstrong?”

“You've got to let us carry the ball now, Carolyn,” Hank said. “The captain, along with Kevin Thomas from the DA's office, has a meeting scheduled with Judge Shoeffel this afternoon. After what happened yesterday, she's agreed to issue search warrants for both Houston and Armstrong.” He tilted his head toward the door. “We need to get moving, folks. The ambulance is already at the hospital. We've got men standing around over there twiddling their thumbs. I'd like to get them back on the street so we can find Downly. We also want this move to go as smoothly as possible.”

On the ride to Pasadena, Carolyn called Paul Leighton from her cell phone inside the ambulance. “Thanks for staying last night.”

“I forgot to tell you,” he said. “There's no phone service at the house except for the two lines paid for by the university. One is a DSL line for the computer. The other jack is right next to it. I didn't want to turn the phones back on in case Downly or someone else hacked into the phone company's records and got the address. We'll communicate only on our cell phones. If your cell phone doesn't work for some reason, just plug one of the phones into the jack behind my computer.”

Carolyn started to hang up when the professor continued speaking, “Do you know someone who drives a black Nissan?”

“No,” she said. “Why?”

“I saw a person parked a few doors down from your house in a black Nissan. I assumed it was an undercover cop, but I decided it was worth mentioning. I checked with the neighbors. No one knows anyone who drives that type of car.”

“I'll ask Hank if it was one of their men when I talk to him later. I didn't spot any strange cars when we left to go to the police department.”

Paul had sent Isobel to Pasadena early that morning, to air out the house and stock the refrigerator. “Was this person there when Isobel left?” she asked, cupping her hand over the phone so the children wouldn't hear.

“Honestly,” he said, “I don't know. I doubt if it's anything to be concerned about. I checked with the neighbors, but a lot of people weren't home. For all we know, the person in the Nissan could have been a friend of one of the teenagers who live around here. Maybe they stopped by to give them a ride. The car disappeared around eight-thirty. That coincides with when most of the kids head out to school.” He paused and then added, “From what I could tell, the driver was female. Nothing you've told me indicates that a female is involved.”

Carolyn instantly thought of Madeline Harrison. Daniel had described the shooter as having blond hair, and Harrison's widow was a blonde. Mrs. Harrison had an aura of sophistication about her, however. It was hard to imagine her parked on the street alone, lying in wait to kill them. Some things just didn't fit.

When Carolyn remained silent, Paul asked her, “You have your gun, I presume?”

“Yes,” she told him. “Guns I have in abundance.”

Hank had given her a small arsenal of weapons. They wouldn't have support from the Pasadena police, unless they ended up in a shootout or some other kind of crisis developed. According to the detective, the local police force spent most of their time trying to prevent the wealthy senior citizens of Pasadena, who made up the majority of the residents, from running over the college students.

In a canvas bag in the rear of the ambulance were three additional handguns, an AK-47 assault rifle, and enough ammo to hold off an army.

Once she'd concluded her call with Paul, Carolyn familiarized herself with the supplies the hospital had given her to care for Daniel. Inside a large plastic sack, she found bottles of Percodan, antibiotics, antiseptics, bandages, and various other medications. At the end of the week, according to the sheet of instructions they'd given her, Daniel would have to be checked by a doctor. He was still pale and weak.

Rebecca felt sorry for him, and struck up a conversation. Dressed in a white cotton shirt and a red-and-black checked skirt, the girl wore her curly brown hair tied back in a ponytail, with a few tendrils pulled down over her forehead. “What does it feel like to be shot?”

“Painful,” Daniel told her, lying prone on the gurney. “How's your ankle?”

“I can walk on it now,” she told him. “The doctor called this a walking cast. I only had to use the crutches for a few days.”

So he would have something to wear, Paul had given Carolyn several pairs of loose-fitting sweatpants and a stack of white cotton T-shirts. She'd brought along the underwear and socks he'd purchased at Rite Aid, along with his injectable medication, on the day after the explosion.

Rebecca kept probing. “Were you scared?”

“You don't have much time to be scared.”

“I bet you hate the guy who shot you.”

“Hate is an ugly thing,” Daniel told her. “All it does is eat you up inside.”

“But aren't you mad about all that time you spent in prison?” the girl asked, doodling in a spiral notebook she was balancing on her lap. “My mom says you didn't do anything wrong.”

“I'm lucky to be alive,” Daniel told her. “If it hadn't been for your mother and brother, I might be dead. Your mother's a courageous woman. John,” he said, propping himself up with his arms, “I really appreciate what you did the other day. I owe you one, guy. That was some quick thinking on your part to give Downly your mother's office number instead of her cell phone. Most people would have caved in under that type of pressure.”

