Harlan Coben 3 Novel Collection Page 33

  “Did you have fun, Cassandra?”

  “I had lots of fun,” Cassandra said in the flattest monotone. “Mr. Alexander was just great.”

  There was a brief pause. Cassandra licked her lips and glanced toward someone who was out of the shot, as if waiting for her cue. It came soon enough.

  “How old are you, Cassandra?”

  “I’m fifteen.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Cassandra nodded. Someone off camera handed her a sheet of paper. “I just turned fifteen last week. Here’s my birth certificate.” She put the document close to the lens. For a moment the picture was blurry, but then someone worked the focus. Cassandra held it up for nearly thirty seconds. Born at the Mercy Medical Center in Nampa, Idaho. Parents were named Mary and Sylvester. Dates were clearly visible.

  “Mr. Alexander said he wanted someone fourteen,” Cassandra said, as if reading her lines for the first time, “but then he said I’d be okay.”

  The camera went back to static.

  Olivia sat in silence. So did Kimmy. It took a while for the full weight of what Clyde Rangor had done to hit her.

  “My God,” she said.

  Kimmy nodded.

  “Clyde didn’t just blackmail them with prostitutes,” Olivia said. “He set them up with underage girls. He had their birth certificates for proof. He even pretended that the johns were the ones who requested pubescent girls, but either way, even if you claim that you thought the girl was over eighteen, that’s a serious crime. This guy, this Mr. Alexander, he didn’t just risk being embarrassed or found out. He could be ruined. He could end up in jail.”

  Kimmy nodded.

  The static ended and another man appeared on the screen.

  “This is Mr. Douglas,” the whispery voice said.

  Olivia felt her blood go cold. “Oh, no.”

  “Candi?”

  She moved closer to the screen. The man. The man on the bed. No question about it. Mr. Douglas was Adam Yates. Olivia watched transfixed. Cassandra entered the room again. She helped him undress. So that was it. That was why Clyde had gotten so desperate. He had taped an important federal officer. He probably didn’t know that—not even Clyde Rangor would be that stupid—and when he tried to blackmail him, it had all gone wrong.

  “You know him?” Kimmy said.

  “Yeah,” Olivia said. “We just met.”

  The front door burst open. Olivia and Kimmy both spun toward the sound.

  Kimmy shouted, “What the . . . ?”

  Cal Dollinger closed the door behind him, pulled out his gun, and took aim.

  Chapter 57

  LOREN HAD RENTED A CAR.

  Matt said, “So how do you think it worked here? Darrow got the ball rolling?”

  “It makes the most sense,” she agreed. “Darrow somehow finds out about your wife having a daughter. He remembers the autopsy. Then he starts to figure out what really happened back then. He knows there was money involved. He hires some muscle to help out.”

  “That would be Charles Talley?”

  “Right, Talley.”

  “And you think he found Olivia when she answered that post online?”

  “Yes, but . . .” Loren stopped.

  “What?”

  “They found Emma Lemay first.”

  “As Sister Mary Rose.”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she was trying to make amends. I mean, I got the whole story on her from the Mother Superior. Sister Mary Rose has lived a good and pious life since she changed IDs. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe she saw the post too.”

  “And tried to help?”

  “Yes. And that might explain that six-minute phone call from St. Margaret’s to your sister-in-law’s house.”

  “She was warning Olivia?”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. But they probably found Emma Lemay first. The medical examiner says they tortured her. Maybe they wanted money. Or maybe they wanted your wife’s name. Whatever, Emma Lemay ends up dead. And when I try to find out her true identity, it sets off warning bells.”

  “And this FBI guy. Yates. He hears them?”

  “Yes. Or maybe he already knew about Lemay. Maybe he was using that as a cover to come out and get involved, I’m not sure.”

  “And you think Yates is trying to cover something up?”

  “I have a source who told me about this blackmail taping involving underage girls. He’s not sure if they’re real. But if they are, yeah, I think that somehow he’s tied into all this. I think he took me off the case because I was getting too close. He’s in Reno too right now.”

