After the disconnect, she couldn’t avoid Crawford’s grin. “You called me tall, blond, and badass?”
“I didn’t, Marilyn did.”
“Will you hire her back?”
“I don’t know. More importantly, did you hear the part about Neal being at my house?”
“Yeah.” His grin faded as he sighed. “I should have left you out of this, but I couldn’t rely on Grace to back me up. Joe could’ve browbeat her into claiming that I had relinquished Georgia to them without any stipulation that it was temporary.
“I needed you there, but I hate further involving you in what Joe correctly called a mess of my making. Although hell if I know what I did to piss off Otterman, a man I’d never even seen before he walked into the police station.”
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Looking at his profile, she was struck by how utterly fatigued he appeared. There were dark crescents under his eyes. The hollows beneath his cheekbones were more pronounced than usual.
She asked, “When did you sleep last?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“Joe’s no pushover, and I’ve fought him twice today. Then the episode with my old man. None of my run-ins with him are easy. But what really took it out of me was having to tell Georgia good-bye.”
“Which you’ve also done twice today.”
“Both times wrenching. Tonight was different, though. She sensed something was wrong. I goddamn hate that she’s worried. I couldn’t promise her when I would see her again, and the fact is…”
“The fact is?”
“If Otterman has his way, I never will.”
Suddenly, he sat up straight and opened his eyes, the darkened sockets making them look extraordinarily bright with resolve. Thumping his fist on his thigh in time to his words, he said, “I can’t let that happen. I may not regain custody of her, but I’ll go to hell and back before checking out on her.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay alive. Stay underground long enough to get Otterman before he gets me.”
“How do you intend to go about that?”
“That’s the tricky part. I’m working on it.”
“You could turn yourself in to Neal. Enlist his help.”
“No way. He’s bowed his back on Otterman.”
“Maybe he’s changed his mind.”
“I can’t chance it. I’d be hamstringing myself.”
“There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind?”
“Sorry, Holly, no.”
She pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to face him. “Then you need to get out.”
Crawford watched Holly’s taillights disappear, then struck off walking swiftly, hoping to blend into the darkness and keep from being seen. First order of business was to find shelter from the rain. He covered a couple of blocks before coming upon a vacant house with a “For Sale” sign in the yard.
Crouching against the back wall of the open carport, he called Harry Longbow and woke him up.
“Sorry, man,” the other Ranger said around a yawn, “still haven’t turned up squat. Not a thread connecting Otterman to you, or to anyone close to you. But I had to get some shut-eye. I called to let you know that I was taking a break, but got your voice mail.”
“I had to leave my phone behind.”
“Aw, hell. That doesn’t sound good.”
“Pat Connor’s turned up dead, and Otterman issued me a threat.”
Harry grumbled, “There goes my nap.”
Crawford gave him the rundown. “I got Georgia out of town. That was top priority.”
“Where’re you and the judge now?”
‘She’s on her way home.”
“What about you?”
“If you don’t know, you can’t tell. It will occur to Neal to ask if you’ve heard from me. I’m surprised he hasn’t called you already. When he does, you can honestly tell him that you don’t know where I am or what my plans are.”
“I’ll bring Sessions up to speed, so he won’t be taken unawares.”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe you ought to let the prick take you into custody. Jail’s at least safe.”
“It’s also sorta confining.”
“There’s that.”
“How’s the major taking it that I’m implicated in a murder?”
“Says it’s about the deepest bullshit he’s ever had to wade through. He’s calling Neal Lester bad names, and he hasn’t even met him yet.”
Any other time, Crawford would have laughed. But the situation was no laughing matter. “I’m attributing Chet, Rodriguez, and now Connor to Otterman. A body count of three, just this week. I want this son of a bitch, Harry.”
“I’ll get right back on it.”
“No, finish your nap. Otterman is probably regrouping tonight, too. He had a busy day. The park video. The titty bar meeting.”
“The execution.”
“He didn’t shoot the video and he didn’t pop Connor. He doesn’t do his own dirty work. He’s got Frick and Frack.”
“Who’re they?”
“A pair of bodyguards. And then there are the Pat Connors.”
“Facilitators too dumb to say no to him?”
“Too scared, maybe. You know what this is feeling like? Organized crime shit.”