Wake the Devil (16 page)

R
achel Lawrence saw Jack’s eyes shift past her shoulder and turned to see who or what he was looking at.

“Have a seat,” she told Beth. “We’re celebrating my escape.”

“Your escape?”

“Don’t be angry with Detective Pappas. He brought me to your headquarters. I snuck out after he was gone.”

Beth turned to Jack, who started to rise and didn’t quite make it. He sat back down heavily, reached forward, and pushed a chair out for her.

“What a nice surprise,” Jack said. “Elizabeth Sturgis . . . Doctor Rachel Lawrence. Doctor Lawrence . . . the lovely Elizabeth Sturgis.”

Beth shook her head and sat down. Jack’s eyes were bloodshot and his face flushed.

“It’s nice of you to join us,” Jack said. The “nice” came out as “nicesh.”

Rachel and Beth exchanged glances.

Beth asked, “Does headquarters know you escaped?”

“Jack called them.”

“What are your plans?”

“Before or after I bury my husband? The funeral’s on Monday. You’re invited. My sister’s been taking care of the details.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Jack searched for the waitress, spotted her, and held up three fingers signaling for another round. Beth reached behind his back and waved her off. If Jack noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Life goes on. That’s what Jack was telling me,” Rachel said.

“Fine,” Beth said. “Life goes on. But yours won’t if you’re running around out here. Have I mentioned there’s a killer stalking you?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Rachel said. “I have to go out of town tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“For an operation.”

“Where?”

“NYU’s Medical Center.”

“The one in Manhattan?”

“You know it?”

“I lived there for a couple of years.”

“Don’t get all bent out of shape,” Rachel said. “It’s a short procedure. Tricky, but short. I should be back tomorrow night.”

“Isn’t there anyone else who can handle it?”

“Several people, actually. But the parents have been with me since we started. They asked me to do it. I agreed.”

“And it’s a one day trip?”

“If there are no complications. I don’t anticipate any, but you never know. It’s possible I might have to stay an extra day. Certainly not more. I have to get back for George’s—”

“Right,” Beth said. “Is there any way the operation can be put off?”

“That wouldn’t be fair to the child.”

Beth looked at Jack who had his eyes closed and appeared to have fallen asleep sitting up. His chin was resting in his hand.

Several seconds passed before Rachel said, “I apologized for hitting him and told him it wasn’t his fault. I’m not sure he heard me.”

“It might not make a difference if he did,” Beth said. “He takes everything so personally. I’m sorry about Dr. Landry.”

Rachel broke eye contact and looked out the window at the restaurant’s patio. Candles fluttered in round glass holders on the tables. Between them were odd-looking portable outdoor heaters that resembled mini lampposts. Except for one couple who seemed immune to the temperature, the patio was empty. When the weather was warm, you couldn’t move out there.

“I was wrong to have slapped him,” Rachel said. “He’s a good man. Tell him I’m sorry.”

“Tell him yourself,” Beth said. “You’re the one who hit him.”

“I was upset.”

“You had every right to be,” Beth said. “He nearly killed himself trying to get to you. Nobody could have stopped what happened.”

“I get that . . . now,” Rachel said. “Will was trying to defend me . . .”

“I know.” She’d seen his body and the lamp he was holding when he rushed the killer. It was the desperate and courageous act of a brave man. The image just broke her heart. She looked at Jack and brushed the hair off his forehead.

“I’ll tell him when I see him again,” Rachel said.

“Any way I can talk you out of this trip?”

Rachel took a second to align her paper napkin with edge of the table. Dissatisfied, she made a few minute adjustments. Beth waited.

“In the last forty-eight hours, I’ve lost a husband, a friend, and learned there’s a man out there who wants to kill me because I saw something in a parking garage. Now my medical practice is in danger of collapse. Stu’s fighting to hold things together. Maybe he will. I don’t know. What I do know is I can’t give up anything else, like my self-respect, which I’d be doing if I ran off and hid someplace. Does that make any sense?”

“It does,” Beth said. “How ’bout if we make a deal? Stay at our house tonight.”

