Switch (8 page)

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Authors: Grant McKenzie

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General

BOOK: Switch
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The woman’s voice softened, but only slightly.

‘How old are you?’

‘Thirteen.’

‘Have you seen anyone else?’

‘No. I heard someone sobbing in another cell, but I didn’t get to see her. I . . . I think it might be my mom.’

The voice hesitated. ‘She’s been weeping for hours. I think she may have gone a little crazy down here. Not that I blame her.’

‘Where are we?’

‘I don’t know, child. They’re not forthcoming with answers, though I’ve tried.’

MaryAnn’s voice began to crack. ‘I’m so scared.’

‘I know, baby.’ The woman’s voice melted into a soothing tone. ‘Come on over towards my voice. There’s a cot and a couple blankets. It’s not much, but it’s better than that filthy floor.’

MaryAnn picked herself off the floor and slowly moved in the direction of the voice. When her legs bumped into the metal frame of an army cot, she reached down and felt a pair of bare legs, rough stubble marring smooth skin.

She recoiled.

‘It’s OK, child,’ assured the voice. ‘We’re in this together.’

MaryAnn fought against her instincts not to trust strangers, but she was so scared and missed
her mom so much, she sat on the cot and rested her back against the woman’s legs.

The woman stroked her hair, cooing softly in a quiet sing-song voice. MaryAnn began to relax, tucking her feet under her and curling closer to the warmth of the woman’s body.

‘You rest now, baby,’ said the voice. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you. That’s a promise.’

MaryAnn’s emotions bubbled to the surface and she cried herself to sleep.

24

Neither driver nor passenger absorbed the heated-leather comfort of the Mercedes as they struggled to stay afloat in an ocean of troubling thoughts.

‘He wants a million dollars,’ Sam said, thinking aloud. ‘Doesn’t he know I’m a security guard at a shopping mall, for Christ sake?’

‘He asked me for the same,’ Zack said. ‘I thought I could raise it, but there just wasn’t enough time. I managed to get most of it by liquidating everything I owned . . . If only he had given me more time . . .’

Sam looked over, his eyes scanning Zack’s thin frame. There was a lighter band of skin on his wrist where a watch would normally reside. His fingers were also bare of any jewellery except for a simple gold wedding band that wouldn’t have cost more than a grand at even an exclusive jeweller’s.

‘What about the car?’ said Sam. ‘The suit?’

Zack’s eyes flared with anger. ‘I would have
crawled naked to him to save my family. I offered the car. I offered the money. I offered my life in exchange for theirs, but it wasn’t enough.’

Zack’s knuckles turned white as he squeezed the steering wheel. ‘Do you know what a car’s worth when you need fast cash?’

Sam shrugged. He had never owned a new car.

‘Nothing,’ spat Zack. ‘Friends don’t want it because it’s not next year’s model. The thieves and chop shops don’t want it because it’s cheaper to steal their own. I offered up the car, hoping he would add its value to the cash. He didn’t take either.’

Sam was startled. ‘He didn’t take the money?’

‘There’s over $750,000 in the trunk. It’s worthless to me now.’

Sam glanced over his shoulder, eyes burrowing through the back seat into the cavity beyond as a terrifying spark of violent imagery flashed before him.

‘You don’t need to rob me,’ Zack said, plainly reading Sam’s mind. ‘You can have it. My family is dead, killed by my failure. If I can help yours . . .’ His voice faded.

Sam was dumbstruck. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say you’ll trust me.’

Sam looked down at his lap, the fingers of one hand absently crushing and pinching the others. The jabs of pain did nothing to reassure him that he was awake and that this wasn’t just one long, horrible nightmare.

‘Trust is earned, not given,’ he said finally.

The man raised an eyebrow. ‘Not even with a trunk full of cash?’

‘Not even.’

Zack pondered the statement. ‘OK. Until I earn your trust, how about you promise not to slit my throat when my eyes are closed?’

‘If you lie to me, or I discover you’re involved with this, it won’t matter if you’re asleep or awake.’

A thin smile flickered over Zack’s face, momentarily lifting the sadness from his eyes. ‘I can live with that.’

Sam liked the man, and for a moment he could picture the friendship they might have had: laughter and backyard barbecues; two families sharing a meal . . .

Sam shook the vision from his head, knowing his mind was searching for an escape from the reality before him. It was one of the things Hannah would constantly admonish him for.

What planet you on now, Sam?
she would say, her hands jabbing into hips, elbows cocked at a jaunty angle as she rose on her toes in a weak attempt to make herself look larger and more menacing.
Problems don’t go away just because you close your eyes and pretend they’re not there
.

