CRIMINAL CHRISTMAS: A Set of 8 Holiday Suspense Stories, page 82
I was somewhat surprised he didn’t smell like alcohol or appear to be drunk, because I couldn’t think of any other reason he’d just show up on my doorstep unannounced at this hour. Then I noticed the other two men behind him. All three were wearing slacks and dress shirts under their coats; one of them even had on a tie. They looked like they had just come from the office.
“He’s escaped!” Scanlon blurted. Before I processed those words, my heart rate accelerated and body broke out into a cold sweat. “He’s out, Rebecca, and one of the guards is gone also.”
“Holy shit,” I gasped, feeling lightheaded.
Scanlon searched my eyes, studying my reaction, and then he breathed a sigh of relief as my expression of dumbfounded shock confirmed what he had hoped it would—that I hadn’t already known. His scrutiny veered a few inches down from my face and I realized, suddenly feeling naked, I’d been wearing a sweater and scarf when he spoke to me in the front yard the previous afternoon. This was his first opportunity to see the damage. “Jesus, your throat,” he whispered, pushing my hair back behind my shoulder and giving my neck a thorough examination. “You’re all bruised. Are you okay?” he asked, his concern unconcealed.
“Sort of…I don’t know.” I shrugged and then winced as I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. His hand dropped down from my hair and he placed his palm on my back, rubbing gently.
“Listen, Rebecca, may we search your premises?”
“What? Why?”
“Oh, it’s not like that. I’m not accusing you of harboring him,” he said quickly, accurate about what had alarmed me. “I don’t have a search warrant. This is entirely up to you. I’m just thinking about your safety.”
“Oh, okay. Yes, by all means. Come on in.” I stepped back and held the door open for the three men to enter. “Feel free to search the entire house.”
“I should introduce you. Rebecca, this is Steve Pollock and Dan Finlay.” The two men smiled and nodded, Finlay said it was nice to meet me, and they went to work, each hurrying off in a different direction to start their search. Then it was Scanlon’s turn to lead me to the couch in my living room. He saw the empty glass and whiskey bottle on the coffee table. “Oh dear, you had yourself quite an evening, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m out of whiskey but do you want a beer or a cooler?”
“No, and you shouldn’t either. You need a clear head right now.”
“Fair enough,” I said, but I didn’t have to like it. We sat on my couch and I turned to him, pulling my bathrobe tighter around myself. “How did he escape?”
“They have security footage of two guys in guard uniforms leaving together. One of them was wearing a baseball-cap to block his face from the cameras—that was Eisenbrey.”
“So he had an accomplice?”
“It looks that way. The officer that was with him didn’t appear to be in any distress. They just looked like two employees having a friendly conversation as they walked.”
Out of everyone I’d met at the prison, there was only one guard that seemed to like Tom, one that might have been young and naïve enough to do something reckless. “Was it Lutz?” I asked with some trepidation.
“No, Lutz is the guy they found dead in a storage area near the control room. Sliced from ear to ear,” Darryl said, shaking his head.
“Andy’s dead?” For some reason hearing that news frightened me even more than the news Tom had escaped. My mind whirled.
“Yes.”
“Oh God, no. I can’t believe this is happening. Not Andy. He was such a nice young man.” While my head still reeled from the news about Lutz, Scanlon told me something that absolutely blindsided me.
“Eisenbrey left with a guard by the name of Richard DiMaggio.”
“Are you shitting me? Rick DiMaggio and Tom hated each other. DiMaggio’s done some very abusive things to Tom. That makes no sense.”
“Yes, on the surface that’s how it looks, but maybe it makes perfect sense. Their differences must have been a ruse, because no one who’s seen the security footage believes that he was taken against his will. They even said goodnight to a guy on their way out. DiMaggio must have brought Eisenbrey a guard’s uniform to change into and then helped him with the escape. That’s the only way it could have gone down.”
“Jeez! And Lutz…” Suddenly, the reality hit me. Lutz, that sweet young man who had watched out for me, who had walked me to my car on two occasions, out of kindness and concern, was dead.
The tears came. I reached an unsteady hand toward a box of Kleenex, took a few tissues, put my head in my hands, and then let it all out. Scanlon placed a warm hand on my shoulder and rubbed as the sobs shook my body, giving me several moments to compose myself. When I was finally able to speak, I told him, “Tom liked that guy. They were friends. I liked him. Oh God, do you think Tom killed him?”
Scanlon sighed. “Probably. But on the other hand, if DiMaggio helped Eisenbrey escape, we don’t know what’s going on in his head or what he’s capable of. We have to assume he might also be willing to kill.” Scanlon’s fingers moved to the back of my neck as he continued the soothing motion. “Look, Rebecca, people like Eisenbrey don’t have friends. They don’t care for people. I know you think he cares about you but…”
“Oh, shit, don’t go there right now,” I moaned, wondering if Scanlon was right.
“Look, I know you said you didn’t want to see me anymore, but that’s not going to work for me tonight,” he said softly. “It’s possible he might come here. I mean, he’d have to be crazy to think he could do it without being apprehended, but I’d rather be extra careful. I think you should spend the rest of the night at my place.”