  Matt faced front. “How much longer?”

  “Next block.”

  The car had barely made the turn when Loren spotted Cal Dollinger near a trailer. He was hunched down, looking through a window. She slammed on the brake. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “We need a weapon.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “That’s Yates’s man. By the window.”

  Dollinger stood up. They could see him reach into his jacket and pull out a gun. With a speed that defied his bulk, Dollinger moved to the door, pushed against it, and disappeared inside.

  Matt did not hesitate.

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  He didn’t look back, didn’t break stride. He sprinted toward the house. He could see through the window into the trailer.

  Olivia was there.

  She stood up suddenly and put up her hands. Another woman—he assumed it was Kimmy Dale—was there too. She opened her mouth to scream. Dollinger was pointing the gun at them.

  He fired.

  Oh, no. . . .

  Kimmy fell. Olivia dived from view. Matt did not let up. Dollinger stood not far from a window. Using all his momentum, realizing that time was past the point of essence, Matt leaped toward the glass. He tucked his chin and led with his forearms.

  The glass shattered with surprising ease.

  Matt got his legs under him. He landed and again there was no hesitation. Dollinger still had the gun. His mouth had dropped open in surprise. Matt did not want to lose that. He jumped straight at him.

  It was like jumping against a cement block. Dollinger barely gave at all.

  “Run!” Matt shouted.

  Dollinger reacted now. He aimed his gun at Matt. Matt took hold of Dollinger’s wrist with both hands. He pulled. So did Dollinger. Even though Matt was using two hands against Dollinger’s one, Matt was losing the battle of strength. With his free hand, Dollinger hit Matt in the ribs with an uppercut. Matt felt his belly collapse, the air go out of him. He wanted to collapse and writhe on the floor.

  But he wouldn’t.

  Olivia was here.

  So he held on to the wrist with all he had.

  Another fist slammed under his rib cage. Matt’s eyes watered. He saw dark spots. He was losing consciousness, losing his grip.

  A voice screamed, “Freeze! Police! Drop your weapon!”

  It was Loren Muse.

  Dollinger let him go. Matt sank to the floor. But only for a second. He looked up at Dollinger. Dollinger had a funny look on his face. He glanced about the room.

  Loren Muse was nowhere in sight.

  Matt knew how this would go. Dollinger would wonder why she wasn’t showing herself. He would remember that she had just flown over from Newark, that she was a county investigator, that the authorities would not let her travel with a gun.

  He would realize that Loren didn’t have a weapon. That she was bluffing.

  Olivia was crawling toward Kimmy Dale. Matt looked over at her. Their eyes met. “Go,” he mouthed. He looked back up at Dollinger.

  Dollinger had put it together now.

  He swung his aim back toward Olivia.

  “No!” Matt shouted.

  He bent his legs and pushed off as if they were two pistons. He knew something about real-life fights. He knew that the good big man almost always beats the good
little man. But he didn’t care about winning. He cared about saving his wife. He just needed to do enough so that Olivia could get free.

  And Matt knew something else.

  Even the biggest, strongest men have the same vulnerable spots as the rest of us.

  Matt positioned his hand for a palm strike. He leaped up and smacked Dollinger in the heart of the groin. The big man made an oof noise and bent at the waist. He grabbed Matt on his way down. Matt tried to straighten. Dollinger was too big.

  Vulnerable spots, he thought. Hit the vulnerable spots.

  Matt reared back with his head. The skull landed on Dollinger’s nose. Dollinger howled and stood up. Matt looked over at his wife.

  What the . . . ?

  Olivia had not run away. He couldn’t believe it. She was still by Kimmy’s side, working on her friend’s leg, feverishly trying, he assumed, to stop the bleeding or something.

  “Get out!” he shouted.

  Dollinger had recovered. The gun was aimed at Matt now.

  From the other end of the trailer Loren Muse let out a cry and pounced on Dollinger’s back. She reached around for his face. The big man pulled back, his nose and mouth covered with blood. He threw Loren off like a bucking bronco. She landed hard against the wall. Matt jumped up.