John had his nose in a book about Richard Feynman, the Nobel Prize–winning physicist he was writing a paper on for school. He ignored Daniel's comments and turned to his mother. “Feynman taught at Caltech. We're going to be in Pasadena. Maybe I can get a tour of the campus.”

Daniel spoke up again, determined to break the ice with the aloof young man. “You're a Feynman buff, huh? Did you know one of his hobbies was cracking safes? When he was working on the Manhattan Project, he used to drive everyone nuts.”

John's eyes flashed with interest. “You know about Feynman?”

“Of course,” Daniel said. “No one interested in physics could bypass Feynman. He was a giant in the field, as well as a wonderful teacher. Many people can
do
physics. It takes a special knack to teach it.”

“I'm interested in nanotechnology,” John said, closing his book. “Did you ever read Feynman's talk about swallowing the surgeon? Can you imagine what we could do if we ever get machines small enough to perform surgery inside the human body? Wouldn't that be awesome?”

“Unfortunately,” Daniel said, “we've got a long way to go in that respect. Are you thinking of entering that field?”

“What field?”

“The biomedical field.”

“I've never really thought about it,” John told him. “I know I don't want to build weapons of mass destruction. I'm more interested in the benefits of physics and the sciences in the practical sense.”

The ambulance pulled up in front of a small house with wood shingles, the walls covered with climbing ivy. The driver, an undercover police officer named Stockwell, told Carolyn and her children to wait in the car while he made the necessary preparations. They watched through the front window as the officer rang the doorbell, then waited for Isobel to respond. Stockwell instructed her to open the garage door so he could back the ambulance inside.

Once everything was in place, the officer made certain Daniel was strapped onto the gurney. Hank Sawyer had insisted that John wear a uniform to make him appear as if he was also a paramedic. An emergency vehicle such as an ambulance was always manned by two individuals, as one had to drive while the other administered to the patient in the back.

Stockwell motioned for John to help him carry Daniel into the residence. Carolyn and Rebecca were told to remain inside until he gave them the okay to sneak into the house.

They placed Daniel in the guest room on the first floor, near the garage. Since Isobel had worked for the professor and his family for years, she had her own room across the hallway. The two rooms shared a bathroom. The hallway that divided the rooms led past the kitchen, then into the dining room and living room.

Three additional bedrooms were located upstairs. Rebecca found what had to be Lucy's room, while John settled into the professor's office. Paul had informed them that the sofa converted to a bed. John was pleased when he saw a desk with a computer, along with an X-Box, which he assumed the professor had purchased for his daughter.

“I wonder if he's got DSL,” the boy said, immediately booting up the computer while his mother leaned in the doorway. “He even has Windows XP.”

“What's does that mean?” Carolyn asked, not as up to date on computer technology as her children. They had good equipment at the courthouse, but the county didn't have the funds to update the entire system as soon as something new was released.

“Well,” John said, “Paul doesn't have to worry about me messing with his personal files. Windows XP is a Microsoft operating system that allows you to set up your computer so a guest can use it without a problem. I asked you to buy this for me for Christmas last year. You said it was too expensive.”

John tapped into the Internet and the images flashed on the screen. “It takes me forever at home with our modem. You have to get DSL, Mom. Everyone has it these days.”

Carolyn wondered if she'd made the right decision, isolating them in another city. “If
everyone
has a high-speed Internet connection, they must have a thicker bank account than I do,” she told her son. “At least you'll have something to entertain yourself with while you're here.”

When Stockwell left, they'd be on their own. Hank had warned her. The captain had refused to deploy manpower to a city where they had no legal jurisdiction. In addition, they needed every officer they could get to conduct their manhunt for Fast Eddie and his accomplice.

Advising the Pasadena police of the situation hadn't appeared prudent. The point was that no one should know where they were hiding, and because of the circumstances, anyone related to law enforcement was still considered suspect. Charles Harrison's death had not been confirmed. Not only that, Carolyn was afraid of Warden Lackner, a man who possessed enough clout to obtain any information he wanted.

After Officer Stockwell had brought in their boxes and the canvas bag full of weapons, he spoke to Carolyn privately in the kitchen. “I should split as soon as possible,” he said. “We want it to look like a routine transfer. Picking this particular town wasn't such a bad idea. From what I hear, they transport elderly patients back and forth in ambulances around here all the time. There's a lot of money in this place. The people who live here don't end up in nursing homes. They hire someone to look after them at home. Outside of the students at the university, half the city's population probably consists of professional caretakers.”

“That's good, isn't it?” Carolyn asked. “As long as Isobel is the one who comes and goes, we shouldn't attract much attention.”

“I'd keep that to a minimum as well,” Stockwell told her. “And don't forget to keep the drapes closed. Have the housekeeper shut the garage door and lock it when I pull out. Did Professor Leighton advise his alarm company that you'd be staying here?”