The Saint (Carter Ash Book 1) Page 6

  With an air of long-suffering patience, Kate sighed. “No, but you learn a lot growing up around medicine. Dad taught me enough to know that needs to be examined and cleaned out. If I had the right tools, I could probably pull the bullet out.” She sounded less certain about this, which I took as an extremely good sign. Teenagers weren’t known for a sterling understanding of their own limits. If Kate was questioning the danger in yanking the slug out of my forearm, she’d probably be careful about nicking anything important.

  I raised my arm. “If you think you can do it, there’s a kit in the pantry next to the fridge.”

  Kate did good work. She didn’t shy away or hesitate the way other kids her age might. She focused intently on my injury and worked calmly, carefully. She even made saline to irrigate with.

  “Don’t you people have doctors on your payroll for this kind of thing?” she asked as she probed the wound with a long pair of forceps.

  I smiled. “You watch a lot of TV, don’t you?”

  A faint blush colored her cheeks. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true, does it?”

  “No,” I said. “You’re right. Just giving you a hard time. We have a few doctors we work with. We paid one of them to start his own outpatient surgical clinic. We’re invested in it, so we make money and get off-the-books treatment.”

  Kate stared at me, incredulous. “Why are you letting me do this, then? I’ll drive you there!”

  “Two reasons,” I said patiently, trying to ignore the flare of pain in my arm. “One is that once Russey finds out what happened, anyone who helps me is going to pay for it. Even if they had no idea what happened. I don’t want to bring that down on anyone else if I can help it.”

  The look on her face was something like respect. “You’re also afraid he already knows and will have someone watching the place, right?”

  I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s what I would do. And Russey taught me a lot. I’m better at his job than he ever was, but he’s a very smart man. He knows what bases to cover.”

  “So you want me to keep at it?” Kate asked.

  I nodded. “When you’re done, we’ll get out of here. Once I have you tucked away, I’ll feel—son of a bitch!”

  Kate winced as yelled, but her hands didn’t waver. “I’m doing this without anesthetic. Put your big boy pants on.”

  I grumbled something better left unspoken in front of children and pulled my laptop over with my free hand. I slid an earbud in and booted up, searching for news about the fire.

  There wasn’t much. The authorities were still investigating and wouldn’t release any details to the public. They did confirm the presence of three bodies. The news reports made me sure of a few things.

  One, Russey knew his son was dead. There was simply no way he wouldn’t know where the party was being held. Combine that with the lack of communication with Robby and Javier, and the facts would have fallen into place quickly. My own phone was sitting with its battery removed, so the boss might assume for a little while longer that I was one of the bodies.

  Two, the authorities definitely knew these were murders. The evidence would be obvious. As head of security, I’d be high on the list of people the cops would want to ask questions. Luckily I had a healthy paranoia and a need to stay under the radar since Russey would soon try to hunt me down, which meant the investigation would hobble Russey’s efforts. It wouldn’t stop him or my people from coming after me, but I’d have room to breathe. Javier was, after all, also a paid employee in the company. His death would at least require the cops to speak with Russey, and there would be questions.

  Three, my window of relative freedom was closing fast. In the movies there is always some clever way to figure out where a fugitive is hiding. In truth, it’s usually like looking for a needle in a haystack. If it were just me, I’d raid every cache I had hidden around the city and county and motor away, never to return.

  But I couldn’t risk the wrath of a grieving parent with a personal army falling on Kate. It was as bedrock a part of me as breathing. I could no sooner ignore a drowning child.

  With my phone powerless, Amanda would have no way of tracking it. I knew she’d figure out the location of my apartment eventually, but we’d be gone long before then.

  A sense of terrible purpose began to fill my head and heart as Kate fished the bullet—still intact—out of the meat of my left arm. By the time she had bound the wound and taped the gauze in place, I was mentally back in a place I thought I’d left far behind.

  9

  An hour later I enjoyed the look on Kate’s face as I tossed a small gym bag into her lap, all wide-eyed shock.

  “This thing is heavy,” she said, adjusting herself in the seat of the car to handle the weight. “How much is in here?”

  “About twenty grand,” I said. “All in twenties. There’s also a pair of pistols and about four hundred rounds. A few other things I might need.”

  She frowned. “We have a trunk full of guns. So many guns. Why do you need two more?”

  I shrugged. “They were already in the bag, kid. I didn’t want to leave them sitting there where any idiot could find them.”

  We left the cache behind and took off for our second-to-last stop. This was the biggest of them, though the others put together were worth a lot more. The abandoned house whose rear step I’d hidden the bag under was in a similarly desolate neighborhood, one I was glad to leave behind. Louisville had weathered the rise and fall of the economy pretty well, but these pockets of overgrown lawns and buildings falling to ruin still bothered me. They were reminders that my adopted home wasn’t as lovely and healthy as I liked to pretend.

  Some human beings aren’t meant to be alone, yet every day of my life over the last eight years was an exercise in building walls to keep other people out. I wasn’t truly close to anyone. The genesis of it was obvious; the loss I’d endured wasn’t one I could cope with a second time. Hell, I had never really coped with it to begin with.