“Our?”

“Jack and I live together.”

The surprise registered in Rachel’s face.

Beth continued, “Along with the biggest German shepherd you’ve ever seen. She’s awesome and totally protective. If you’re not safe there, you won’t be anywhere.”

Rachel smiled and stared at her hands for a moment. “So you’re the love of his life. I thought he was just being poetic.” Glancing quickly to see if he was still asleep, she leaned closer and lowered her voice. Beth leaned in as well. “He wants to marry you.”

A smile spread across Beth’s face. She hunched her shoulders, and whispered back, “I know.”

Three Days to the Grand Jury

M
ornings are a bad time for people who drink too much. The gargoyles from the night before tend to linger and reach out to their victims from the soft edges of sleep. Jack woke up with a headache and went straight to the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee and a bagel. When that was done, he took his breakfast out to the porch. A ground mist had formed, hovering just above the lawn. The cool air felt good. He swallowed two Tylenol, sat back on the glider, and closed his eyes. One of the gargoyles perched itself on the top rail, watching him through yellow eyes.

His belief that he was responsible for the deaths of Will Landry and Ed Mundas had retreated only marginally in the early dawn light. If he had only understood what the Sandman was planning sooner, both men might still be alive. Morris Shottner called that having irrational expectations. Maybe he was right. To Jack, they had never seemed irrational. Normal perhaps, but not irrational. Sometimes putting that kind of pressure on himself worked; sometimes it didn’t. One day he’d have to find a balance between the two.

Marta sat beside him, content to be close. Every once in a while she’d look up at him, then back at the lawn. He wondered what those looks meant and what she was thinking. Vague recollections of the previous night came and went, but they were all a jumble. Beth was there, as was Rachel Lawrence. He just couldn’t remember where “there” was, or how he’d gotten home, or getting into bed. Or why there was an unfamiliar suitcase in his living room with a name tag that said “R. Lawrence.”

The guest room door was closed. Being a detective, he concluded Dr. Lawrence was now their houseguest. He didn’t recall inviting her. Jack took a sip of coffee and felt the hot liquid moving through his body, warming him. It was a pleasant sensation. The gargoyle hopped off the porch and disappeared into the mist.

In the cherry trees at the back of his property, the birds were beginning to wake. A blue jay landed on the porch and looked at him. Like most birds, it was in a constant state of motion: its head moving in staccato fashion, wings fluttering, hopping. Marta watched it without visible enthusiasm. Jack broke off a small piece of bagel and tossed it onto the lawn. The bird flew down, grabbed it, and took off. Marta’s look was reproachful.

They were still sitting there when Dan Pappas pulled into his driveway. The big detective got out. Marta trotted down the steps to greet him and stood on her hind legs while he rubbed her neck.

“Morning, Jack. You’re up early.”

“So are you.”

Pappas bent down and put up with several kisses. “Thought I’d give you some advance warning. Carmine Donofrio called me at six
AM
wanting to know why Rachel Lawrence is running around loose.”

“Loose?”

“His words, not mine.”

“She’s not loose. I imagine she’s asleep in our guest room.”

Pappas accepted two more kisses from Marta and said, “She likes my aftershave.”

“She likes you,” Jack said. “Coffee?”

“Stay where you are. I can manage.”

That was fine because Jack had no intention of getting up. He was waiting for the Tylenol to kick in. Marta and Pappas disappeared inside and returned a minute later with Marta chewing a bone-shaped dog biscuit. “I had no choice,” Pappas said, taking a seat. “She forced me.”

Jack laughed, which only made his head hurt worse.

Pappas continued, “Donofrio was pretty hot under the collar. I thought I should be here when he arrives.”

“He’s arriving?”

“That was my impression,” Pappas said, and took a sip of his coffee. “Where do you buy this stuff? It has a kinda—”

“Raspberry taste. Beth picks it up at Harry’s Farmer’s Market. They carry about a hundred different blends. That’s her flavor of the week.”

Pappas nodded and took another sip.

