The Guardian (11 page)

When Allie started to ask another question, Ross put up his hand. “Just a minute. We need to agree on where we go from here. Greg was clear that he wanted no police. That’s why I did what I did.”

“What you did was—”

“—was what Greg wanted,” Beth interrupted. She realized she needed to make some decisions fast, before Allie decided to make them for her.

“Greg felt this was the only way,” Ross said. “I think he’s right. The kidnapper will figure he’s been burned once, and if he has any sense that the police are involved, I think he’ll just kill her.” He turned to Beth. “Let me help.”

“Help?” Allie gestured to Beth. “Don’t you think you’ve helped her enough? She didn’t want the cash back. She wanted her husband and daughter—”

“Stop it, Allie.” Beth stood up, aware that the pain in her chest was already burning through, that she had only a little time before it would overwhelm her.

“Beth, you can’t see it—”

“I said
stop it.
” Beth put her hand out and Ross took it. “Allie, I know you’re fighting for me, but that’s not what I need right now. Ross did what Greg asked. He’s doing that now.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Shush. I do.” She looked down at his hand, and saw how much it was shaped like Greg’s, only more callused. “He’s family. He’s been Janine’s godfather and guardian ever since Greg dragged him back from Washington State. We never changed it during the time he was in prison.” She squeezed his hand hard. “Greg always had a lot of faith in his younger brother. He always said you were the fighter of the family.” She turned back to Allie. “And he’s going to earn that faith now. He’ll do anything to get her back. No police, Allie. That’s what I want.”

Allie looked from one to the other, and finally she agreed. “I won’t get in your way. No police.”

Chapter 18

Ross was back in the hole. Back in isolation. Where the air was thick from his own rebreathing, the walls an institutional beige, laden with many coats of old paint. Where the light bulb, safe behind heavy mesh, was left constantly on.

The loneliness was physically painful. He rubbed at his chest in his sleep.

As the sunlight filled Greg’s office, Ross swung off the couch, his mind fumbling with the hope that it had all been a dream. He stepped into the hall, and pushed open Janine’s door.

Her bed was empty.

He sighed, too fully awake now to indulge in the idea any longer. He went back up to the office and turned on Greg’s personal computer. As it warmed up, he dressed and formed the words he had in mind. It took a few minutes for him to open the file, and familiarize himself with the system, but soon he had the ad composed:

MASKED MAN, YOUR SECRET IS SAFE FOR 48 HOURS

BURIED, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

UNCLE R LOVES J

CALL, HE’S BUYING.

Using the mouse, he created a line drawing of the ski mask, as best he could remember it in the brief flash of car light. It didn’t have to be perfect, he figured. The man had said he read the classifieds every day, including the
Phoenix,
so he should know how to read the personals.

Ross did another version as a flier, and then simply typed up the copy as a straight classified listing, without the mask or border. He printed those out, and put the poster onto the photocopier. By the time he had a hundred fliers finished, he could hear Allie talking with Beth downstairs, and he went down to join them.

Beth nodded at the poster in his hand. “So what do you have in mind?” Her voice was husky.

Allie stood beside her and they looked at the ad. Beth said, “What makes you think that he’ll see it?”

Ross told her about the man’s comment about classified ads. He held up the stack of posters. “And making the assumption that he chose the store in Watertown because he knows something about the area, we’ll start there with these posters.”

“That’s quite an assumption,” Allie said.

Ross nodded. “True. So I’m going to hit some of the main streets in Boston, like Boylston, Mass. Ave., Commonwealth. And I’m going to blanket here, Lincoln.”

“Lincoln?” Allie said. “You can’t think he’s from here?”

“No. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s scoped this area out, driven through at night, maybe even looked at the house.”

Beth glanced out the window. “I’d love to see him,” she said, her voice remote.

Ross kept his tone mild. “That’s not out of the realm of possibility. I think it’s unlikely today. He’ll probably just lie low and try to figure out how he’ll know if the police are involved. But he knows we have the money. He could assume accurately we have it here in the house—so he may try to just come in and take it.”

“Could you get us another gun?” Beth met his eyes.

“How about yours?” Ross said to Allie.

“You have a gun?” Beth asked, surprised.

Allie smiled thinly. “I keep one in the nightstand drawer. The people I used to put away made threats from time to time and it helped me sleep, having it there.”

“Could you get it for us this morning?”

She hesitated, then nodded. She said she would be back in a few hours. “I’ve got a ton of calls to make. But then I’ll pick up some clothes, and plan to stay here tonight.”

Beth thanked her, and Allie gave her a hug. “Whatever I can do.”

After she left, Beth turned back to Ross and said, “What next?” Clearly trying to keep moving, trying to keep something in front of herself.

“OK. Does Greg keep his appointment calendar at home?”

Beth covered her face briefly and then stood. “I’ll get it.”

Ultimately, they decided Beth would call Greg’s business and say that the whole family had caught a virus and Greg was particularly sick and probably wouldn’t be in for several days. They’d leave his secretary to cancel his appointments. Janine was on summer break, so she wouldn’t be missed until a birthday party later in the week.

In the middle of their plans, there was a noise at the front door. Ross ran across the living room with the handgun drawn. He looked out the window and felt like an idiot.

For there was a teenage boy walking away with a big bag slung over his shoulder. The paperboy.

“Jesus.” Beth stood beside him. “This is what we do now.”