  Go for the vulnerable . . .

  He tried to get Dollinger’s eyes and missed. His hand slipped down. They ended up on the big man’s throat.

  Just like before.

  Just like all those years ago, on a college campus in Massachusetts, with a boy named Stephen McGrath.

  Matt didn’t care.

  He squeezed hard. He put his thumb on the hollow of the throat. And he squeezed some more.

  Dollinger’s eyes bulged. But his gun hand was free now. He raised his weapon toward Matt’s head. Matt let go of the throat with one hand. He tried to deflect Dollinger’s aim. The gun fired anyway. Something hot sliced into the flesh above Matt’s hip.

  His leg went slack. His hand dropped off Dollinger’s neck.

  Dollinger had the gun ready now. He looked into Matt’s eyes and started to squeeze the trigger.

  A shot rang out.

  Dollinger’s eyes bulged a little more. The bullet had hit his temple. The big man folded to the floor. Matt spun and looked at his wife.

  In her hand she had a small pistol. Matt crawled over to her. They looked down. Kimmy Dale wasn’t bleeding from her leg. She was bleeding from a spot just above the elbow.

  “You remembered,” Kimmy said.

  Olivia smiled.

  Matt said, “Remembered what?”

  “Like I told you,” Olivia said, “Kimmy always kept a gun in her boot. It just took me a few seconds to dig it out.”

  Chapter 58

  LOREN MUSE SAT across from Harris Grimes, the assistant director in charge who ran the FBI’s Los Angeles field office. Grimes was one of the most powerful federal officers in the region, and he was not a happy man.

  “You realize that Adam Yates is a friend of mine,” Grimes said.

  “It’s the third time you’ve told me,” Loren said.

  They were using a room on the second floor of the Washoe Medical Center in Reno. Grimes narrowed his eyes and chewed on his lower lip. “Are you being insubordinate, Muse?”

  “I’ve told you what happened three times.”

  “And you’ll tell it again. Now.”

  She did. There was a lot to cover. It took hours. The case wasn’t over. There were still plenty of questions. Yates was missing. No one knew where he was. But Dollinger was dead. Loren was learning that he, too, had been well liked by his fellow agents.

  Grimes stood and rubbed his chin. There were three other agents in the room, all with legal pads, all keeping their heads down and jotting away. They knew now. No one wanted to believe it, but the videotape of Yates and Cassandra spoke volumes. Grudgingly they were beginning to accept her theory. They just weren’t liking it.

  “You have any idea where Yates would have gone?” Grimes asked her.

  “No.”

  “He was last seen at our Reno office on Kietzke Lane maybe fifteen minutes before the incident at Ms. Dale’s residence. He checked in with a special agent named Ted Stevens, who’d been told to trail Olivia Hunter when she arrived at the airport.”

  “Right. You told me. Can I go now?”

  Grimes turned his back and waved his hand. “Get the hell out of my sight.”

  She stood and walked downstairs to the emergency room on the first floor. Olivia Hunter sat by the ER receptionist.

  “Hey,” Loren said.

  “Hi.” Olivia managed to smile. “I just came down to check on Kimmy.”

  Olivia had suffered no real injuries. Kimmy Dale was finishing up at the other end of the corridor. Her arm was wrapped in a sling. The bullet had missed bone, but there was serious muscle and tissue damage. It would be painful and need hours of rehabilitation. But, alas, in this era of getting people out of the hospital pronto—six days after having his chest cut open Bill Clinton was reading in his backyard—they finished asking their questions and told Kimmy that she could go home but needed to “stay in town.”

  “Where’s Matt?” Loren asked.

  “He just came out of surgery,” Olivia said.

  “Did it go okay?”

  “The doctor said he’ll be fine.”

  The bullet from Dollinger’s gun had grazed the neck of Matt’s femur just below the hip joint. The doctors needed to put in a couple of bone screws. Fairly minor surgery, they said. He’d be up and out in two days.

