The Winner (57 page)

C
harlie rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared over at the phone. It had been a couple of hours since LuAnn had filled him in on all the recent developments and he still couldn’t get to sleep. So Jackson was really Peter Crane. That information personally did him no good, but Charlie figured it would help immeasurably the authorities’ efforts to track the man down. On the downside, if Jackson knew his identity had been discovered, Charlie figured he would be one pissed-off person. And Charlie wouldn’t want anyone he cared for to be in the vicinity of the gentleman if that was the case.

He pulled himself up from the couch. His knees were aching more than usual. All the driving was getting to him. He was very much looking forward to seeing LuAnn. And Riggs too, he supposed. Sounded like the guy had really come through for LuAnn. If he could pull all this off, well, it would be a miracle.

He went into the adjoining room and checked on Lisa. She was still sleeping soundly. He looked at her delicate features, seeing so much of her mother in them. She was going to be tall too. The last ten years had gone by so fast. Where would they all be next week? Where would he be? Maybe with Riggs in the equation, his run was coming to an end. He had no doubt that LuAnn would take care of him financially, but it would never be the same. But what the hell, the whirlwind that represented the last ten years with her and Lisa had been far more than he deserved anyway.

The ringing phone startled him. He checked his watch. Almost two
A
.
M
. He snatched up the receiver.

“Charlie?”

Charlie didn’t recognize the voice at first. “Who’s this?”

“Matt Riggs.”

“Riggs? Where’s LuAnn? Is she okay?”

“She’s more than okay. They caught him. They caught Jackson.” His tone was one of unbridled joy.

“Christ Almighty. Hallelujah! Where?”

“In Charlottesville. The FBI had put a team of agents together at the airport and he and his brother walked right into it. I guess he was coming to pay LuAnn back.”

“His brother?”

“Roger. The FBI doesn’t know if he’s involved in all this, but I don’t think they care. They’ve got Peter Crane. They want LuAnn to come to Washington in the morning to give a deposition.”

“Tomorrow? What about meeting us down here?”

“That’s why I called. I want you and Lisa to get packed up right now and meet us in Washington. At the Hoover Building. Ninth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue. They’ll be expecting you. I set it all up. If you leave now, you can meet us for breakfast. I personally want to celebrate.”

“And the FBI? The murder charge?”

“All taken care of, Charlie. LuAnn’s home free.”

“That’s great, Riggs. That’s the most wonderful news I’ve heard in I can’t remember how long. Where’s LuAnn?”

“She’s on the other phone talking to the FBI. Tell Lisa that her mother loves her and can’t wait to see her.”

“You got it.” He hung up and immediately started to pack. He would’ve loved to have seen Jackson’s face when the FBI busted him. The prick. He figured he’d pack the car before waking Lisa. Might as well let her sleep as long as possible. When she heard the news about her mother Charlie was sure further sleep would not be possible for the little girl. It looked like Riggs had come through after all.

His heart lighter than it had been in years, Charlie, a bag under each arm, opened the front door.

He immediately froze. The man was standing in the doorway, his face covered by a black ski mask, a pistol in his hand. With a scream of rage, Charlie threw the bag at him, knocking the gun free. Next, Charlie grabbed the man by the mask and hurled him into the room, where he slammed against a wall and went down. Before the man could get up, Charlie was on top of him, hammering him with lefts and rights, his old boxing skills coming back as though he had never left the ring.

The piston-like battering took its toll as the man slumped down, groaning from the furious beating, and lay still. Charlie turned his head as he felt the second presence in the room.

“Hello, Charlie.” Jackson closed the door behind him.

As soon as he recognized the voice, Charlie leapt for him, surprising Jackson with his quickness. The twin darts from the stun gun hit Charlie in the chest, but not before his massive fist collided with Jackson’s chin, knocking him back against the door. However, Jackson continued to squeeze the trigger, sending the massive electrical current into Charlie’s body.