  Instead I’d fallen in love with a place. This place.

  “I’m going to miss it,” I said.

  Kate glanced at me sideways. “What? Louisville?”

  “You say that the way a kid who has lived here her entire life should say it,” I told her. “One day you’ll go away to college or to see the world or whatever, and you’ll miss it too.”

  I wondered if the possibility that she’d die and never get a chance to visit her favorite coffee shop or movie theater or beautiful vista again entered her head at that moment. I didn’t ask, not wanting to turn the mood darker than it had to be.

  We stopped at our local superstore. I was planning to ditch the car after I got Kate to the safe house, but the place wasn’t stocked up.

  I peeled a stack of twenties from a bundle in the bag and jerked my head to the door. “Let’s be quick. I don’t want to show our faces any longer than necessary.”

  Kate didn’t need me to prod her along on that front. I actually had to increase my pace to keep up with her as she wove through the store. She grabbed a few sets of clothes, nondescript and functional. Toiletries took all of two minutes as she snatched one item after another with the efficiency of a predator. Food took a little longer, but all told the trip was less than twenty minutes.

  We were putting the last bag in the back seat when bad luck rolled up in a familiar BMW.

  “Shit,” I said, instinctively feeling for my gun.

  “What is it?” Kate said, freezing halfway into the car.

  “Get inside,” I said roughly. I tossed the keys into the driver’s seat. “Get behind the wheel, put your hand on one of the guns in that bag but don’t pull it out. Be ready to get out of here if I start shooting.”

  Kate’s eyes went round with fear. “What—”

  “Do it,” I said, then shut my door.

  The BMW was in the next lane of parking spaces and when it stopped, I expected to see Amanda Bealer. It was her car, ostentatious and recognizable. Instead the door opened and one of her u
nderlings stepped out, phone held up to his ear in a shaky hand. His face was chalk white, stark terror written in every tense line of it.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I understand.”

  He walked over to me and extended the hand with the phone in it. I took it, my gaze never leaving him. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the car, but I kept it in my peripheral vision just in case a nasty surprise was crouched in the back seat.

  “Hello, Amanda,” I said into the phone.

  “Carter, what the fuck is going on?” she said without preamble. There was a ragged note of panic in her voice. “Robbie’s dead. Javi and Jeremy, too. We thought you’d been killed with them since it looked like your phone was dead.”

  “How’d you find me?” I asked. “You must not have thought I was very dead, if you located me this fast.”

  There was a long pause. “I don’t think I can tell you that, Carter.”

  And that was when I knew the small grace period I’d given myself had expired. “It doesn’t really matter, I guess. You have a chance to stay out of this, Amanda. Spread the word. I’m only making the offer once. Tell Russey I’ll call him from my phone in a few hours. The next person who shows up isn’t going to walk away.”

  I didn’t wait for her answer. I ended the call and dropped the phone, stomping on it one time before grinding it into the pavement.

  I looked at Amanda’s assistant, whose name I thought was Kevin and met his terrified gaze with my cold one. “It’s in the bag, isn’t it?” I asked him.

  Kevin nodded, not hesitating. “She’s been keeping tabs on you for months. Russey’s orders.”

  “Okay,” I said, gesturing at the car. “Go. I suggest you take the advice I gave Amanda. This is your free pass.”

  Kevin moved so fast he almost broke the laws of physics.

  I got in the car. “Go. Head for Indiana. We’re in more trouble than I thought.”

  The tracker was in the bag I’d hidden, just as Kevin said. I threw it out the window. “Turn around at the next exit. We need to take some detours.”

  “What was that?” Kate asked. “How did they find us?”

  I chewed the inside of my lip. “My boss was a lot more suspicious of me than I thought,” I explained. “I hid that bag six months ago and only checked on it twice. They’ve been watching me. Not all the time, and not perfectly, or they’d have found my apartment. Probably one of the times I stepped out during business hours.”

  Confusion etched Kate’s face. “Why? Were you planning something? Like a takeover or something?”

  I chuckled. “No. But I’m sure Russey was worried I would. I was already in charge, basically. Doesn’t matter why. It means we can’t rely on the safe house.” My mind spun, trying to find some solid foundation to work from. “Shit! I was so careful.”

  Kate kept her eyes forward, carefully watching the road. “So we stop, get something to eat, and figure out the next move.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’ll want to switch cars. And…” I glanced at the side mirror. Kate had already pulled our turnaround, yet I was certain a vehicle seven or eight lengths behind us had been on the other side of the road. “We’re being followed.”

  I pushed down the urge to berate myself for letting my surprise at the level of Russey’s distrust override my instincts. I should have realized the obvious; Kevin was a distraction while others got into position to tail me.

  Because Russey didn’t want me dead. Not yet, and certainly not quickly.

  “Kate,” I said, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to calm. “Things are about to take a turn. I need you to stay calm and do what I tell you, okay?”

  She nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I ask, pumpkin.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I knew it. It was something I always said to Hannah any time she told me she’d try and do her best. It was an unexpected reflex, and that very unexpectedness let the memory it spurred ricochet through my head.

