Jeff Abbott: Trust Me

‘Dad. Are you all right? Aubrey, you okay?’

‘Yes. Fine. We’re fine.’ His voice was hoarse, blood caked on his lips. ‘My God. I can’t believe you did that. The timers, yes?’ Surprise and pride colored his voice and he let out nearly a choking laugh.

‘Luke?’ Aubrey, touching his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. He looked back at her and she was wide-eyed, shaking, rubbing her hands together as if for warmth. ‘I’m glad you came for us,’ she said softly.

Luke roared hard onto the street. Emergency vehicles were making their way down the road, a fire truck, police cars. He shot past them. The Navigator was faster than the van. The driver would have to be rattled. Maybe he’d dumped the bombs in the lot, afraid they’d been set for early explosion as well.

Or maybe the guy had figured he’d caught a lucky break, and if he didn’t blow up when everyone else did, he wasn’t going to. Or he didn’t care; terrorists loved their blazes of supposed glory.

He shot past the first group of responders and ran four red lights, heading up to a hundred miles an hour. It was one in the morning and the streets were empty. He saw tail lights ahead, the only set.

A small moving van.

He’d caught up with the last bomber. He steered with one hand, the one with the broken fingers, fished out the gun with his hand.

‘Dad – here, you’re the better shot.’

‘My hands.’ Warren raised them and for the first time Luke saw them, misshapen. Several fingers had been broken.

What those bastards had done to his father. He shoved down the accelerator, caught up with the moving van. ‘Dad, get in the back.’

His father obeyed, sliding over the seat, Aubrey helping him.

Luke raised his gun, came even with the van.

The bomber leveled a gun, fired. Luke felt the heat of the bullet pass in front of his face, like a bolt, and he steadied his arm and fired. Missed. He fired again at the same time as the bomber; the bomber’s bullet hammered into the Navigator’s roof, two inches from Luke’s head. A black dot of blood appeared above the bomber’s ear, his head jerked, the van careened onto the sidewalk. It crashed into the front of a closed laundromat, sheets of windows shattering. Luke stopped, ran to the van. The bomber lolled, eyes open, dead.

‘Luke. Get back here! We’ll call the bomb squad. They’ll know what to do,’ Warren called.

Luke ran back to the Navigator. His father moved into the front seat, staring at Luke as though he’d never seen him before, as though looking for traces of the lost boy in the man.

‘Dad. Oh, God. You’re okay. You’re alive.’ All the things Luke wanted to say began to bubble up in his chest. ‘Really alive.’

‘I know you have a million questions.’

‘No. Just one. Why?’

‘Okay, I know. But let’s go, before the police arrive. Now.’

Luke obeyed, pulling out onto the road. He set the gun down between him and his father. He didn’t want to touch one, ever again. He turned onto the highway that led back toward downtown Chicago.

Silence filled the space between the three of them. A horrible, uncomfortable quiet. The adrenaline made Luke eager to talk but he didn’t know what to say. Aubrey started to speak – Luke could hear the catch of her breath – and then she stopped.

Luke kept his gaze on the black ribbon of the street. He found his voice and it was calm. ‘So. Dad. Why? Why?’

Warren started to answer ‘I know that there is no…’ then he stopped.

‘I want to forgive you,’ Luke started. ‘I just need to understand why-’ he couldn’t go on, his chest heavy with grief and shock.

His dad said nothing.

Luke glanced at his father and saw the cool barrel of the gun against the back of his father’s head.

‘Where’s the money, Luke?’ Aubrey’s mouth was close to his ear; the tickle of her breath froze him.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

Warren Dantry didn’t move. He glanced over at Luke, eyes wide in surprise.

‘The money. I’d like to know where it is, please.’ Aubrey sounded steady, calm, as she had been during the crisis in Lincoln Park, on the jet to New York, in urging them toward the car back at the store. ‘You and Henry said you had it.’

‘Why do you-’ and then he saw it. The missing piece.

If Jane had arranged for Eric to grab him to ransom Aubrey, then she would have used a kidnapper to grab Aubrey. Just a man, Aubrey had said.

But what if there was no kidnapper? The realization fell into his mind all at once. The burlap hood she said she’d been covered with, even after the kidnapper left. It hadn’t been on the floor or under the bed. His wrists, after being tied to the bed for several hours, were raw. He remembered the smoothness of Aubrey’s skin when he unlocked her shackles.

No one could prove Aubrey had ever actually been kidnapped. Except Aubrey.

She’d faked the kidnapping. Which meant… she was in with Jane.

It was you. You alone, he’d said to Jane. But she hadn’t been alone. She’d had a partner, to keep an eye on the progress of the Night Road. Not a member, but sleeping with a member.

How had Jane ever found out about Eric’s role in the Night Road in the first place?

‘Dad. Did Quicksilver suspect Eric Lindoe of criminal ties?’ He remembered seeing reports about Eric’s bank in his file in the Paris office.

‘There have been a number of questionable accounts at that bank,’ he said quietly. ‘Yes, we’ve been watching the bank for a while. We sent the same agent to watch this Arab prince who seemed interested in financing terrorists.’ He swallowed. ‘I think you know her as-’

‘Jane.’ Luke glanced back. He had to get her to see reason. If he told her where he thought the money was, she’d just kill them both. His tongue felt like concrete.

She said, her voice torn with panic: ‘I want to know where the money is.’

Hidden in plain sight. That little b- Jane had said. ‘Henry lied. He was bluffing.’

‘You know where it is,’ Aubrey insisted. ‘You have to. Tell me.’ Her voice cracked. ‘What I’ve been through, goddamn it, I get the money.’

‘I won’t tell you unless you put the gun down.’

‘Tell me, Luke. Now. Don’t pull over. Keep driving.’

They raced down the highway, Luke dodging in and out among the scattering of cars.

‘You won’t believe me,’ Luke said. His father raised his mauled hands, his eyes wide in pain as Aubrey dug the barrel into the back of his head.

‘You just got your dad back,’ Aubrey said. ‘I’ll take him away. Tell me.’

‘I thought Eric was using you, but you were using him,’ Luke said. ‘An export/import business, lots of overseas money coming in, payments going out. A perfect way for Eric to stream in money, using your accounts. He thought he was using you, to a degree, at first. But you wanted him to use you. You thought he might be involved in money for the Night Road. Did he pillow talk you, tell you what he was up to?’

‘No. Jane and I figured it out on our own. From her spying on the prince for Quicksilver.’

‘Jane worked for us, but Aubrey doesn’t,’ Warren said. The Navigator hit a bump and the gun jiggled against his father’s head.

‘We aimed me straight at Eric,’ she said, her voice calmer. ‘I got into his bed. I got into his head. After I was kidnapped I told him that these Quicksilver people might be willing to help us hide. He bought it.’

Luke watched her in the rearview. ‘You were never kidnapped. It was just a lure to make him act and to keep you clean. And blameless and above suspicion.’

She made a noise in her throat.

‘Aubrey, you don’t have to hurt anyone.’