Sealing Fate Page 13

  Bellows picked up the radio and patched in to the other units involved in the search. “Any sign of our man, Gifford?”

  “None,” a deep male voice answered. “I've done all eight structures three times. Nothing.”

  Bellows let out a long breath. “What is this guy, fucking Houdini?”

  “Could be,” Gifford said. “Neither of the units has seen anything, and I just talked to both.”

  “Have you spoken to Merrick?” Bellows asked.

  “Not a chance. This is your assignment. You get that little pleasure.”

  “Yeah, I know. Just keep looking. I want this guy found.” Bellows slammed down the radio and headed for level six.

  * * *

  Brian pushed the gun under his belt, and he and Jason walked past the guard at the entry to the building. The white-haired, uniformed man sat behind a console of monitors. He looked up from behind a magazine just long enough to lend a nod of recognition to Jason and then went back to the magazine.

  They were silent during the elevator ride to the executive offices. Brian thought about the implications of not killing this man. The decision was one to endanger his own family. He thought about spending the rest of his life in jail for the murder of a woman who had loved him.

  They walked into Jason's office, and he hit the light switch. Jason walked toward the large walnut desk on the far side of the room.

  “No,” Brian said, startling Jason. “Not over there. Stay over here.” He pointed to the couch and chair against the wall near the center of the room.

  Jason walked back and sat on the couch. Brian sat in the adjacent chair facing the door and looked at Jason while he considered what to say.

  Brian drew a deep breath. “There's really no way to ease into this, but someone wants you dead.”

  Jason frowned. “Judging by what happened downstairs, I'd say that's probably you.”

  “No, it's not me. I don't even know you.”

  Jason nodded. “If you say so. But usually strangers aren't out to gun me down.”

  Brian rubbed his eyes before continuing, “I'm being blackmailed. Either I was to kill you or someone kills my family and I go to jail.”

  “So you decided to kill me because someone threatened you?”

  Brian shook his head. “No, I wasn't just threatened. My wife, her sister, and her niece got out of our car just before it exploded. My wife and her sister were torn up, but our niece is still critical. The bomb was in our car to convince me I had to do what I was told.”

  Jason was nodding. “I remember. I saw it on the news.”

  Brian considered him closely. “Then you know who I am?”

  “Yeah, now I do. The way we met downstairs was a little out of context. Your face was familiar, but I couldn't place you.” He furrowed his brow. “Like I said, I saw you on the news. There was some speculation that whoever killed Cathy Jenkins was after you too. No one had any idea why.” He grinned. “I also keep an eye on politics. Your face was on a number of posters before the election.”

  Brian nodded. “Did you know Cathy Jenkins?”

  “Yes. We were in a number of meetings together over the years. I liked her. She knew her stuff.”

  Brian felt a sudden sadness for Cathy and himself. He missed her. “I sent out an investigator to find the blackmailer. He's a close friend of mine and he hasn't come back.” Brian searched Jason's face for acknowledgment. His expression gave away nothing. “It's all because this bastard wants you dead.”

  Jason shook his head and sat forward in his chair. “That's crazy. Who would want to kill me?”

  “That's what I have to find out before this psycho finds out you're still walking around and goes after my family.”

  “No one would want to kill me.” He gave Brian a look that said he was still evaluating. “Until you, no one ever tried.”

  Brian ignored the comment. “Obviously somebody wants you dead enough to implicate me in a murder and go after my family. Someone will go to any lengths to get to you without leaving tracks.”

  Jason regarded him suspiciously, and Brian knew he had to fill in a few gaps.

  “Cathy and I were involved,” he said reluctantly. “We thought no one knew. Someone did.” He watched Jason's face as he absorbed the information, awaiting more. “I was with Cathy the night she died. I left her at one in the morning. I went home and went to bed. When I got up in the morning, her murder was all over the news. My fingerprints were everywhere, so I sat at home waiting for the police to come and get me, still trying to conceal the relationship from my wife.” He paused and drew a breath, involuntarily shaking his head, as if surprised by it all, even now.

  Jason studied him intently but remained quiet, waiting for Brian to continue.

  “I should have been the prime suspect, but the police never came. Instead, I got a phone call from a guy who told me he sanitized the place. All my prints are gone, except the ones on the items he took from the apartment and can deliver to the police at any time. He tells me that unless I cooperate …” Brian's voice trailed off, and he looked down at his hands. He looked back to Jason before continuing, “Then came a series of events to convince me I had no choice, including bombing the car and almost killing my family.”

  Jason was shaking his head. His expression was incredulous. “Not only do I go to jail, my family dies. That's why I'm here tonight,” Brian said, feeling a tear cloud his eye.

  Jason nodded and then loosened his tie as he thought it through. “So are you going to do it? Are you going to kill me?”

  “No. But I'm not going to let you call the police either.”

  Jason nodded.

  “A total stranger set me up to go to jail and will kill my family to get me to kill you. So who wants you dead that bad?” Brian asked again.

  “I really don't know.”

  “Who hates you?” Brian shouted.

