At least after experiencing Clint’s treachery firsthand, Samra had been willing to sacrifice client confidentiality. She’d given them access to all of Clint’s accounts—which now added up to less than a thousand dollars in total, not including whatever cash he’d stashed in his deposit box.
From the records, it seemed someone had drained the online accounts while Clint was in custody. Jenna had a damn good idea who that was but said nothing to Oshiro. He was more interested in Clint’s last visit to the bank in person—two days ago. Their security records had footage of Clint coming and going—there were no cameras inside the vault, although after Clint’s stunt, Jenna guessed that would soon change—as well as video of his vehicle, a silver Camry.
Most interesting, he hadn’t been alone. Two people had accompanied him. One was a fellow escapee, Paul Kroft, the younger of the two convict brothers who’d escaped with Clint. And a teenaged kid. Jenna didn’t recognize him, but after talking with Andre and learning what he and Morgan had found at the Radcliffe residence, she texted him a photo. He confirmed her hunch.
Gibson Radcliffe. Playing chauffeur to two escaped killers.
“Whatever Clint’s planning, it can’t be anything good,” she told Oshiro after she collected her weapons and they returned to the Tahoe. This time she let Oshiro drive, pretended it was because she needed to stay on her phone to follow up with Andre, but she was pretty sure he saw through her deception.
While they drove, she updated Oshiro on Gibson Radcliffe and the evidence of his involvement with Clint’s escape.
“So Clint grooms Gibson, coerces him to help facilitate the escape?” Oshiro said.
“From what Andre says about the kid’s journal entries, doesn’t sound like it took a whole lot of convincing.”
“Clint uses the funds he has access to and covers the supplies, transpo, probably a place for them to lay low…”
“Them? You think he’s still with the others?”
“Why else would one of the brothers accompany Clint to the bank? My guess is the brothers were the muscle behind the escape, and they didn’t do it out of the goodness of their hearts. They were expecting to be paid. Also explains why Clint chose them to partner with. Paul has experience with IEDs, and Pete worked in the prison’s infirmary.”
“Where he stole the drugs they used on the guards.” Clint and the others had escaped while en route to the courthouse. Always the weakest link in any incarceration: prisoner transport to outside facilities.
“Yes. We’re still looking into the attorneys involved—but my bet’s on someone in the courthouse. Whoever scheduled all of their court appearances for the same day. Not my team’s brief, so I don’t have details. But Clint has absolutely no history of using explosives—certainly nothing along the lines of the plans your partner found at Gibson’s.” Oshiro tapped the steering wheel in thought.
“I’ll bet it was the younger brother, Paul, who taught him how to rig that little surprise package back in the bank.”
“A few firecrackers is nothing compared to what they could build with the supplies Gibson ordered. Which takes us to a whole other level. We’re not just talking bombs to be used to defend their hidey-hole or as a diversion.”
“I think you might need to get the ATF guys taking a real close look at what a guy with Paul Kroft’s background could build with the stuff Gibson obtained.”
“On it.” He steered with one hand as he grabbed his phone. A few minutes later he hung up after a conversation that was extremely one-sided with Oshiro doing the listening. “It’s not good. We’re talking some major damage and multiple devices.”
“What kind of damage? As much as the Boston Marathon?”
“More like Oklahoma City. If they use all of their supplies.” He blew his breath out. “I don’t get it. None of these guys have any indications of terroristic inclinations. They aren’t radicals. The Kroft brothers are hyper-violent meth heads always looking and failing to find a big score. And your guy, Caine, he’s a psycho-sexual sadist. What the hell are they doing playing with bombs? They should be out there running for the nearest sunny beach in a country without extradition. Or holing up in a nice, quiet farmhouse, waiting for things to die down.”
“Seems like they don’t want things to die down. They want to make some noise. A lot of it.”
“But why? And when and where?”
“Not to mention: how many people are going to die?” she finished for him.
“None. Not on my watch.”
“There’s only one place to start. The kid.”
He jerked his chin in agreement. “We need to put this Gibson kid and everything he’s touched under a microscope.” He dialed his phone once more. “I want to know where and who this kid’s been in contract with for every second of every day since he first reached out to Caine,” he ordered.
Oshiro listened, tensed, then said, “On our way.”
“What?”
“Someone just phoned in a bomb threat to the kid’s school.”
She glanced at the clock on the dash. “It’s real.”