open. “Jack, your picture! It’s all over the place.” She went to the television set and turned it on. Images of the burnt wreckage in the desert and pictures of Jack’s face flashed across the screen. After a moment another picture appeared: a picture of Kate and her father taken weeks before they headed for the Caribbean. Next to the picture was a drawing, a composite showing what she might look like now. The likeness was too close. Her stomach knotted.
She and Jack both looked toward the parking lot at the same time. Two police cars were parked outside.
Jack shot to his feet. “Grab your things. We’ve got to go. Now!”
Kate grabbed her bag. She ran to the window and closed the curtain. “It’s too late. Two cops are headed this way.” She didn’t waste any time turning around and shoving most of her things into the top dresser drawer. Jack’s half of the bed looked as if it had never been slept in. Perfect. Gathering the water bottles and the snacks, she threw them into another drawer.
“What are you doing?”
Without answering, she took hold of Jack’s hand and pulled him into the bathroom. She turned the shower on full blast.
“What’s going—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Shhh. They’re coming. Stay quiet. Let me handle this.”
She pulled off her dress and her panties and stepped into the shower, immersing herself under water. A knock sounded on the door. She squeezed excess water from her hair and left the water running. She wrapped a towel around her head and another around her body. She left the door to the bathroom partially open so the cops could see that nobody else was in the room. She unlatched the chain and opened the hotel door a crack. She managed a frown of concern. “Can I help you?”
One of the cops pushed the door a bit wider, poked his head through the opening and looked about. “We’d like to come in and talk to you, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sort of busy.” Her gaze fell to the water dripping at her feet. “What’s this about?”
“We’re looking for a man by the name of Jack Coffey.” He held up a picture of Jack. “The clerk who checked you and your husband in last night said your husband looked like him.”
She laughed. “Not even close, but you can wait for him to return if you want. Better yet, go see for yourself. He left five minutes ago to grab us some coffee from Starbucks.” She gestured behind them. “Right around the corner.”
The big, bald cop, the one who had done all of the talking so far, didn’t look convinced, but his partner, an older man, drew the other cop back and said, “Go finish up, ma’am, and we’ll talk to you when you’re done.”
“Thanks. I’ll just be a minute.”
Kate tried to shut the door, but the bald cop’s large shoe stopped the door from closing. “I’d like to have a quick look first...then you can finish up.”
His partner gave her a sheepish look, but didn’t stop his pal from entering her room. Kate had no choice but to let them in. Steam drifted out through the open bathroom door.
When the bald man reached the far end of the room he said, “Hey Brad. Come take a look at this.” He pulled a T-shirt from the garbage and held it up. It was Jack’s and it was covered with ash from the explosion. The older cop entered the room. As he passed the bathroom, Jack came out of hiding and wrapped a strong arm around the older cop’s neck and held a gun to his head. Jack gestured to the bald guy who had found the T-shirt. “Put your gun on the floor or your partner’s dead.”
Chapter 9
Michael Ray Harrison, named to the position of Assistant Director in Charge of the Los Angeles Field Office three days ago, stepped into the meeting room and took in the details of his surroundings. Conference Room D was of substantial size and impressive decor. In fact, it was once used on a regular basis, back in the sixties and early seventies, by the director of the FBI, Frank Noland, and his
She and Jack both looked toward the parking lot at the same time. Two police cars were parked outside.
Jack shot to his feet. “Grab your things. We’ve got to go. Now!”
Kate grabbed her bag. She ran to the window and closed the curtain. “It’s too late. Two cops are headed this way.” She didn’t waste any time turning around and shoving most of her things into the top dresser drawer. Jack’s half of the bed looked as if it had never been slept in. Perfect. Gathering the water bottles and the snacks, she threw them into another drawer.
“What are you doing?”
Without answering, she took hold of Jack’s hand and pulled him into the bathroom. She turned the shower on full blast.
“What’s going—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Shhh. They’re coming. Stay quiet. Let me handle this.”
She pulled off her dress and her panties and stepped into the shower, immersing herself under water. A knock sounded on the door. She squeezed excess water from her hair and left the water running. She wrapped a towel around her head and another around her body. She left the door to the bathroom partially open so the cops could see that nobody else was in the room. She unlatched the chain and opened the hotel door a crack. She managed a frown of concern. “Can I help you?”
One of the cops pushed the door a bit wider, poked his head through the opening and looked about. “We’d like to come in and talk to you, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sort of busy.” Her gaze fell to the water dripping at her feet. “What’s this about?”
“We’re looking for a man by the name of Jack Coffey.” He held up a picture of Jack. “The clerk who checked you and your husband in last night said your husband looked like him.”
She laughed. “Not even close, but you can wait for him to return if you want. Better yet, go see for yourself. He left five minutes ago to grab us some coffee from Starbucks.” She gestured behind them. “Right around the corner.”
The big, bald cop, the one who had done all of the talking so far, didn’t look convinced, but his partner, an older man, drew the other cop back and said, “Go finish up, ma’am, and we’ll talk to you when you’re done.”
“Thanks. I’ll just be a minute.”
Kate tried to shut the door, but the bald cop’s large shoe stopped the door from closing. “I’d like to have a quick look first...then you can finish up.”
His partner gave her a sheepish look, but didn’t stop his pal from entering her room. Kate had no choice but to let them in. Steam drifted out through the open bathroom door.
When the bald man reached the far end of the room he said, “Hey Brad. Come take a look at this.” He pulled a T-shirt from the garbage and held it up. It was Jack’s and it was covered with ash from the explosion. The older cop entered the room. As he passed the bathroom, Jack came out of hiding and wrapped a strong arm around the older cop’s neck and held a gun to his head. Jack gestured to the bald guy who had found the T-shirt. “Put your gun on the floor or your partner’s dead.”
Chapter 9
Michael Ray Harrison, named to the position of Assistant Director in Charge of the Los Angeles Field Office three days ago, stepped into the meeting room and took in the details of his surroundings. Conference Room D was of substantial size and impressive decor. In fact, it was once used on a regular basis, back in the sixties and early seventies, by the director of the FBI, Frank Noland, and his
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