“Darryl, I can’t do that.” And I really couldn’t. What if I did spend the night at Scanlon’s house and what if Tom found out? I didn’t want to think about the possible repercussions.
Finlay and Pollock came back and reported that the house was clear. Scanlon thanked them and returned his attention to me.
“Then I’ll stay here. And these two will be in an unmarked car across the street. We’re going to have officers watching your house tonight, just in case. Tomorrow we need to move you somewhere else.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I objected.
“Yes, you fucking do, and I won’t take no for an answer. I’m not willing to gamble with your life. I can’t even begin to describe how I’d feel if something bad happened to you.” He looked away quickly, but not before I noticed his eyes starting to water. His hand trembled as he raised it to his forehead, rubbing his temple. It looked as though Finlay saw it too.
“Yeah, we’ll just be out in the car,” said Finlay.
Pollock said, “Later,” and the two of them made a hasty exit, closing the door quietly on their way out.
“Darryl, I think that’s a bad idea too. You’re not safe here.”
“For crying out loud, woman. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a trained officer and I have a gun. Do you honestly feel I’m not equipped to protect both of us?” He raised his finger in warning. “If you say yes to that I’ll consider it a personal insult.”
He had a point. He was one of the people the public depended on for protection, but I still felt afraid for him. Tom had demonstrated, time and time again, his talent for knowing information he shouldn’t have had access to. And he had told me specifically not to see Scanlon. If he ever found out...
“Tom would be so angry if he knew you were here,” I said.
“So what? Tom’s an angry guy. We need to assume we’re all on his hit list.” His golden-brown eyes flared, defiantly. “Look, Rebecca, you’ve got three options: I stay in the house with you and the two FBI boys stay in the car…yes, they’re with the bureau. Or the other two options are: I stay in the car and one of them stays inside with you or, if you really want to be difficult, you can make all three of us stay in the car. But I should warn you, I’m not above bringing you down to the station for questioning if that’s the only way I can keep you safe.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Fine,” I relented. “I’d like you to stay inside with me, not one of the agents.”
He gave me a satisfied smile. “Good.”
“What time did he escape?”
“A little after midnight.”
I looked at my watch; it was nearly 2:00 a.m. So it happened about two hours ago. “Were you expecting to find him here? Is that why your buddies did the search? Walla Walla is a four hour drive.”
“For all I know he could have access to a plane or a helicopter but, no, I didn’t believe he was here, at least not after I arrived. I think I would have been able to tell if he was here.”
“Why?”
“Well, this is going to sound a little weird, but whenever I’ve been near Eisenbrey in the past I’ve had this…feeling. I’m not sure how to describe it, but it’s as if there’s some kind of tension in the air around him. Whatever the hell it is, it sets off all my alarms and puts me on high alert. It’s spooky.”
“I know what you mean,” I muttered.
“You do? Well then why the hell would you…” I saw the proverbial light bulb above his head ignite. He said, “Oh…how is it that I didn’t see this before? That’s what you like about him, isn’t it? You like that scary feeling.”
I frowned, but didn’t answer, which frustrated him.
“Come on, Rebecca, we’re both adults here. I’m not going to chew you out. I’m just trying to understand. You can tell me.”
That was close to the truth. Scanlon was exactly the kind of man that I could tell everything to; my hopes, dreams, and my fears—well, almost everything; but I didn’t want to discuss the things about Tom that turned me on. That would be a cruel conversation.
His expression seemed friendly and open on the surface, but something else stirred underneath—anger possibly? Or perhaps just pain. I remembered something, and used it to evade his question. “Darryl, I asked Tom once what he’d do if he ever got released. He said he’d come after you. I didn’t tell you at the time because I thought it didn’t matter. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think he’d ever have the opportunity.”
“That’s okay,” Darryl said. He didn’t look phased. “I expected that. I know he hates me. He blamed me for his incarceration.” He added, “Don’t you worry about me. I mean that.” Then he gave me one of those smiles that made me feel like, somehow, everything would to turn out okay. Scanlon was my sentinel.
Darryl took the high road and didn’t fuss me when I offered him my guest bedroom. He just kissed my forehead and wished me good night. As I lay in my bed, staring up at the little imperfections in my ceiling, I considered my situation. It looked grim.
My alcohol buzz had worn off, and my head was clearing up. I thought about my last visit with Tom. The attack had come out of nowhere. What had caused him to turn on me? I racked my brain, trying to remember our conversation, wishing I could play back the recording I’d made but, in all the confusion, I’d left my recorder at the prison. I didn’t know what had become of it. I recalled what I could from memory.
I’d asked him what he would do if he got out. He said he’d go after Scanlon, a threat I’d dismissed at the time, but at this point a bona fide concern. He told me that he wanted to make love to me, which I’d felt happy about right up until he put me in a chokehold through the bars of his cell. I recalled Tom asking me, “What if we could have that every night? Is that what you’d want?” And after that, “What price would you be willing to pay?” I shivered underneath the thick comforter on my bed.