Jack summoned the energy to ask what Donofrio wanted.

“Ask him yourself.” Pappas pointed to a black Crown Victoria that had just turned onto Jack’s street. The car pulled into the driveway and parked behind the detective. Jack pushed himself up and came down the steps. Carmine Donofrio and a man shaped like a fireplug with short black hair that came to a point on his forehead got out of the car. Donofrio was already dressed in a suit and tie. Impressive for that hour of the morning. Everything about the way his companion carried himself indicated he was a cop. Donofrio said good morning and introduced Barry Newsome with the United States Marshal’s Service.

“Barry,” the deputy marshal said, offering his hand.

They shook.

“C’mon inside,” Jack said. “I’ll fix you some coffee.”

“Your witness left police headquarters last night without permission.”

“Actually, she’s not my witness,” Jack said. “I assume you’re referring to Dr. Lawrence?”

“Don’t jerk me around, Kale,” Donofrio said. “You advised your switchboard she was with you.”

“That’s correct,” Jack said. “Would you like to discuss it out here or come inside?”

“You’ll admit this is a bit unusual?”

“I’ll admit that.”

“No offense,” the marshal said. “But we need to see she’s all right.”

Without waiting for Jack’s response, Newsome started for the steps. The moment he did Marta stood and growled low in her throat. Newsome stopped where he was.

“Hold your hand out and let her sniff you,” Jack said.

“Really?” Newsome asked uncertainly.

“She tends to be protective.”

The marshal did as instructed.

“How does she feel about lawyers?” Donofrio asked.

“Same as everybody,” Jack said.

Pappas stifled a laugh.

Donofrio gave him a sour look and cautiously extended his hand to Marta. Her tail finally wagged. Jack led everyone into the den and told them to make themselves comfortable. Newsome and Donofrio declined the coffee.

“Helluva business downtown yesterday,” Donofrio said. “It’s a shame it didn’t turn out better.”

“Both witnesses would be dead if Jack hadn’t figured out what the Sandman was up to,” Pappas pointed out.

“It’s possible. But if they were in a federal safehouse like I’d asked, both of them might be alive and we wouldn’t have had to evacuate almost fourteen thousand people in the middle of the day. Any idea what that cost?”

“Not a clue,” Pappas said, taking another sip of coffee.

“Have the model airplane guys we picked up talked?” Jack asked.

“About what, flying?” Donofrio said. “Because that’s exactly what they were doing. We found no explosives and it’s not against the law to fly them. We questioned them for five hours. It was a complete bust.”

“Who’s we?” Jack asked.

“My office and the ATF. After that, the Fulton County DA and I spoke at some length. Neither of us could think of anything to hold them. They were released early last night.”

“So you think they were there just by coincidence?” Pappas said.

“Nobody thinks that,” Donofrio said. “But you need criminal charges to hold people. The ATF thought it was best to cut them loose and see who they hook up with. They’re following as we speak.”

While Donofrio was talking, Beth came down the stairs. She took one look at the men assembled in her living room, nodded to everyone, and made her way into the kitchen.

“Not wise to speak to her before the first cup of coffee,” Jack said.

“Wasn’t that Detective Sturgis?” Donofrio asked.

“I believe so. Dan?”

Pappas leaned forward and looked into the kitchen. “No question about it.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you lived together.”

Jack smiled. Said nothing.

“You are the strangest group of people,” Donofrio said. “Now, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind producing Dr. Lawrence?”

“She’s in the shower,” Beth said, coming back into the room.

“We’ll wait,” Donofrio said. He introduced Barry Newsome to her, then said, “Would someone mind telling me what a government witness was doing here last night?”

Beth informed him, “We figured Rachel was safer here than in her own home.”

The U.S. Attorney nodded thoughtfully. “I guess I can’t argue with that. My question is, why was she out in the first place? Look, I don’t want to be an ass, but it’s obvious things aren’t working out. The facts pretty much speak for themselves.”

“Facts rarely speak for themselves,” Jack said. “It’s the interpretation people put on them that gets us in trouble.”