  Kate didn’t look at me, but I saw the worry in her eyes. “I’m not her,” she said. “You know that, right?”

  “I know you aren’t,” I assured her. “Listen, we have two options here. Either we lose them, or we stop them. You’re not trained to lose a tail, and they aren’t likely to be subtle about following us. We can try it, but it’s broad daylight. I’m a little worried about forcing a confrontation, though. I don’t want to put you near the crossfire.”

  Now she did glance over at me. “Yeah, I super don’t want you to do that, either.”

  I watched the cars behind us as casually as possible. I was almost positive there was only one following, though I’d have bet every dollar in the gym bag that another trailed much farther back, out of sight and in constant contact with the lead vehicle. It was what I’d trained my people to do.

  “There will be at least two cars,” I said. “Here’s what I want you to do.”

  The explanation only took thirty seconds and relied on Kate continuing to show the sort of steady nerves she’d displayed already. We picked up speed and approached another turnoff, this one leading to a massive, popular truck stop just off the highway.

  I watched the car following us take the exit after we did. The next minute happened incredibly fast.

  Kate hit the truck stop parking lot in a spray of gravel, only slowing down after slipping between two cars and narrowly avoiding being hit. She slewed around the main building and decelerated rapidly without fully stopping.

  I got out and slammed the door, slapping a hand on the side of my car and saw it take off like a startled horse. I rushed into the rear entrance and made it inside just in time to see our pursuers enter the parking lot.

  I ran through the front door just as Kate came around the building, giving the bad guys—well, worse guys—a view of both of us. Kate goosed the engine and took off down the county road leading away from the truck stop.

  There were a few options for them. Two targets meant they’d have to pick one. The obvious choice, the one they made, was to turn around and follow my car. After all, I wasn’t going anywhere without a vehicle, was I? The chase car, undoubtedly getting an update about now, could swoop in and get me. This way presented minimal risk of Kate getting away.

  The whole thing relied on a lot of assumptions, one of which was that Kate and I were trying to go our separate ways to minimize the chance we’d both be taken. Another was the idea that the person driving my car had the instinct for self-preservation of an adult.

  I doubted the members of my crew following us reckoned on the weird sense of immortality all teenagers have until they get out into the real world. Among other instructions, I told her to drive like a bat out of hell. She didn’t need to lose them for long—just long enough.

  At a guess, I had three or four minutes until the chase car showed up. That wasn’t a lot of time, but I had no intention of making it easy for anyone. With a loose plan in mind, I made my way toward the attached diner and found what I was looking for at once.

  The busboy stopped his cart when I put an open hand on his elbow. He gave me the plastic smile of someone who has to deal with asshole customers all day and relies on their generosity to pay the bills.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  I smiled, mine entirely genuine. “Actually, I might be able to help you.”

  10

  I walked out of the front door of the truck stop a shade over three minutes later with a new set of keys in my pocket and a plastic bag dangling from one hand. I made no effort to disguise myself. My stubbly head and suit were instantly recognizable by everyone in the Russey organization. Trying would have defeated the purpose since I wanted them to see me.

  Thirty seconds later, the trail car did just that.

  It slid into the vast parking lot with the easy grace of an attacking shark. There was only a slight hesitation in its movement as the driver scanned for me, though I doubt he expected to actually see me standing th
ere. When the black sedan surged ahead, I knew I’d been spotted.

  There were a few possibilities, but the most likely was that the team would try to take me alive and would want to avoid any shooting. Again, I had trained them that way, and my understanding of how they would instinctively operate was my only real advantage.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I ducked around a woman exiting the convenience store section of the truck stop. I was going in the opposite direction of my escape route, trying to draw the enemy away from it.

  Once I was around the corner, my hand dropped into the plastic bag to pull out one of my purchases, something I’d put together in a frantic sixty seconds inside a bathroom stall.

  The thing about truck stops is that you can buy a ridiculous variety of items in them. Truckers travel most of the time, creating a market for these micro department stores. I’d bought a giant container of hand sanitizer, which came with a smaller version in a bottle with a dispenser head. I added a pair of cheap cotton work gloves and a box cutter. The gloves were soaked with the gel from the smaller bottle and stuffed into the opening of the larger, which I had scored deeply with the box cutter.

  The last item was a cheap little lighter.

  I had my back to the curb when the car followed me around the corner and slid to a stop on the worn blacktop. The doors opened with soft, muffled clicks and I whipped around to chuck my now-flaming bottle of makeshift napalm through the open door.

  Terrified shouts followed the incongruously gentle whump of flames rushing to life amid the sound of cracking plastic. Only one man had managed to exit the car fully, and even he jumped to the side as the blue flames winked into existence all over the interior of the Crown Victoria.

  His surprise was so complete that he didn’t even notice me rush him. I closed the two steps between us in a fraction of a second, kicked his knee in sideways, and shoved him into the open door. Oh, I watched for another half a second to make sure the others were thoroughly occupied before I ran, but no more than that. Timing was everything in an escape.