Sam looked out of the side window, watching the blur of storefronts, their signs unreadable as though his mind could no longer comprehend the language. He wiped at his eyes, clearing a damp
curtain of fog, and ran two dry knuckles under his dripping nose.

‘How do we get my family back?’ he asked.

‘I don’t have that answer,’ Zack said carefully. ‘But I know you must be exhausted. He wants us tired, not thinking, making mistakes. Like I said, that’s where I went wrong. I was so tired I became blind to his game. He gives you time to torture yourself with guilt between assignments, or “choices” as he calls them. Before he calls you again, we need to rest. Then, we’ll figure out how to hunt.’

25

Detective Preston struggled to get comfortable in the passenger seat of a department-issue Nissan. He often cursed whoever had designed the car’s form-fitting bucket seats, knowing it was likely some smartass Asian computer that had never heard of Big & Tall stores or corn-fed cowboys from Texas.

‘Where do you think he would have gone?’ he grumbled to his partner.

‘I expected he’d end up back here.’ Hogan glanced out of the windshield at the navy blue Jeep parked against the kerb less than a half-block from their position. ‘It’s the only damn thing left he owns.’

‘What about parents?’ Preston asked. ‘You look into them?’

‘The wife’s folks live in Florida,’ Hogan replied. ‘But the housekeeper says they’re on stress reduction in Italy. Cycling and wine-tasting in the country, no cellphones or email allowed, and she
didn’t have a contact number. I issued an alert to the consulate in case they check in. His parents are AWOL, too. Seems they sold up last year and bought a land yacht to tour the desert states. Modern gypsies of the road.’

‘What a nightmare,’ Preston muttered. ‘Can you imagine being stuck with the wife twenty-four/seven in a tiny box on wheels? The Arizona boys must be bleepin’ swamped. I bet they get more bludgeoned codgers by the side of the freeway than we have splattered varmints.’

‘I enjoy spending time with my wife,’ Hogan protested.

‘Oh, I like mine fine, too, don’t get me wrong, but you wait and see.’

Preston reached for the dashboard handset and pressed the transmit button.

‘Darlene, you there, honey? Come on back.’

‘I’m here, cowboy,’ replied the unit dispatcher. ‘What’s your twenty?’

‘Are you flirting with me, darlin’? I am a large man, but twenty may be pushing it.’

Darlene’s cackle sent a shiver down Hogan’s spine. How she could possibly believe his partner’s B.S., he didn’t know. Darlene had a face like a Louisiana alligator and, to every officer but Preston, the personality to match.

‘What you needin’, cowboy?’

‘Patch me through to Cosmo, will you, honey?’

Preston winked at his partner.

‘I took a look through the actor’s wallet,’ he
explained. ‘Then had Cosmo run a few numbers and keep them active.’

The radio squawked and a clipped voice announced, ‘Kostyuchenko.’

‘Cosmo, any new hits on the Visa I gave you?’

‘Hold.’

Preston turned to his partner. ‘Real chatterbox, huh?’

Hogan shrugged. ‘He doesn’t like you.’

‘You kiddin’? The geek worships me.’

‘You call him Cosmo. He hates that.’

‘If I used that Russian handle, I’d be so tongue-tied I’d need to arrest him for assault.’

The radio hissed. ‘Hello? You are there?’

‘Talk to me, Cosmo.’

‘Card used to check into Bluesman Motel. It’s located at—’

‘Yeah, we know it,’ Preston interrupted. ‘Good work, Cos. I’ll talk to the captain about those sheep you wanted.’

‘Sheep?’ Kostyuchenko blurted in a panic. ‘Not sheep. RAM! I need more RAM.’

26

Sam woke with a jolt and swept a thin polyester blanket from his shoulders. His skin was flushed and damp, his mind instantly abuzz with anxiety and guilt.

He sat up in the small bed set adjacent to the only window. Through sleepy eyes, he took in his surroundings: one medium-size room decorated in basic primer white with a wash of nicotine. Twin beds, their bare metal frames bolted to the floor; and two narrow, sawdust-board nightstands.

A 24-inch colour TV, its remote firmly connected to its side with a two-foot-long curly telephone cord, sat atop a solid three-drawer dresser. A black Bakelite phone, from which he had made frantic but fruitless calls to Hannah’s parents and his own, rested on the nightstand beside Zack’s bed.

On the far wall, a hollow-core door led to the tiny bathroom.