Ross opened the door and picked up the paper. He was about to throw it down on the table when a small item at the bottom of the front page caught his eye. A late breaking story, just a few column inches. The second convenience store killing in as many days had occurred early that morning in Cambridge.

And the store owner had been shot in the face with a shotgun.

Chapter 19

Ross told him about Greg.

“Ah shit,” Crockett sighed. “Buried your own brother.” He rubbed his hands over his face, his stubbly beard rasping. He said, “You got any reason to think the girl is still alive?”

Ross lifted his shoulders. “He said we had one more chance. The way I look at it, the man had his hands on the money, he saw that it was real … and he lost it. I’m hoping that’ll eat at him enough that he’ll give it another try.” Ross slid a poster across the table.

Crockett looked at it, grunted. “So maybe he’ll call. What do you want with me?”

Ross passed the newspaper over and pointed to the article.

“Convenience store, shotgun.”

“Yeah? Your pal’s not the only one who sticks up grocery stores. We’ve got a thriving metropolis here, you know what I mean?”

“Shot the owner in the face. Same as with the store owner when he kidnapped Janine. And this store’s just a few miles away. Both cases, he took off in a car, though in this case the witness said he drove away alone.” Ross circled the name of the witness, Muriel Gray, age thirty-three.

“That’s a little different.” Crockett nodded. “Guys hitting stores in cities usually take off on foot, blend into the crowd.”

“And I saw him last night put his gun in Greg’s face.”

“Still means shit,” Crockett said. “Blowing a guy’s head off is part of the appeal of that particular weapon.”

“Maybe,” Ross said.

“Definitely.” Crockett showed no sign of recognizing what images might be going through Ross’s head right that moment, given how Greg had died.

Ross’s first night in the cell, Crockett had let him know how it was. “You’re gonna be passed around this block like a doll, young guy like you. Unless you know something about how to fight. It which case, you better be ready to hurt the first guy who tests you, and it’s gonna come soon. You hurt him bad, you break a bone, you make him bleed, and you make sure everyone sees it. And then do your time in the hole without crying about it.”

Now, Crockett stood and scratched his belly as he went over to the refrigerator and pulled out eggs and bacon and turned on the gas under the frying pan.

“So you want to do something,” he said. “You sure there’s anything to do except for wait by the phone? You said the kidnapper’s skinnier than Teague.”

“But Teague could have friends. Extortion is a pretty common piece of business for bikers, like that story you were telling about Gilchrist. And I hurt Teague pretty bad. That’s enough motive for a guy like that.”

“What if the kidnapper calls and you’re out dancing with Teague?”

“Beth’s by the phone, she can get to me on the cell phone.”

Crockett shook his head as he cracked three eggs into a bowl. “Bad business, Ross. Really bad. Seems to me you want to get some exercise, maybe ease your conscience? Show yourself that your Concord time had nothing to do with your niece getting kidnapped.”

“Psychology never was your strong suit, Crockett.”

Crockett snorted. “Like hell.”

“Besides, there’s one thing that’s kind of strange about what happened in the store.”

“What’s that?”

“The way Greg told it, he jumped the gunman before the guy actually told the woman to take Janine. Greg felt the guy was working up to kidnapping her.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the guy knocked Greg down with the gun, but he shot the owner. I mean, in the instant before he even committed himself to taking Janine, he knew to leave Greg alive and kill the owner, so there were no other witnesses.”

“Guys like that make up their minds fast. Not much thinking involved, but they jump to a conclusion and then they follow it. Besides, maybe he figured the store owner had a gun.”

“He didn’t. I asked Greg that, and he said he didn’t see a gun.”

“Yeah, but the guy wouldn’t have known that. He would’ve figured the store owner moving behind him might’ve had a piece behind the counter. Lot of them do.”

Ross nodded. “Yeah, that’s a point. But I still want to talk with Teague. Have that conversation.”

“Yeah, yeah. I made some calls, and got his address. You gotta promise me not to mention my name when you go see him. He’s stupid, but he’s too mean to let that slow him down much.”

Ross smiled as Crockett wrote down the address and said, “On to the next topic—how’d you like to try a completely different line of work?”

Holy Christ,” Crockett said an hour later as they parked in front of the house. “I’ve broken into nicer homes, but I’ve never been invited into one as nice.”

“Are you going to be able to do this?” Ross asked. In truth, he doubted Crockett had ever broken into a house, or at least not for many years. The man prided himself on being a professional, and for him that meant stealing from other professionals—bankers, armored car drivers—not widows.

Crockett said, “I can keep my hands off the cash and the silverware, yeah.” He blinked, and looked smaller and older than he ever had before. Ross looked at him more closely, and realized that Crockett was embarrassed. Maybe shy.

“C’mon.” Ross cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “You’ll be doing us a favor.”

“Like hell,” Crockett snapped. “You’ll be paying me.”

Ross grinned. “Wait in the truck a minute, OK?”

A bank robber?” Allie said. “You’re asking a bank robber to guard us and the money?”

“He’s smart, and he’s steady, and I’ve known him a long time.”

“Five years, right?”

Ross ignored that. “And he knows guys like the one we’re dealing with. He won’t hesitate to do what’s necessary if the kidnapper breaks in.” Ross paused. “And frankly, we can use all the help we can get.”

“Help doing what?” Allie said. “Just where will you be?”

“I’ve got to go out. Will you be staying here?”

“I’ve got some calls to make down the street. But after that I’ll come back. I can’t see leaving Beth alone with a bank robber and my gun. But you can?”

Ross nodded. “He’ll be fine. I trust him.”