Charlie was on his knees using all of his strength to try to rise, to kick the shit out of the man, to beat him into oblivion where he could hurt no one else. He tried to propel himself forward, every mental impulse in his brain craving nothing less than the man’s complete destruction. But his body refused to follow his orders. As he slowly sank to the floor, he stared at a terrified Lisa standing in the doorway leading into the bedroom.

He tried to say something, tried to scream to her to run, to run like hell, but all that came out was something that would hardly qualify as a whisper.

He watched in horror as Jackson staggered up, flew over to Lisa, and pressed something against her mouth. The girl struggled valiantly but it was no use. As her nostrils sucked in the chloroform she was soon on the floor next to Charlie.

Jackson wiped the blood from his face and roughly pulled his associate up. “Take her to the car and don’t let anyone see you.”

The man nodded dully, his entire body one large hurt from Charlie’s fists.

Charlie watched helplessly as the man carried the unconscious Lisa out. Then his eyes slid over to Jackson, who knelt down next to him, rubbing his chin gingerly.

Then, speaking in a voice that exactly impersonated Riggs, he said, “They caught Jackson. They caught him. I feel like celebrating.” Then Jackson laughed out loud.

Charlie didn’t say anything. He just lay there, watching, waiting.

In his own voice, Jackson said, “I knew my phone call would make you drop your guard just enough. Opening the door without checking first, no gun ready. How lax. You were really very diligent about not being followed, though. I knew you would be. That’s why on the very first night I was in Charlottesville, I entered the garage at Wicken’s Hunt and placed a transmitter inside the wheel well of each vehicle there, including your Range Rover. This particular transmitter was originally designed for military use and employs satellite-tracking technology. I could have followed you around the globe. It was very expensive, but obviously was well worth it.

“I knew after I met with LuAnn that she would send Lisa off with you and I needed to know exactly where you were just in case I needed little Lisa for the final showdown. I love strategic thinking, don’t you? It’s so rare when someone does it correctly. As it turns out, I do need her. That’s why I’m here.”

Charlie winced slightly when Jackson pulled the knife from his coat and he flinched again when Jackson pulled up the sleeve of Charlie’s shirt.

“I really love this device,” Jackson said, looking at the stun gun. “It’s one of the few instruments I’m aware of that allows one to have full control over another without seriously injuring them and still leaving them fully conscious.”

Jackson packed the stun gun away in his coat. He left the darts in Charlie. He wasn’t worried about leaving any evidence behind this time.

“You sided with the wrong person.” As Jackson said this he ripped open the shirtsleeve up to Charlie’s shoulder to give himself a clear space in which to work. “You were loyal to LuAnn and look where it got you.” Jackson shook his head sadly, but the smile on his face betrayed his true feelings of glee.

As slowly as he could, Charlie tried to flex his legs. He grimaced a little, but he could feel something down there. It hurt, but at least he could feel it. What Jackson didn’t know was that one of the darts had hit Charlie’s thick Crucifix, imbedding completely in it. The other dart had partially hit the medallion before entering his chest, with the result that the voltage that had rocked his body was far less than Jackson had counted on it to be.

“Now, the stun charge will last approximately fifteen minutes,” Jackson lectured him. “Unfortunately, the cut I’m about to inflict upon you will only take about ten minutes to cause you to bleed to death. However, you won’t feel anything, physically. Mentally, well, it might be rather unnerving watching yourself bleed to death and being absolutely powerless to do anything about it. I could kill you quick, but this way seems far more gratifying to me personally.”

As he spoke, Jackson made a precise and deep gash in Charlie’s upper arm. Charlie bit the inside of his jaw as he felt the sharp blade slice through his skin. As Charlie’s blood started to pour out in a steady flow, Jackson rose.

“Good-bye, Charlie, I’ll tell LuAnn you said hello. Right before I kill her.” Jackson snapped this last sentence out, his face a twisted mass of hatred. Then he smiled and closed the door.

