Kelley Armstrong - Exit Strategy

“Scream, and I’ll snap your wrist,” I said.

The door opened, and Jack slipped in. A click as he locked it behind him.

He glanced at Cooper, then moved alongside the wall, gun drawn. He took up position out of Cooper’s sight, but where he could cover both us and the door.

“The money’s in my back pocket,” Cooper said through his teeth. “Some product there, too.”

“I wouldn’t touch your ‘product’ or the money from it.” I leaned over him, letting more of my weight fall on his back. “A guy came to you, looking for-”

“Lost of people come to me. Looking for lots of things.”

A small twist on his arm. Just enough for him to let out a hiss.

“That wasn’t a question,” I said. “Pay attention, and we’ll get through this a whole lot faster. This guy goes by the name Baron. Wanted to ‘prove’ himself to you. Offered to do a random hit…”

Cooper audibly swallowed. “I want a lawyer.”

I leaned down to his ear, still staying behind where he couldn’t get a look at me. “Is this how cops usually roust you, Cooper? You have a pocket full of something that would get you in very big trouble…if I was a cop. But that’s complicated. So this is how it works. I’m not a cop. You’re not a drug-dealing death broker. I’m a concerned citizen. You’re a concerned citizen. We’re going to share our concerns about Mr. Baron. He isn’t a client of yours, is he?”

“Shee-it, no. He’s lost it. Right over the fucking edge. I’m staying clear.”

“Good plan. And as a concerned citizen, you want to make sure he isn’t a danger to anyone else, so-without admitting to any association with the man-you’ll tell me how I can get in touch with him.”

A moment of silence passed. I knew Cooper was weighing his options. He could claim he hadn’t taken any contact information from Baron. Or he could provide false information. But after about twenty seconds, he said, “He gave me his number. It’s on my cell phone.”

He directed me to the phone in his pocket. I took it out, then slid it back to Jack. As Jack checked it, I waited, gun to Cooper’s head. He’d know then that I had a partner, but showed no sign of surprise. Cops always had partners, and he thought that’s what I was, no matter what I said to the contrary. It was a fair game-cops pretending to be civilians so they don’t have to follow the rules, which meant he didn’t need to worry about getting busted.

Jack nodded, telling me the number was in there. He punched it into the address book on his prepaid throw-away phone, then erased it from Cooper’s, and slid it back across the floor.

I put it into Cooper’s pocket. Then I took out the bills Jack had given me to pay for the information. I didn’t see the point, but Jack insisted, and it was his money, so paid Cooper would be.

Yet even as I stood, bills held out, I found myself hesitating. I expected Jack to grunt or give me some sign to pay the guy and get on with it. When he didn’t, I looked over and saw him there, expressionless and patient. Waiting.

His gaze met mine. I looked away and let the bills flutter down beside Cooper.

On the drive back to Evelyn’s, Jack stopped at a desolate rest area pay phone to try the number Cooper gave us. I sat in the rental car, sipping bitter coffee and watching him at the booth, hunched against the cold night air, his back to me, breath streaming like smoke signals. I rolled down my window, but was too far to overhear him. A night bird squawked. I turned to gaze at the woods surrounding the rest area and thought of home.

When he came back, he was frowning, gaze distant in that way that I’d learned meant I had to be patient.

We were on the highway before he spoke. “Someone answered. Wasn’t him.”

“Cooper gave us the wrong number?” I shook my head before Jack could answer. “No, I guess that’s not very likely. He’d have no reason to keep a false number and if it was in some kind of code, he’d have said so. He didn’t seem to be holding out. So either Baron gave him the wrong number-which doesn’t make sense-or Baron’s changed it.” I glanced over at Jack, reading his expression. “Or none of the above.”

“Was Baron’s number. Just not him.”

I considered venting my frustration in a comment about Jack’s own code, and the mental gymnastics required to crack it, but he didn’t seem in the mood for jibes. He’d gone quiet again, probably thinking about Baron.

“The person who answered, did he seem to know Baron?”

He blinked, then shook it off, glancing over to give me his full attention. “Hard to say. Guy started spitting questions. Who’s calling? What’s this about? Where’d you get that name?”

“And it definitely wasn’t Baron?”

Jack shook his head.

“Is there any way to trace the number?”

“I’ll put Evelyn on it.”

“What? Jack being cheap? Can’t put you up in a motel for the night?” Evelyn said as she stepped back to let us in.

She had her hand on the collar of a muscular German shepherd. When I hesitated, she waved me in. “They’re trained. If I don’t give the signal, they won’t attack.”

I glanced over at the other one, an even bigger shepherd peering back at me from the other side of the hall. “Any chance I might ‘accidentally’ give the signal?”

“Get inside.” Once I was in, she released the first dog’s collar. “This is Ginger. That’s Scotch. Girls? Say hello.”

I stretched out my hand, fingers extended. They snuffled it.

“Now off to bed,” she said.

They turned and headed up the stairs, one behind the other.

I walked into the living room, then stumbled as a sudden cramp from the long drive took my calf muscles hostage. Jack caught my arm, but I waved him off, hopped over to the sofa and collapsed onto it.

“You want your coffee extra strong?” Evelyn asked. “Or through an intravenous?”

“I got it,” Jack said. “ Dee? You talk.”

“Ah, so you’ve finally realized the advantages of having a partner,” Evelyn said. “If nothing else, it saves you from the supreme effort of speech.”

Jack kept walking. I pulled my leg up and started massaging the muscle.

“If you want something for that, just ask. I’ve got a damned cupboard full of crap. The days when muscle rubs and ointments replace massage oil and lubricants…Never thought I’d see it.” She leaned back in her chair. “So, what happened with Baron?”

I glanced over at Jack, but he kept walking. So I told Evelyn.

“Well, that’s priority one, then. Finding him.” She seemed ready to go on, then glanced toward the kitchen. A pause, then she turned back to me. “I made some progress myself. Leon Kozlov, former associate of the Nikolaev family. A small family, but an old one. One of the first in America.”

“You know them?”

“I know folks associated with them, which is how we’re going to get the story on Mr. Kozlov.”

“He got insurance?” Jack called as he retreated into the kitchen.

I told Evelyn about our theory.

“Well, not really a theory, ” I said as Jack returned with our coffees and sat beside me. “At this point, it’s just one more avenue to explore.”

“A good one. People die, someone always benefits, and usually it’s money. Let me see what I can dig up. First, though, I’ll find Baron. Pathetic fuck.”

One could say those two words with sadness, even empathy. Evelyn did not. Jack’s shoulders tightened and he pushed to his feet as if to hide the reaction.

“I told you this would happen,” she said. “Didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” Jack headed for the computer and turned on the monitor. “Let’s get looking. Find him.”