John Sandford - Mortal Prey

"What?"

"Yeah. That'll alibi you. You tell them I showed up and insisted on staying, and you got scared and ran for it, and decided to turn yourself in. You could use that in a trial, good faith and all that. Do you know an attorney?"

Pollock nodded. "I got a name from the Memphis magazine-she's a criminal attorney and she's a big feminist deal down there. She's got a reputation for defending women who were beat up, and did something about it."

"Is she good?"

"The magazine says she is. She was like a winner in their mover-and-shaker issue."

"Okay, then. This could work. This could work. But you've got to think about it harder. I've got money, we could get you out of here. Seattle, or somewhere really out of it."

"Nah…" Pollock looked around. "I hate this place. Everything's gray, nothing's mine. I never felt like I could hang a picture, because Old Lady McCombs would get pissed about me hammering a nail in the wall. If I go somewhere else, it'd be the same thing all over again."

Rinker looked at her for a long moment and then said, "Let's think about it."

"You think…?"

"I think it's reasonable," Rinker said. "Tell me about this attorney."

They talked the rest of the afternoon, and then Pollock went out and brought groceries and a bottle of wine, and they had fish and white wine and a nice spinach salad. Halfway through, Pollock started to sob, and Rinker said, "You're gonna be scared for a while."

"Ah, jeez."

"And it's a risk. The papers say first-degree murder."

"It's no risk. I'm dying right here, one inch at a time."

"Then let's run with it." Clara grinned at her, the first smile since she heard about Gene. "But not until tomorrow. I got a couple of things to do tonight. You could call the lawyer tomorrow morning and head down to Memphis in your car."

"I'd like to talk to Mama first."

"I shouldn't go out until after dark-things'll be safer on the street then," Rinker said. "We can make the call from the gas station."

They went out after dark, both wearing skirts and dark blouses, hoping to look like old women. They went downtown first, to the Heartland National Plaza. Rinker found a Federal Express station and took an envelope. She called a cab from a pay phone, then put the booby-trapped cell phone in the envelope with a note she'd written that afternoon, and walked out to the sidewalk and waited.

The cab showed in five minutes, and she gave the driver the envelope and twenty dollars, and took his card. As soon as the cab was out of sight, she waved Pollock over, and they wandered farther west, found a gas station with an outside phone, and Pollock called her mother and told her what she was planning.

Rinker watched the rearview mirror for fast-moving cars, and after two minutes, gave Pollock the hang up sign. Pollock talked for another thirty seconds, then hung up, and they pulled out.

"Davenport," Pollock said.

"What?"

"Davenport was at my folks' home. Mama put a bug in his ear, sounds like." She smiled, and suddenly looked almost happy, Rinker thought. "She remembered his name because she always called a couch a couch, and Dad always called it a davenport."

"Really," Rinker said.

"So we're going back to my place? I oughta pack a few things and maybe put some stuff in a box and send to Mama tomorrow. I could go to the post office before I leave for Memphis."

"I could mail it for you… Tell you what-let's get out of town someplace, someplace over in Illinois, and get us an ice cream. One big last calorie blast before you take off."

Pollock started crying again, and Rinker let her go. A minute later, Pollock wiped her nose on the shoulder of her blouse and said, "That's sounds really good, Clara."

"Lucas was at the hotel, reading an Esquire about fall fashion, and what anyone not a savage would be wearing in October, when Mallard called: "Showtime," he said.

"She's coming in?"

"No. She sent Levy a cell phone in a cab, in a FedEx envelope. He didn't know what it was. He thought it was from his office, so he opened it, and there was a cell phone and a note. She says she wants to talk about money, and about some other things. Said she was afraid to call him at his office and his home phone was unlisted, and that the feds are probably watching him. She said not to tell anybody about the phone. He might not have, if he'd had a choice."

"Does the note say when she's gonna call?"

"Yeah. She said she'd call at ten-twenty minutes from now. The guys already tried out the cell phone, and it's the one she's been using to call you, so she'll either be calling from a new cell phone, or she'll be calling from the ground. We're ready to go either way. We've got choppers to look for the cell phone, and we've got guys all the way along the major interstates-we should be able to get to any ground station in two minutes. We're all over Soulard. So you've got a choice. You've got enough time to get to Levy's, barely, or you could head down to Soulard."

"Okay. Ah… are we gonna be able to set it up so we can all hear what she's got to say?"

"We're trying, but I don't think there's time. We can tap it, but we won't be able to hear it live. Listen, I gotta get going."

"Wait, wait, one second. How many guys are down in Soulard?"

"Five teams."

"Too many already. I'll see you at Levy's."

Lucas parked a block from Levy's at eight minutes to ten, and hurried along. As he passed through the wrought-iron fence at the blocked end of the street, he looked to his left, into the dark, and said aloud, "Davenport."

"Go."

He went to Levy's front door, knocked, and another agent let him in. Mallard was in the library with Levy, Malone, two more agents, including Sally with the epaulets, and a technician.

"Three minutes," Mallard said. He was excited, rolling.

"Are we looking around the neighborhood? This could be an excuse to pull you or Malone into range."

"We got guys with night-vision glasses all up and down the streets, for two blocks around. We're covered."

"Two minutes," the tech said. He had a Sony tape recorder, and it ran to a pickup fastened to the cell phone. Levy sat staring at it, as though willing it to ring. To Malone, Levy said, "So I answer her questions and then I ask her about John, if she's seen him. And ask if she knows what he's done with his security. I say I was out at his place and he's got some guys outside with night-vision glasses…"

"Just like the ones you saw here-describe them, like you were impressed," Malone prompted.

"Yeah, I say that-"

"You gotta keep coming back to the idea that you didn't know what was happening in Mexico, and you didn't know about her brother. Ask about her other brother, Roy. That'll keep her going. We need two minutes, minimum, and every second after that increases the chances of getting her."

"Ah, Lord," Levy said. "What'd I do to deserve this?"

"Joined the fuckin' Mafia," Lucas said.

"Does this guy have to be here?" Levy asked, looking at Lucas but talking to Mallard.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Then maybe you oughta tell him that I got nothing to do with any Mafia, for Christ's sake. That's like some kind of fairy tale. What do you know from Mafia up in Minneapolis? What, you got one Italian guy in the whole freezin' fuckin' place?"

"Keep talking, I'll pull your fuckin' nose for you," Lucas said, and smiled.

"Shut up, everybody," Mallard said. "We got one minute."

Three minutes later, they were still waiting.

"Gotta make one call, then we better get back," Rinker told Pollock.

"Okay." They'd gotten cherry cones at a Breyer's store in a strip shopping center.

Rinker went to the pay phones, dialed the number of her old cell phone, and got a "Please deposit one dollar" recording. She dropped four quarters and the phone rang at the other end.