  Jason stared at Brian blankly. Brian figured he was assessing whether Brian was a lunatic.

  Then Jason nodded and sucked in air. “In a business sense, a lot of people. I take companies. I fire people. But I don't think any one of them would be out to kill me.”

  “I need a list,” Brian said. “I need to know who hates you the most.”

  Jason nodded and then was silent for a while. Brian let him think. “There's only three that come to mind.”

  “Who?”

  “Jack Eastin is my cousin in Ohio. He's hated me forever.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I married his fiancée two days before they were going to get married. He even threatened me a couple of times over it. But that was twelve years ago, and I haven't heard from him in the last three years.”

  Brian nodded. “Who else?”

  “Mike Hayward. He works for the company. We've been rivals for years. Lately we've been competing for the top job around here. The CEO is about to retire. We both know that the job is going to me, but it's not public yet.”

  “Who's the third?”

  Jason hesitated.

  “Come on. I have to know,” Brian said angrily.

  “Connie Taylor. She and I slept together for a few years. I broke it off five or six months ago.”

  “Anything more to it?” Brian asked.

  “A little. She thought I was going to leave my wife for her. She was angry when I told her that wasn't going to happen.” Jason stood and walked over to his desk.

  Brian watched him nervously, still holding the gun tightly, but said nothing. Jason pulled an address book from his desk and flipped through the pages. Then he began scribbling on a notepad. He walked back to Brian and handed him the paper.

  “These are the names and phone numbers.” Jason sat back down across from Brian. “I don't know if anything here will help you. I've got no fans on this list, but I don't think any of them would kill me.”

  Brian nodded and stood. “Are you going to have me picked up?”

  Jason stood once more and looked at Brian squarely. “No, I believe wh
at you've told me. Besides, you've got enough to worry about.” He extended a hand to Brian. Brian studied him. Then they shook hands.

  “Listen, whatever you find out from those on my hate list, don't publish it, all right? I'd like to keep my biggest fuck-ups as confidential as I can.”

  Brian nodded, smiling his understanding. Then he turned to go.

  “One more thing,” Jason said. “If I can help you with anything, call me.”

  Brian nodded. “Thanks. We both may need all the help we can get.”

  Chapter 20

  Brian pulled into the driveway and climbed out of the car. As he walked to the front door, he scoured the neighborhood. It had become habit to search for the unseen eyes that constantly watched him. Three houses away, two teenage girls were washing an old Mustang in the driveway. They giggled as one turned the hose on the other. There was nothing out of the ordinary in any direction.

  Brian walked into the house. “Barbara,” he yelled out, walking into the living room.

  There was no answer. He walked into the kitchen and found a note on the counter. The note said Barbara had gone to Janet's and that Brian should call and she would come right home.

  Brian walked into the living room and picked up the phone. He started to dial Janet's number and then paused. He extracted Jason's hate list from his pocket and regarded the names. He would start with the one who seemed most likely, Connie Taylor.

  Hell hath no fury, he thought to himself as he dialed the number.

  A woman's voice answered on the third ring. “Hello.”

  “Connie Taylor, please.”

  “Speaking.”

  “Ms. Taylor, this is Investigator Timmons with the LAPD. I have a couple questions for you.”

  Nervousness was in her voice as she asked, “About what?”

  “Jason Ross.”

  There was a slight pause. “What about him?”

  “Someone tried to kill Mr. Ross tonight. I wonder what you might be able to tell me about that?” Brian wished there was a way to talk to her in person to watch her face and her demeanor.

  That was the way the cops would really do it, but he didn't have official ID that would pass. He figured that he had better settle for the phone call and hope she bought it.

  “Really?” she asked. The surprise sounded genuine.

  “What can you tell me, Ms. Taylor?”

  There was a brief silence. Then she said, “I don't have anything to say about Mr. Ross.”

  “Well, ma'am, you can tell me now, or I can send a car to bring you to the station, and you can tell me in person,” Brian said in a tone he hoped sounded forceful.

  “I can't tell you anything about tonight. I haven't seen Jason in two or three months, although I wouldn't lose a lot of sleep if someone did kill that son of a bitch.”

  Brian took a deep breath and then asked, “Where were you tonight, Ms. Taylor?”

  “Fortunately, I was home with my boyfriend and my parents, who are here from Portland.”

  “You were there all evening?”

  “All evening,” she said without hesitation.

  “Thanks, Ms. Taylor. We'll get back to you if we need to talk further.” Brian slowly put down the phone.

  He looked at the other two names on the list and then decided to call Barbara first to tell her that he didn't go through with it and to have her come home and be with him. He knew she would be relieved. As Brian reached for the phone, it rang.

  He was startled but picked it up before the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Brian,” said the voice that haunted him, “you didn't do it, did you? I'm disappointed. And I'm going to have to show you that the time for talking is over.”

  Brian felt a sense of panic. “Look, I tried. I just couldn't do it,” he said quickly.

  “By tomorrow you'll wish that you had. The murder weapon is on its way, and you're no longer a free man.” The line went dead.

