The actual handover of the judge’s daughter would take place at 9:00 P.M. At that meeting, Logue would also give the judge the password to a bank account he’d set up in her name. At ten, a second meeting would take place, between Logue and Madison, who’d be posing as the judge. That one, the feds knew about, because they’d listened in on the call setting it up. Presumably they’d be surveilling it. God, she hoped they would. Because either meeting could be an ambush. And either woman could wind up dead.
They were sitting in the room at the Best Western with the blinds drawn. It was dark outside, and they hadn’t ventured out since breakfast. The judge said they should eat something. They’d need their strength. Madison would need hers, especially. She called down to the desk clerk, who got them takeout sandwiches from the gas station next door. But neither one could eat. They just took a few bites and cast the sandwiches aside, not that they were great anyway. Ten o’clock on the Mass. Ave. bridge was just three hours from now. The time hung over Madison like a threat of death. Which it was. What she’d agreed to do was incredibly dangerous.
Judge Conroy was having doubts on Madison’s behalf.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” she said. “You don’t have to do this for me. You haven’t even known me that long.”
“I’ve known you ever since I saw you speak at Career Day. Ten years. That’s how long you mattered to me. I want you to have the life you deserve. Anyway, I’m not doing it just for you. I have my own reasons. To help Danny. You know that.”
“The risk to you is so great. Is it worth it? For me, if I stay behind, they’ll kill me. But for you—”
“They’d kill me, too. And the feds would refuse to let Danny go. Judge, stop trying to talk me out of it. I’ll be okay. Not only am I a strong swimmer, but I swim the Charles every year when they do that public access thing. I love it, actually. The water is surprisingly clean. I’ve experienced the current. I know what to expect.”
“But in the cold? At night? In bad weather?”
“The water is warmer than the air at this time of year. Give me a wetsuit and a headlamp, and I’ll be fine.”
“Theo is bringing those. But you still have to jump. People die doing that.”
“The distance isn’t far. I can handle it. My college roommate had a cabin in the White Mountains. There was a flooded quarry where we’d dive in and swim. I never had a problem there, and that jump was longer. You go in feet first to break the surface tension, that’s all. Really. I know what I’m doing.”
“Madison, I’m scared.”
“So am I. But we’ve been over this. It’s the only way they’ll stop looking for you. The only plan that achieves both our goals.”
That ended the discussion. Because she was right.
Time passed. Around eight thirty, Theo texted to say he was outside with the judge’s car. Judge Conroy watched from behind the blinds to make certain that he hadn’t been followed, then went out to meet him. She returned with the car keys and bags containing everything they’d need. A wetsuit, a headlamp, wigs, and the judge’s beautiful plaid raincoat that Madison so admired. Too bad it was going to end up in the river. After switching clothes and donning the wigs, they stood side by side in the cramped bathroom gazing in the mirror and giggling like kids at how much they looked like one another.
“For the first time, I actually believe this will work,” Judge Conroy said.
Madison agreed, but her stomach was full of butterflies.
In the parking lot, under cover of darkness, they paused to say goodbye. The woman with long dark hair, wearing an enormous black puffer coat, was about to get into an old Volvo with New Hampshire plates and drive off on the first leg of a journey. It was a hazardous journey to a distant land, and they knew she might not reach her destination. The second woman had bright auburn hair and wore a distinctive plaid trench coat. She was highly recognizable, easy to spot, even as a heavy snow started to fall, obscuring visibility. She was about to do something so dangerous that even her history as a competitive swimmer hadn’t fully prepared her. She might not survive the next hour, but if she did, she’d free them both and save her family in the process.
“I can never thank you enough for what you’re about to do for me. And what you’ve already done. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will. Be safe, Judge.”
“Call me Kathy. Judge never felt like it belonged to me. Besides, I don’t think of you as the intern. You’re my friend.”
They hugged quickly, going their separate ways with tears in their eyes, knowing that, whatever happened, their goodbye was final.
* * *
Madison wore a wetsuit under her clothes and carried a waterproof headlamp in the pocket of the trench coat. But one hazard she hadn’t prepared for was the snow. They’d checked the forecast, of course, but the flurries that were called for had unexpectedly morphed into a major snowstorm, the first of the season. Heavy, wet flakes came down hard, looking like a flight of moths in the headlights. Traffic was light, but the roads were slick and icy. Even though she was driving well under the speed limit, she had to fight to keep the car from spinning out on turns. She arrived at the Mass. Ave. bridge nearly half an hour late, with white knuckles and sweaty armpits, wondering if the other participants were still in place, or whether the whole plan would be a bust before it started.
At that hour, in that weather, the area around MIT was quiet. She pulled into an open parking space less than a block from the bridge, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. The snow was coming down hard, limiting visibility. That might be a good thing. In this weather, from a distance, the FBI would never know that the redhead in the plaid coat was an impostor. On the other hand, they needed to be able to see her leap into the Charles. If they missed that key moment due to poor visibility, she’d be risking her life for nothing.
As she crossed the street to the pedestrian walkway, a figure started toward her from the other side of the bridge—a hulking man in a dark overcoat with thinning white hair. Raymond Logue. Her heart thumped in her chest. Judge Conroy had vouched for “Uncle” Ray. But to Madison, he’d always be the dirty lawyer who framed her little brother, and she could never really trust him.
They met in the middle of the span.
“Kathy,” he said.
The greeting surprised her. They stood no more than two feet apart. He could clearly see her face and must know that she was masquerading as the judge. Why call her by the wrong name? Maybe he didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him, and he was worried she was wired?
But then he winked and smiled, with a flash of Irish charm.
“You’re late, kid. I was worried you weren’t gonna make it.”
“Yeah, this crazy weather,” she said, and her voice was unsteady. Now that the moment was upon her, her whole body was shaking.
“Well, it didn’t stop your friends from the FBI. We got company. I make at least three surveillance vehicles. You walked right by ’em.”
“They saw me?”
“Yes, and they’re watching now. So let’s make this quick. It’s supposed to be a handoff. You got something for me?” he said, opening his jacket and reaching inside.
Madison gasped, reeling back.
“Hey, hey, take it easy,” he said, pulling out an envelope. “This is just for show, to make it look like an exchange is happening in front of them. I handed over the kid an hour ago. Didn’t Kathy explain?”
“Yes, sorry. I’m just really nervous,” she said, her heart starting up again after skipping several beats.
His eyes were bloodshot and rheumy. But not unkind.