Jan Burke - Nine

“I guess I can’t help but believe…maybe if he’d had money, Gabe and his friends wouldn’t have been there, and those people would be alive.”

“I didn’t give him money, either. Does that make me guilty, too?”

“No, of course not.”

“Maybe not, but I think about it every day, Kit. Every single day. I ask myself if I could have prevented it from happening. Even though I know he would have spent everything I gave him or you gave him-it would have been gone in no time. Just like his inheritance. You’ve always stood by him, and he’s been nothing but a pain in the ass. But this-it’s so awful, Kit. Worse than anything he’s ever been involved in before. I guess I’ve been ashamed to call you because of it.”

“No, Meghan. Don’t say that. Please. He’s always been in one kind of trouble or another. It’s not your fault. It’s just-just the way he is. He doesn’t like killing. He would have hated that. He just got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Is that really all it takes? I don’t know.”

What could he tell her? That no effort on her part would have made a difference? That her brother would have to save himself? No, she wouldn’t be able to hear that, not now. Besides, he knew that he’d do anything he could to help Gabe, if Gabe ever sought his help again.

Would Gabe contact him? It had been almost a year since he had talked to him.

Now he wondered if he had been too certain of Gabe’s ability to stay concealed. What if someone other than the FBI was looking for Gabe?

He thought of the private jet that had flown to Germany.

“Kit?”

Her voice brought his thoughts back to her. Cautiously, he said, “Meghan, you can always call me. Always. I’m not just Gabe’s friend. I’m your friend, too.”

There was another long silence. He agonized over what he had just said to her. Had he been too eager? Did he say something offensive to her? Would she ever call again?

And then, to his shock, he heard her crying.

“Meghan, please-please don’t cry.”

“God, Kit. I’m sorry. I should have called you a long time ago.”

He was silent, unsure of how to proceed.

He heard her sniff. “Man, can you believe it? Me, crying. In a hotel lobby no less. Where the last thing I want to do is make a scene.”

“Why are you at a hotel?”

She laughed. “Like my brother, I’m a fugitive from the FBI.”

“What?”

“No, not because I’ve broken any laws. But they’re watching the house, probably thinking Gabe will try to contact me, or that I’m hiding him or-God knows. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sure my phone has been tapped. So I took off. I’m in Albuquerque, trying to unwind a little. Not that it’s working-I keep having this sensation of being watched, so I guess I’m still too uptight. I’m using one of those prepaid calling cards from a pay phone. Ridiculously paranoid, right?”

“No, smart. Did you use a credit card to pay for your hotel room?”

“Yes. Oh-I guess they do know where I am now,” she said in dismay.

“Maybe not yet, but they probably will soon. You said Gabe hasn’t contacted you since the robberies?”

“Not a word. To be honest, I almost hope he won’t contact me. No, that’s not true, either. I don’t know what I want anymore. Sometimes I want him to be caught before he does anything else so stupid, so wrong. But when I think of him facing the death penalty, I go crazy. I can’t think of letting that happen to him. I think I’d rather help him get to another country, or-I don’t know. I don’t know.”

He screwed up his courage. “I could come there. I could come and get you, help you get away for a few days. I’m on my way back to L.A. from Denver. I’m taking Spooky to Malibu.”

“I thought you said she usually stays home when you travel, that someone stays at home with her then.”

“Usually her tutor or one of my employees stays with her. But I decided to bring her with me this time.” He hesitated and decided he would tell her the rest when they were face-to-face. “I have some business to take care of inL.A.-I don’t think I’ll be there for long.”

“It would be so good to see you, but I don’t want to put you to even more trouble.”

“No trouble. In fact, I’d be putting you to trouble. You haven’t met Spooky yet.”

“Maybe I could help keep her entertained while you go to meetings or whatever it is you have to do.”

“That would be great,” he said, even as he began to question the wisdom of his plan. This was no time for behaving impulsively. But to see Meghan…to make sure she was safe…

“I’m staying at the Sandia Towers,” she said. “Can you pick me up here tomorrow?”

He could hear his own pulse. He forced himself to think, to calm down. “Just to be on the safe side, let’s meet away from the hotel. It will make life a little more difficult for anyone who is following you. Do you have much luggage?”

“Just a small overnight bag. I can get anything else I need in L.A.”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then tomorrow afternoon at about four, take a cab to the Sandia Tramway and take the tram to the top of the mountain. From the hotel to the peak, it’s probably a trip of about thirty minutes. There’s a restaurant there called the Peak Experience. We’ll meet you there, okay?”

“Great.”

“Bring a warm jacket and wear shoes you can walk in-I won’t be able to park closer than a mile from the restaurant.”

“Okay. And-thanks, Kit.”

“See you soon.”

Spooky came back out just as he ended the call. “Who was that?”

“A friend. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m starving. What friend?”

“Someone you’ll meet soon. Let’s go.”

“A woman?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“Who is she?”

“An old friend.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“We’ve just had this conversation, haven’t we?”

She shrugged and looked away. They walked out to the Suburban in silence. He kept a hand on the phone, still warm from being held during the conversation. His fingertips touched the rabbit’s foot. He thought of how much he liked the sound of Meghan’s voice.

And now he would see her in person for the first time since he graduated from high school.

The rabbit’s foot did not prevent him from being assailed by doubts.

“I wish you were gay,” Spooky said.

Sheriff’s Department Headquarters

Monterey Park, California

Monday, May 19, 5:40 P.M.

Alex watched as Sheriff James Dwyer, a consummate politician, deftly avoided directly answering questions about FBI involvement in the cases, managing to turn every inquiry into an opportunity to talk about the capabilities of his own department. Tall, silver-haired, sharp-eyed, and smooth-spoken, he was in his element, while Alex felt distinctly out of his own.

Before today, the only time Alex had done more than shake hands with Dwyer was at J.D.’s funeral, when Dwyer had offered brief condolences. Alex had never expected more. Over sixteen thousand people worked for the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department, and almost ten thousand of those were sworn officers. Between its detectives and the man at the top, there were several levels of command. Contrary to the image of the lone cowboy with a tin star that the word “sheriff” sometimes evoked, the L.A. County Sheriff was the chief administrator of a law enforcement agency that was the principal police force in forty-one cities, staffed nine county jails, provided security for the courts, and much more. Dwyer didn’t have time to shoot the breeze with one homicide detective.

On Alex’s few previous high-profile cases, J.D. had been the one to go to headquarters with Nelson to brief the sheriff. Dwyer spent a few minutes talking about J.D. today, making an effort to put Alex at ease. Some of that might have been the irrepressible campaigner at work, but Alex had also been struck by how quickly the sheriff absorbed the basic facts of the cases, how many details he had wanted to know.