He’d trekked across eleven backyards altogether, going around the cul-de-sac and down five more houses. He now leaned up against the back of the house that sat directly across the street from the home he’d shared with Rita for almost eight years.
He was tired and his arm burned like it was literally on fire. He didn’t want to check it. He’d probably popped a stitch or two, with all the vaulting over fences. He’d have to get an antibiotic soon, because it was probably infected. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Even worse, not one of his neighbors seemed to be home. There seemed to be no cars to steal in any of the houses all the way to the end of the street. Everyone was out. What busy neighbors he had, he thought bitterly. They were oblivious to the real world around them. Out working or shopping or at school pageants.
He felt a pang. Ariel’s Christmas pageant was today. She was going to be one of the reindeer. He’d miss it. He’d miss her. Forever. Because he couldn’t take her with him.
He’d had kids with Rita more as a cover than because he’d wanted them. He’d never thought he’d grow so attached to them. But it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t take his family with him and he didn’t want them visiting him in prison.
There was no choice. I’ll do what I have to do to get out of here.
He considered breaking into one of the houses and holing up, but that was suicide. Once Novak discovered he wasn’t in Wainwright’s house, he, Kimble, and Bishop would begin a house-to-house search. He’d rather keep going and take his chances.
He peeked around the corner of the house where he’d stopped to rest and saw the wall of SUVs that Kimble had formed. In my own driveway, the bastard.
Yeah, they believed he was in Wainwright’s house. I can’t stay here. I can’t.
It was just as well that none of his neighbors were home right now. He’d be stopped before he cleared a stolen car from any of the driveways on his street. Too many fucking cops. He’d keep going, sticking to the backs of the houses until he got to the next block. Besides, nobody home meant no calls to 911 ratting him out.
He’d get to the next block and find a car there, before they realized he was no longer in Wainwright’s house. Because then they’d lock the whole neighborhood down.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Monday 21 December, 12.10 P.M.
Meredith saw the thumbs up Deacon gave her as she was driven away, but Adam was fully engaged in talking to Linnie and he didn’t look back. She knew she shouldn’t want him to turn to her, because he was focused and doing his job. But she still did.
She’d been instructed to stay in the back and to stay down. Priding herself on not being stupid, she’d obeyed – even as she lost her mind with worry. Adam, out there unprotected save the tactical gear he wore, with a killer who could be hiding anywhere. Every second ticked in her mind like a crashing hammer.
She’d taken her entire daily dose of anti-anxiety medication after Adam’s near miss this morning in the church parking lot. And she felt utterly justified having done so.
God, how she wished for a coloring book! The scrap paper in her lap had been an envelope she’d found in her purse, but now it was torn apart, flattened, and covered in the complex designs she’d sketched while waiting. She gripped her pretty pink tactical pen so hard her fingers ached, but she couldn’t seem to relax her hold.
‘You okay back there?’ Nash Currie asked. ‘If you’re cold I can turn up the heat.’
‘No, I’m fine,’ she called back. ‘Did you draw the short straw?’ she added, because he’d been assigned with delivering her back to the hospital safely. AKA, babysitting duty.
He looked into the rear-view with a small smile. ‘And if I say yes?’
She made a face. ‘Then I’ll believe you’re not lying.’
He laughed. ‘Well played, Dr Fallon.’
‘Meredith,’ she corrected. ‘If Adam is allowing you to drive me, he must trust you a lot, so I think we should cut the formality.’
‘Meredith then,’ he said, sounding pleased. He was driving slowly and carefully, because the two news vans had been joined by six more in the few minutes she’d sat alone. Reporters had spilled into the street, vying for the best view of Hanson’s house. ‘You should stay down. These reporters will try to take your photo otherwise.’
Again she complied, folding herself into the tight space on the floor between the rear bench seat and the captain’s chair in the middle. ‘Done and done.’
He swore again. ‘These news vans are blocking the damn road. I’m going to zigzag around them. Hold on.’ He made an abrupt left turn and she winced when her head smacked the van’s wall. She scooted forward, resting against the chair’s arm rest.
‘I saw the video of you with the little Voss girl. Penny. I was impressed,’ Nash said.
‘She wanted to tell. I just smoothed it a little.’
‘I worked Personal Crimes for a long time. I was IT. Never led on a case, but I’ve watched enough victim interviews to recognize someone with a gift for communication.’
‘Thank you,’ Meredith said soberly. ‘You were on the case with Adam. Paula.’
‘I was.’
She drew a breath. ‘Why do you think Hanson did it?’
There was a long pause and another sharp turn, this time to the right. ‘I’ve been wondering that. And I remembered that right before Paula first made contact with Adam, he’d done this interview for Channel 12. One of those “Heroes Among Us” pieces.’
‘Because he’d been coaching the deaf kids. He told me.’
‘Yeah. Did he tell you that after the piece ran, he was pursued by all the networks? Even CNN. He has a face for TV, you know.’
Meredith smiled. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘He was Mr Popular, but still nice. Never let it swell his head. Even when he was voted Sexiest Cop by a women’s magazine.’
‘I missed that,’ Meredith said dryly. ‘But I think I get your point. He was golden and Hanson was jealous. He wanted to pull Adam back. Humble him. Break him, even.’
‘Yes. And then Adam did solve a case. A big one. Two teenaged girls being peddled online. A local man was setting appointments and taking payment through a website.’
‘I remember that. I didn’t know that was Adam’s case.’
‘ICAC got credit, but Adam did a lot of the footwork. The brass knew. One day our boss kind of joked that Adam should mentor the rest of us. It was light-hearted praise and we all knew it. Except Hanson. He was not pleased.’
‘So he set Adam up, then ripped him apart. Adam and you.’
‘Yeah,’ Nash said gruffly.
‘Are you all right, Nash? I’m not asking as a therapist. I’m asking as someone who’s grateful you stood up for Adam.’
‘I’m okay. I mean . . . it was rough. My marriage couldn’t . . . didn’t take the strain.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘She couldn’t handle my depression. My kids pulled me out. Made me go to counseling. It— Holy shit. Hold on. I’m backing up.’ The van came to a hard stop, backed up and swerved to the left before coming to another hard stop. ‘Stay down.’
He jumped out of the van and Meredith edged back to the driver’s side wall, lifting herself enough to peek out the window. They’d stopped for a black SUV pulled onto the shoulder. She heard Nash curse, then he was back in the driver’s seat, radioing for help.
‘This is Detective Currie. I need backup and an ambulance for—’
The driver’s door was yanked open, and Nash was pulled out of the van. Meredith started to move but there was a terrible thud against the side of the van that made the vehicle shudder.
No. No, no, no. Meredith watched in shocked denial as Wyatt Hanson casually set a pistol in the cup holder.
Oh my God. Nash. Did he kill him? If Nash wasn’t dead, he was injured. If he finds me, he’ll kill me too. The thought of it yanked her out of her shock and she pulled her gun from the bra holster. Not going down without a fight.