I had told him, “Anything”—a word I knew would haunt me.
What was the mysterious price he had alluded to? Perhaps I’d already paid it by being choked, but that seemed too easy. Tom wasn’t the type of man to make things easy. He’d complained about being restrained during our wedding visit, but that had been out of my control. He understood the restraints were a necessary part of the deal, given his history of violence. I suspected his irritation about that wasn’t really what had caused him to strike. But, if not, what could his purpose have been?
And then it dawned on me—the attack had caused Tom to be moved from his cell to a different part of the prison with DiMaggio. And if DiMaggio was the officer who had assisted him in his escape—those two things must be connected. If this was true, what did it mean for me? Was it possible he wasn’t angry with me at all, that he had only hurt me in order to escape? The incident had been terrifying and my neck was now covered with bruises. But, worst of all, I was left with no way of knowing how Tom really felt about me.
Since meeting Tom, I had gone from wondering how soon I could get my life over with to wishing it would never end. And the irony of it all was that the odds of me dying before my time had probably increased a great deal now that Tom was in my life.
The sick things that had fed my irresistible attraction to Tom: his lust, his fury, his complete lack of moral code, his desire for domination and ultimate power, had excited my mind and my senses when they were safely contained. But the seduction of the danger only worked for me if I had the option to walk away from him. I needed that control. Without it, I felt like I was drowning.
I’d allowed myself to fall in love with him because he was unobtainable. I thought it didn’t matter if I let my guard down, if I did something brain-dead and perilous. I didn’t have to be strong enough to listen to myself think This is utterly insane; you can’t be with a man who might kill you one day because it’s something he enjoys doing. The penal system had done that for me. They had decided Eisenbrey should never again have the opportunity to be alone with other humans unsupervised and unrestrained. And they had been right.
No. I would never have started the relationship if I thought escape was a possibility. What had I done? The last several weeks had been one unwise choice after another, each one progressively worse than the one before, until I had finally gotten to the point where I’d lost my mind and married him, a fact that still seemed unreal to me. But, technically, I’d done nothing criminal. I had nothing to do with the Hunter’s escape. So why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I had just unleashed the devil?
Chapter 36
Six hours ago, I’d wondered why Darryl hadn’t objected to the guest room. It had seemed easy. Too easy. When I woke up, I found out why.
My bedroom door was ajar. I pushed it open to find Darryl sitting on a padded chair he’d borrowed from my kitchen for his post as sentry in my hallway. His head drooped downward, his firearm rested on his thigh and the palm of his hand on his firearm. My presence must have roused him from his restful state. His face, as he turned it up to me, held an expression of exhausted love, the likes of which I had never seen. And for a moment, I wished I’d offered him the other side of my bed the night before.
Darryl sat up straight and reached his arms out from his sides, stretching. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really. I was too worried. Did you sleep at all?”
“Nah… I just closed my eyes for a moment, but I’ve been awake.”
“Want some coffee?” I offered.
“That sounds great,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He stood and brushed my hair gently back from my face as he looked down at me. “You’re just a wee thing without your heels.”
“No. I’m average height,” I said, putting on a mock air of defensiveness.
“Sure you are,” he replied. He chuckled, and put his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. He breathed in, and said in a dreamy voice, “Your hair smells nice.” As he embraced me, I felt part of the gun he still held pressing against my lower back. I’d forgotten it was in his hand. The seriousness of my situation returned to the forefront.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“I’ll go talk to Finlay and Pollock. We’ll give the house and yard another quick search. And you should start packing up whatever you want to have with you for the next few weeks. Do you have some family to stay with?”
“My aunt and uncle.”
“Does your uncle have a gun?”
“Yes. I know he has a rifle; he might have a handgun also.”
“Good. I’m going to have one of our officers take you to their house. I wish I could do it myself, but I’m meeting with the task force this morning and I’ll have my hands full until Eisenbrey’s back in custody. Where do they live?”
“Easton. I don’t want an officer to drive me. I need my car.”
“I’ll have him follow you then. I want him to make sure you arrive safely, and he should search the house. I’ll ask him to address any security issues he sees, make sure your uncle’s weapons are in working order and that he has ammunition.”
“Jeez.”
“I’m not playing around, Rebecca. I need to know your uncle can protect you while I’m searching for Eisenbrey. I’m afraid to have you out of my sight.”
After Scanlon left, I called my aunt. I told her about the escape and about my need to stay with them. I promised to fill her in on the rest when I arrived. Then I called Captain Barnett’s office, and was immediately patched through to him.
“Hi, it’s Rebecca Reis. I want you to know how very sorry I am about Andy Lutz. He was such a kind and wonderful young man. I just…” I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes again, and my throat constricted in anticipation of the crying I was about to do. I swallowed. “I just thought the world of him.”
“Me too,” Barnett said curtly.
“I was wondering if you could tell me where and when Andy’s funeral will be.”
“Why? You don’t intend to show up there, do you?”
“Well, yes.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?”
