A shaky nod. ‘I figured.’
Shorty gave the guy’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. ‘This is Johnny. He’s real smart, but talks slow. Give him space and let him get the words out. Nothing wrong with that, son,’ he murmured to the boy. ‘Just smoothing your way.’
‘Thanks.’ Johnny pointed to the door once Shorty was gone. ‘Should I close it?’
‘Please,’ Adam said. ‘I’m Detective Kimble. This is Special Agent Triplett. Have a seat and try to relax. We’re just asking questions.’
The boy sat nervously. ‘I know. I . . . can’t believe this. Andy was a good guy, honest.’
Adam’s smile was sad. ‘That’s what we hear from Shorty.’
‘And that man don’t lie,’ Johnny declared.
‘I know. I used to work here, a million years ago.’ It certainly felt like it.
Johnny nodded. ‘I seen you here before, eatin’. Shorty said you had my job once, but now you’re a cop.’
‘That I am,’ Adam said. ‘You and Andy were friends?’
Johnny shrugged. ‘We were friendly, but we didn’t hang out. We asked him a bunch of times, me and the other guys, but Andy always was studying. He was smart, but he never treated the rest of us like we weren’t, you know?’
Adam nodded. ‘Were you working with him last night?’
‘No. Shorty let me go home early. It was my girl’s birthday.’
‘Did you ever meet Andy’s girl?’ Trip asked. ‘Linnie?’
‘Twice, maybe three times. She was pretty enough. But . . . off. Like . . .’ He frowned again and went silent for a full minute. ‘Like a prickly porcupine. They’ve got cute faces, but you don’t want to touch. She had this stay-away vibe going on. Some of the guys would give Andy a hard time about her. Nothin’ mean, y’understand, just teasing. Andy would always insist they were just friends, but he wasn’t foolin’ us. He had it bad for the girl.’
Adam felt bad for the boy he’d never met. The boy who’d told Meredith to run. ‘Did he ever mention anyone else besides Linnie?’
Johnny went still, the frown of concentration reappearing. ‘Once he mentioned a guy named Shane. Said he and Linnie and Shane were friends before.’
‘Before what?’ Trip asked.
Johnny shrugged. ‘Just before. I’d said my dad would kick my ass if he found me smoking and Andy said he had to answer to nobody. Then he changed his mind. “Maybe Shane,” was what he said. When I asked, he said they were in high school together, but his friend got a full ride to some school up north. Andy said it was a good one. Said they hadn’t talked much since Shane left. He sounded really sad about that, so I let him be. Sorry. Wish I’d pried more now.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Trip said. ‘Did Andy ever say Shane’s last name?’
Johnny considered it for several seconds. ‘No. Sorry. Wish I’d asked.’
Adam gave him an encouraging smile. ‘You couldn’t have known to. Agent Triplett is right. You shouldn’t blame yourself. Can you tell us what brand of cigarettes he smoked?’
Johnny relaxed a little. ‘Camels.’
‘Great, thank you.’ Adam said, then he and Trip gave him their cards. ‘You’ve been a big help. If you remember anything more, please call.’
The door suddenly flew open, revealing a stunned Shorty. ‘Come here.’ He led them to the TV over the bar where the news was reporting a fire. ‘That’s the house Andy was living in.’ He showed them his laptop, Andy Gold’s employee information filling the screen. ‘It’s the same place.’
Fucking shit! Adam wanted to scream, but he kept his calm. ‘Thanks, Shorty. We’ll check it out.’ He gave him one of his cards. ‘Can you email me the addresses of the staff who were last working with Andy? We gotta run.’
‘Sure. Hey, Adam,’ Shorty called when he and Trip had turned for the door. ‘Be careful, okay? Just . . . be careful.’
The tremble in Shorty’s voice had Adam walking back to his old boss, clasping his shoulder. ‘Absolutely. I have a lot to live for, Shorty.’
Shorty shuddered. ‘I’m so glad to hear that. I was afraid for a long time that . . . Well. I’m glad to hear you say that now.’
Adam gave Shorty’s shoulder a hard squeeze. ‘Thanks. See you tomorrow.’
‘Shit,’ Trip said when they were outside. ‘A bomb attempt and now a fire? Somebody doesn’t want any trace of this kid to remain.’
‘You’re right,’ Adam agreed. ‘It also means Voss is either not connected or he had someone else set the fire.’
Trip’s nod was grim. ‘Because he’s trapped in his house.’
‘Yeah.’ Adam bit back his frustration. Voss was connected to Meredith, but he might not be who they were looking for. He needed to keep his mind open. ‘See you there.’
But first . . . He climbed in his Jeep and started it to get the heater going. Then texted Meredith. Something came up. B another hour. Maybe 2. Can come tmw if u r tired.
Her reply buzzed seconds later. Am awake. Waiting to talk to u. He drew an easier breath, but his next hitched in his chest at her next text. Be careful. Be safe. I’m waiting.
He wanted to whoop even as his eyes stung. She was waiting. He didn’t deserve it, but he was thankful just the same. Blinking hard, he pulled out of the Pies & Fries lot and headed for the house currently burning down.
Chicago, Illinois,
Sunday 20 December, 12.35 A.M. CST (1.35 A.M. EST)
Tiffany Curtis checked her cell phone when it buzzed, sighing in relief. A text from Kyle. Finally. She’d been frantic since handing him her keys at the Burger King.
Actually, the text wasn’t from Kyle, but from Shane. K driving now. We r ok. He says we r abt 2 hr away from Cinci. He will call you when we stop. Snowing hard now. Needs to focus on road. Eye-roll emoji. Srsly.
Tiffany had to roll her own eyes at the ‘seriously’ addition because Kyle was an awful driver. She’d thought twice about lending him her car, but he’d sounded so unnerved, so worried about Shane, that she’d agreed.
A second text had her sighing again, this time in pity. Thank you. Srsly. U don’t know what this means to me. – SB
Shane Baird was always so serious. It had become Kyle’s mission to make the guy smile and Tiffany was on board with that. She made a mental note to ask her mother to pack an extra box of Christmas cookies for her to take back to campus for Shane. His friend was dead – killed in that shooting, which had to be the worst thing ever. Cookies wouldn’t make it better, but it would at least show him that he wasn’t alone.
Because in all her life, she’d never met anyone as alone as Shane Baird.
NP, she texted back. Here for u. Hugs. She added a heart emoji and hit SEND.
A creak in the floorboard was the only warning she got before strong hands grabbed her from behind. Her phone clattered to the floor.
No! She opened her mouth to scream it, but a rag was shoved into her mouth and it came out a muffled . . . nothing.
Nothing her mom could hear, especially with her CPAP machine going.
Fight. Tiffany twisted wildly, catching her foot on a hard knee, but he didn’t even make a grunt. She continued to twist, trying not to sob, not to panic, but he yanked her to her bed and forced her face into her pillow, shoved his hard knee into her lower back.
Breathe. She couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating her on the pillow. She struggled, lashing one arm back to grab him, grab something. Scream. But her protests were barely a whimper.
He caught her wrists in one of his hands, dug his other into her hair, yanking her head back. ‘Fight me,’ he taunted in a low voice. ‘I like it.’
He flipped her to her back, one wrist in each hand now, trapping her hands on either side of her head. A sob caught in her throat and her eyes filled with tears, blurring the dark form now hovering above her.
She blinked hard. Keep it together. Be able to describe him. He wore a ski mask that showed his mouth and his eyes. His eyes . . . Even in the dark they scared her shitless too.