Zack stirred on the matching bed and opened
one eye, the way a house cat might just to see if it was worth opening the other.

‘You sleep?’ he asked.

Sam shrugged. ‘A bit.’

‘Sleep helps you deal, Sam, and either you deal or you lie down and die. Personally, I don’t mind the dying.’ Zack’s face grew dark. ‘But you don’t have that option, and I don’t want that asshole walking around on the planet when I’m gone.’

Sam swung his legs off the side of the bed and reached for his clothes. He understood that, unlike Zack, he at least had been given a little hope, but it didn’t make him feel any less afraid.

As he dressed, he looked through the gap in the curtains to see Zack’s Mercedes parked in the asphalt lot one floor below. Its polished metallic surface reflected the early-evening light.

‘You sure the money’s OK in the car?’ Sam asked.

Zack nodded as he slipped into his own clothes. The silk suit had lost some of its wrinkles from hanging in the shower stall while he slept, but the humidity had done nothing for the blood, dirt and grass stains.

‘Mercedes build their cars like tanks,’ he explained. ‘I also paid a little extra for the Diplomat package, which adds fireproofing and a secondary deadbolt on the trunk. You would need some real special tools to get that money, and even then you wouldn’t waste your time unless you knew it was there.’

‘Mmmm, OK, it’s just . . .’ Sam searched for the word, ‘unsettling, I guess.’

‘You want the keys?’ Zack asked.

‘What?’

‘Would you feel better if you had the keys, instead of me?’

Sam shook off the suggestion. ‘Nah. Forget it. I’m so jittery I’d probably lose the damn things.’

‘Any time you change your mind . . .’

Sam nodded to show he appreciated the offer. ‘So what now?’

As if in answer, the cellphone rang.

27

‘You know,’ Detective Preston said, ‘it’s not that I don’t appreciate spending extra time with you, but my stomach is telling me to go home, get something to eat, curl up with the wife and watch a little
Jeopardy
. Maybe even crack a cold Texas beer.’

Hogan ignored him and continued to search the abandoned room.

The motel clerk stood at the open door to Room 4, his hands on hips and a frown creasing his face.

‘He not check out,’ he said for the fourth time in under a minute. ‘I see who come, I see who go. He not go.’

‘Snuck out.’ Preston jabbed his thumb in the direction of the small washroom at the rear. ‘Open window.’

‘He not to do that,’ said the clerk. ‘Window not to be opened. We run very clean place here. Very nice. No pornographers.’

‘Pity,’ Preston quipped. ‘Those are always fun doors to kick down.’

Hogan sighed and scratched his chin. ‘You think White planned this?’

‘Misdirection?’ Preston shrugged. ‘He didn’t strike me as being that clever, but . . .’

‘If the explosion was a cover-up . . .’ Hogan voiced aloud.

‘Of the black girl’s murder . . .’ Preston continued.

‘Then he could be on the run,’ Hogan finished.

‘Which makes us look like dopes for letting him walk,’ Preston added.

Hogan turned to the clerk. ‘How was he acting when he checked in?’

The clerk’s eyes grew large. ‘He very tired and yawning. Did not strike me as scumbag or pornographer. I very careful, but not perfect. Only human.’

‘Any visitors?’ Preston asked.

‘No. I see who come. I see who—’ He stopped himself and looked a touch embarrassed. ‘I did not believe window could be opening.’

‘Well, it did take a bit of elbow grease,’ Preston agreed. ‘And he certainly didn’t do it for the fresh air.’

Hogan sighed. ‘Doesn’t look good, does it?’

‘Maybe he’s a better actor than we gave him credit for.’

Hogan flipped open his cellphone.

‘I’ll get approval for patrol to watch his Jeep,
and get the coroner to make identifying the victims a priority. Once we know who was killed, we can figure out why.’

Preston pulled out his own phone. ‘I’ll make sure Cosmo alerts us if any new charges pop up on the card.’

‘I will be closing window now,’ said the clerk, and vanished into the bathroom.

28

Sam forced himself to breathe as he answered the cellphone.

‘Mr White. Just listen,’ said the altered voice. ‘There is a liquor store, Toler’s Tonics, on Tenth Avenue and North Street. I want you to go there and pick up two forty-ounce bottles of hard liquor. I don’t care what brand or what type of alcohol you choose. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’ Sam glanced over at Zack, frowning.

The voice continued. ‘I know you consider yourself to be an honest man, Sam. It’s one of the little things you take pride in. That’s about to change.’

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