Inch by agonizing inch, Charlie managed to roll over onto his back. Then, after an equally hard struggle, he brought his massive hands up, up until they closed around the darts. He was already dizzy from the blood loss. The sweat pouring off his brow, he pulled with all his strength and, little by little, the darts came loose and he tossed them aside. That didn’t lessen the numbness of his body, but it felt good nonetheless. With what little control he had over his limbs, he slid over to the wall backward and inched his torso up to a sitting position by levering himself against this solid surface. His legs were on fire, the equivalent of a million burning needles stuck in them, and his body was covered in blood, but he managed to thrust himself upward as though he were squatting weights and his legs held, his knees locked in place. Ironically, the stun gun’s impact had made his knees feel better than they had in years. Keeping himself pressed against the wall for support, he made it to the closet, which he managed to throw open. He pushed himself into the closet and gripped a wooden suit hanger with his teeth. All his limbs were on fire now, which was exhilarating because the slow return of his motor functions was becoming evident all over his body. He managed to grip the suit hanger in one hand and rip off the slender stem that normally kept trousers neatly in place. Dropping the rest of the hanger, he pushed off from the wall, propelling himself to the bed. Using his teeth and one of his hands, he shredded the bed sheet into strips. He worked more quickly now as his limbs returned to a semblance of normalcy. He was starting to feel nauseated; the blood loss was taking its toll. He was running out of time. As quickly as he could he wound a long strip directly above the cut and then used the thin piece of wood to torque down on it. The rude tourniquet worked its life-saving magic and the flow of blood finally halted. Charlie knocked the phone receiver off and punched in 911. After giving his location he sat back on the bed, sweat pouring off him, his entire body crimson from his own blood. He was still uncertain whether he was going to live or not, and yet all he could think about was the fact that Jackson had Lisa. He knew exactly what Jackson was going to do with her. The girl was bait. Bait to lure the mother. And when LuAnn went for that bait, Charlie knew exactly what would happen: Jackson would slaughter them both.

This terrifying thought was his last before he lost consciousness.

As the van moved down the highway, Jackson looked over at the unconscious Lisa, finally shining a penlight on her features so he could see them more clearly. “The spitting image of her mother,” he said to himself. “She has her fighting spirit too,” he added.

Jackson reached over and touched the young girl’s face. “You were just an infant when I last saw you.” He paused for a moment and looked out into the darkness before returning his gaze to her. “I’m very sorry it had to come to this.”

He rubbed her cheek lightly, before slowly withdrawing his hand. Roberta, Donovan, his sister, Alicia, and now the little girl. How many more people was he going to have to kill? After this was all over, he told himself, he would go to the most remote location he possibly could find and do nothing for the next five years. When he had cleansed his mind of the events of this past week, he would go on with his life. But first he had to take care of LuAnn. That was one death he was not going to lose much sleep over.

“I’m coming, LuAnn,” he said to the darkness.

LuAnn sat bolt upright in bed feeling as if every nerve were on fire. Her breath came in big chunks, her heart pounding out of control.

“Sweetie, what is it?” Riggs sat up and wrapped an arm around her quivering shoulders.

“Oh, God, Matthew.”

“What? What is it?”

“Something’s happened to Lisa.”

“What? LuAnn, you were dreaming. You had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“He’s got her. He’s got my baby. Oh, God, he was touching her. I saw it.”

Riggs pulled her around to face him. Her eyes were careening all over the room. “LuAnn, there’s nothing wrong with Lisa. You had a nightmare. Perfectly natural under the circumstances.” He tried to sound as calm as possible, although being wakened out of a dead sleep by this hysterical outburst had certainly unnerved him.

She pushed him off, jumped up, and started tossing things off the table next to the bed.

“Where’s the phone?”

“What?”

“Where’s the damned phone?” she screamed. As soon as she said it, she uncovered the phone.

“Who are you calling?”

She didn’t answer. Her fingers flew across the face of the receiver as she punched in the cell phone number. She was almost vibrating off the ground as she waited for an answer. “They’re not answering.”

“So? Charlie probably turned off the phone. Do you know what time it is?”

“He wouldn’t turn off the phone. He
never
turns off the damned phone.” She redialed, with the same result.

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe the battery’s dead. If he didn’t plug it in when he got to the motel.”

LuAnn was shaking her head. “Something’s happened. Something’s wrong.”