  “You should get some rest,” Olivia said.

  “Can’t,” Loren said. “I’m too wired.”

  “Yeah, me too. Why don’t you sit with Matt in case he wakes up? I’m just going to get Kimmy settled and then I’ll be right up.”

  Loren took the elevator to the third floor. She sat next to Matt’s bed. She thought about the case, about Adam Yates, about where he was and what he might do.

  A few minutes later Matt’s eyes blinked open. He looked up at her.

  “Hey, hero,” Loren said.

  Matt managed a smile. He turned his head to the right.

  “Olivia?”

  “She’s downstairs with Kimmy.”

  “Is Kimmy . . . ?”

  “She’s fine. Olivia’s just helping her get settled.”

  He closed his eyes. “There’s something I need you to do.”

  “Why don’t you rest?”

  Matt shook his head. His voice was weak. “I need you to get some phone records for me.”

  “Now?”

  “The camera phone,” he said. “The picture. The video. It still doesn’t add up. Why would Yates and Dollinger take those pictures?”

  “They didn’t. Darrow did.”

  “Why . . .” He closed his eyes again. “Why would he?”

  Loren thought about that. Then Matt’s eyes suddenly opened. “What time is it?”

  She checked her watch. “Eleven thirty.”

  “At night?”

  “Of course at night.”

  And then Loren remembered. The meeting at midnight. At the Eager Beaver. She quickly grabbed the phone and called down to the emergency room receptionist.

  “This is Investigator Muse. I was down there a few moments ago with a woman named Olivia Hunter. She was waiting for a patient named Kimmy Dale.”

  “Right,” the receptionist said, “I saw you.”

  “Are they still there?”

  “Who, Miss Dale and Miss Hunter?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, they hurried out the same time you left.”

  “Hurried out?”

  “Into a taxi.”

  Loren hung up. “They’re gone.”

  “Give me the phone,” Matt said, still flat on his back. She nestled the phone next to his ear. Matt gave her Olivia’s cell number. The phone rang three times before he heard Olivia’s voice.

  “It’s me,” he said.

  �
��Are you okay?” Olivia asked.

  “Where are you?”

  “You know where.”

  “You still think . . .”

  “She called, Matt.”

  “What?”

  “She called Kimmy’s cell. Or someone did. She said the meeting was still on, but no cops, no husbands, nobody. We’re on our way over now.”

  “Olivia, it has to be a setup. You know that.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Loren is on her way.”

  “No. Please, Matt. I know what I’m doing. Please.”

  And then Olivia hung up.

  Chapter 59

  11:50 P.M.

  THE EAGER BEAVER

  RENO, NEVADA

  WHEN OLIVIA AND KIMMY ARRIVED, the fat man at the door pointed to Kimmy and said, “You left early. You got hours to make up.”

  Kimmy showed him her arm in a sling. “I’m hurt.”

  “What, you can’t get naked with that?”

  “You for real?”

  “This.” He pointed to his face. “This is me being real. Some guys get turned on by that kinda thing.”

  “An arm in a cast?”

  “Sure. Like the guys who get off on amputees.”

  “I’m not an amputee.”

  “Hey, guys get turned on by a strong wind, you know what I’m saying?” The fat man rubbed his hands together. “I used to know a guy who got off on toe jam. Toe jam.”

  “Nice.”

  “So who’s your friend?”

  “Nobody.”

  He shrugged. “Some cop from New Jersey was asking about you.”

  “I know. It’s okay now.”

  “I want you to go on. With that sling.”

  Kimmy looked at Olivia. “I might be better able to watch up there, you know. Like I won’t be noticed.”

  Olivia nodded. “Up to you,” she said.

  Kimmy disappeared into the back room. Olivia sat at a table. She did not see or notice the crowd. She did not look in the dancer’s face for her daughter. There was a rushing in her head. Sadness, an overwhelming sadness, weighed her down.

  Call it off, she thought. Walk away.

  She was pregnant. Her husband was in the hospital. That was where her life was now. This was in the past. She should leave it there.