As they were talking, Rachel Lawrence came down. She was dressed in a navy-blue pant suit and her hair was still wet from the shower.

“Did I hear my name mentioned?”

Donofrio stood. “Dr. Lawrence, I’m glad to see you’re all right. You went through a harrowing experience yesterday. I’m Carmine Donofrio with the United States Attorney’s office. I believe you’ve spoken to Sandy Tatum who works with me.”

“Ms. Tatum’s the one who interviewed George and me, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am. She did.”

“Coffee, Rachel?” Beth asked.

“Please. Black is fine.”

Beth went back to the kitchen and returned with a large cup, which she handed to her.

Donofrio continued, “We were discussing you, Doctor. We’d like to take you someplace where you’ll be safe. This is a terrible business we’re dealing with.”

“I was quite comfortable here,” Rachel informed him.

“I’m sure you were. Obviously, this is a temporary arrangement. If I may be blunt, we’re far better equipped to protect you. Now if you’ll pack your things, we can be on our way and not bother these people anymore.”

Rachel turned to Beth. “You agree with this?”

“First I’m hearing about it. I just woke up.”

“What about you?” Rachel asked Jack.

“Same here. Mr. Donofrio has a point though. They are better equipped to protect you.”

“There,” Donofrio said. “Now if you’ll just get your things—”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No, no, no, of course not,” Donofrio said. “This is for your own good.”

“I appreciate your concern. I believe I’ll stay here for the time being.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Donofrio said. “Please don’t make me force the issue, Doctor.”

The pleasant expression faded from Rachel’s face slightly. “And how would you do that?”

“If I have to, I’ll get a judge to place you in protective custody. I hope that won’t be necessary.”

“Meaning you’d have to file some kind of paper with the court.”

“Yes. But that won’t be a—”

“Thank you for your concern,” Rachel said. “I’m sure we’ll talk again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some things to attend to before I leave.”

“What do you mean, leave?” Donofrio said.

“I’m scheduled to do surgery in Houston later this afternoon. There’s a very sick little girl there who needs me.”

The attorney let out a breath. “I simply cannot allow that.”

“You simply can’t force me to stay. The last time I checked this is still the United States.”

Donofrio turned to the deputy marshal and said, “Arrest her.”

“For what?”

“I don’t give a damn. I’ll figure it out later.”

Suddenly Newsome didn’t look so well. He shook his head in resignation and turned to find himself staring at Dan Pappas, or to be more precise, the second button from the top of Dan Pappas’s shirt.

Pappas looked down at him and smiled. “Don’t do that, Barry.”

“If you interfere with a U.S. Marshal in the performance of his duty, it’ll mean the end of your career. What’s more, I’ll prosecute you myself,” Donofrio said.

Newsome’s face turned red. “I don’t need you fighting my battles, numb-nuts. You produce a legitimate order, I’ll serve it. But I’m not making something up.” He turned back to Pappas and added, “And I ain’t afraid of you.”

Pappas frowned then turned to Beth and asked, “Where’d I go wrong?”

*

After Donofrio and the marshal left, Beth said to Rachel, “You told me the operation was in New York.”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“With all the excitement, I guess I got confused.”

“Is it really scheduled for this afternoon?”

“Absolutely. We need to get moving.”

Pappas and Jack both caught the word “we” and looked to Beth for an explanation.

“Dwayne Stafford and I are going with her,” Beth said.

“You are?”

“Mm-hm.”

Jack considered that for a moment, then commented, “It’s good to be in charge.” He turned to Marta and asked, “You know anything about this?”

Marta looked the other way.

“What time is your flight?” Jack asked.

“Whenever we get there. The girl’s family chartered a plane for us,” Rachel said.

“And all three of you are going?”

“New York’s a dangerous place, Jack. We’ll be home tonight or tomorrow. You and Dan need to stay here and follow up on the Sandman. Rachel’s probably safer there when you think about it. No one but the girl’s family and the people in this room know we’re going.”

That made sense. Jack turned to Pappas for his opinion. The big detective lifted his shoulders.