  Brian dialed Janet's house and told Barbara that he hadn't killed Jason. Then he told her about the call. She said she would be right home.

  It was another night of fitful sleep. At three in the morning, Brian drifted off into one more nightmare. He was driving down the street. He looked over to see Cathy in the passenger seat smiling at him. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He looked briefly at the road ahead and then turned back to see her smile. She was gone. Barbara was in the seat, looking straight ahead with a tear rolling down her face. She looked at Brian for just a second and then opened the door and leaped from the speeding car.

  Brian leaped up in bed with a start. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and immediately thought of the murder weapon, whatever it was, on the way to the police. He would have only a few hours left as a free man. He thought about the bomb in the car. He thought about Bob, fearing the worst. His head felt like it had been split open with a hammer, and he knew there would be no more sleep.

  Brian walked to the kitchen and stood in front of the window, watching the sun come up. It was a little before seven. He had been thinking about how to avoid arrest today when the police linked the murder weapon to him, as they inevitably would. He told himself it might not happen. But he knew better. The psychotic bastard who had been calling him was no bluffer. He had proven that already.

  Brian thought about running, about packing a suitcase and heading somewhere else, anywhere else. No car, no credit cards, and no home. A new identity, odd jobs, and different names. Images of Richard Kimble came to mind. And what about Barbara? Could I just leave her while I searched for his nameless, faceless version of the one-armed man? He knew he couldn't do it. His only chance was the long shot. He had to identify the voice on the phone and then prove he was the killer … and all in the next few hours. Brian wouldn't let himself give up, though he knew he might as well be trying to jump the Grand Canyon on a pogo stick.

  He pulled the wrinkled list from his pocket and dialed back east. It was a decent hour in the morning there.

  “Hello?” said the voice of an elderly woman.

  “May I speak to Jack Eastin, please?” Brian said in a weak voice.

  The woman was quiet for too long. Then she began to cry. “I'm so sorry. I have to start learning to deal with this.” As she breathed heavily, she said, “Jack died in a plane crash two weeks ago. Were you a friend of his?”

  Brian didn't know what to say. “Yes, we went to college together,” he finally managed. “It had been a long time, so I figured I'd call and say hi.”

  “I know he would have liked that. I'm Edith, Jack's mother. What's your name?”

  Brian made up a name. The woman said she thought Jack might have mentioned him before. She was a sweet woman, and by the end of the call, Brian had promised to stay in touch and taken down the address to send a donation in Jack's name. Brian hung up the phone, feeling sadness for the loss of a friend he had never known.

  It was seven forty-five when Brian called Michael Hayward's office.

  “Hello, Michael Hayward's office,” a friendly female voice said.

  The voice was familiar to Brian, but he couldn't place it. “Michael Hayward, please.”

  “I'm sorry, he's traveling today and won't be back in town until this evening. Can I take a message for him?”

  Something clicked in Brian's mind. It was her, the woman who had called him right after he had hung with the killer. She had asked him about the threatening call and then hung up. Brian was almost sure, but he wanted to hear her say more. He had to keep her talking.

  “Do you expect he'll be in later today?”

  “I'm not sure. If he does make it in, it won't be until late afternoon or evening. Whom should I say called?”

  “I'm a friend of his. I'll call back later.”

  Brian hung up and then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He took a few moments to digest this new information and then to plan. He dialed Jason Ross' number.

  “Jason Ross' office.” This woman's voice was all business.

&n
bsp; “This is Brian Madsen. May I speak with Mr. Ross, please?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Madsen. He's in a meeting right now. Can I have him call you back later?”

  “No. Tell him I'm on the line and that it's an emergency. He'll want to take the call.”

  This time there was irritation in the voice as she said, “Just a moment, sir.”

  Within thirty seconds, Jason was on the line. “I didn't think I'd hear from you so quickly.”

  “I didn't think you would either. I need to know what kind of car Michael Hayward drives. Do you know?”

  “Yeah, I've seen it once or twice. It's a late-model Jaguar, one of the bigger ones.”

  “What color?”

  “It's a burgundy color.”

  “Where does he park it?” Brian asked excitedly.

  “He parks on the same level I do, usually several rows to the west.” He paused. “You're not going to come take potshots at him in the garage, are you?”

  “No more of that. I just need to be able to tell if he's around.”

  “Okay,” Jason said reluctantly.

  “I only have one more question,” Brian said. “How do I get to Hayward's office? I mean, once I'm in the building?”

  Jason gave him directions from the elevator and then paused. “One more thing,” he said. “Have you learned about the people on that list I gave you?”

  “Yes, I did. At first opportunity I'll share it with you. Right now, I've got to go.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I need it,” Brian said and hung up hurriedly.

  Brian went to two electronics store before he found what he needed. Brian looked the unit over one more time and then nodded to himself. It was easy to control, and it was small enough to hide. At four o'clock, he arrived home to find the house empty. He felt a sense of disappointment that he wouldn't see Barbara before he left. Brian told himself it was for the best. He didn't want to tell her of his plan until he knew for sure.