TWENTY-NINE
• • •
Several hours after Jed’s meeting with Murphy, he and Karen were led by four armed men to the ground level of the prison. Murphy was nowhere in sight; neither was Lilly. The main cell area was empty, vacated hours ago with the last tour of the day. The windows were dark, and only the scattered security bulbs lit the interior of the building, giving the aging prison an eerily vacant feel. Karen took Jed’s hand and squeezed it.
“It’ll be okay,” he said.
“Where’s Lilly?”
“I don’t know. Did you see her?”
Karen nodded. “She seemed scared.”
“Murphy told me she’d be coming with us.”
“He told me she’d be with him and they’d meet us there.”
Of course Murphy would want to keep her separate from Jed and Karen. She’d be easier to use as leverage that way.
Outside, the sky was dark and moonless. Stars peeked through a partial cloud cover. Not even a trace of daylight remained. Jed had no way of knowing the time but assumed it was late night because though a cool breeze swept in from the bay, the night still held the memory of heat from the day.
“Did he tell you where we’re going?” Jed said.
“No. You?”
“Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t give me any details. All I know is Connelly will be there.”
The two were led down the walkway that wound back to the dock, but before they got to sea level, the path diverged and took them to the parade grounds and a heliport, where a gray-and-white Airbus H145 waited.
The engines started on the helicopter and the large rotors began to turn. Faster and faster the blades moved until they beat at the air with a steady thrum.
Jed and Karen were instructed to keep their heads low as they were escorted across the parade grounds to the chopper. The four armed men escorted them into the helicopter, where they sat on leather-upholstered seats, two men behind them and two men across the cabin from them. The side door of the chopper closed and moments later they were airborne.
The flight across the bay took but a few minutes. The water below was black and shapeless, a gaping bottomless void opening to swallow them. Behind them and to the south, San Francisco glowed and shimmered like red-hot embers.
When they’d reached the mainland to the north, the helicopter followed the path of US 101 as it wound through the cities of San Rafael and Novato and then into the vacant quarters of Olompali State Park and the Petaluma Marsh Wildlife Area. Beyond the marsh, the city of Petaluma sat low and sprawling. Traffic moved lazily along its gridded streets.
On the other side of Petaluma, the chopper landed at the Petaluma Municipal Airport. The side door opened and Jed and Karen were instructed to exit.
Once they were clear of the chopper, the aircraft lifted off the ground and seconds later all but disappeared into the night sky, heading east.
Jed turned to one of their armed escorts. “Where to now?”
The man motioned to a twin-engine jet waiting quietly near the runway. Jed reached for Karen’s hand, glanced at her, and nodded.
At the jet the men stopped them. “Wait here,” the lead said. He was tall, thin but muscular, square jaw, narrow eyes. It was the first time he’d spoken since they left Alcatraz. He ascended the steps to the cabin, opened the door, and went inside, closing the door behind him.
“You okay?” Jed asked Karen.
She shifted her eyes to the men standing nearby, then back to Jed. “I’m fine. We’re doing the right thing, Jedidiah.”
“What are we doing?”
“From Connelly.”
“Yes. Connelly.”
“Do you know what’s going to happen in Kill Devil Hills?”
Karen moved her attention to the plane, then glanced at the armed escorts again. “No. But I have a feeling that you will do something that will prevent the world from being turned upside down.”
“I feel like it’s already upside down.”
The lead escort finally emerged from the cabin of the plane. “Let’s go.”
Jed climbed the airstairs first, followed by a guard, then Karen, then the other two men. At the top, the lead opened the cabin door and stepped aside so Jed could enter. The interior of the cabin was tight but elegantly designed. A single row of cream leather seats lined each side of the cabin, facing each other in pairs, each pair with a mahogany table between them.
A man stood and approached Jed. “Good evening, Mr. Patrick. I’m Ed Skinner. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll fill you in on the details of your mission once we get in the air.”
“Where’s Murphy and my daughter?”
“They’ve already left in another plane.” He looked at his watch. “They should be arriving at their destination in about an hour. I assure you, your daughter is fine. I saw her right before they departed. Sweet kid.” He gave Jed a tight-lipped grin. “She’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
Skinner returned to his seat and motioned for Jed to sit. “Please, have a seat. We’re about to take off.”
Ed Worley lived in a third-floor apartment located on K Street just a mile walk from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. It took Tiffany no more than twenty minutes to walk there.
He opened the door after the first knock, confusion widening his eyes and parting his lips. “Hey.” He looked past Tiffany as if expecting her to have been accompanied by someone else.
Tiffany glanced both ways in the hallway, then said, “Can I come in?”
Ed’s cheeks flushed. He leaned his head out of the doorway and also looked up and down the hall. “Sure. Yeah. Of course.” He stepped aside. “Come in, please.”
Tiffany entered the apartment, which was nicely furnished in a retro modern style with clean lines and bright colors. The place was neat and uncluttered, not what she expected in the home of a bachelor.
“Nice place,” she said.
The redness in Ed’s cheeks deepened. He looked at the floor —“Thanks” —then around the living room area. “I have a thing for interior design. It’s actually what I went to school for.”
“Where did you go?”
“Art Institutes of New York.”
Tiffany scanned the room, which included a small eating area that led to the kitchen. “Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks.” Ed stepped to his right so he could face Tiffany. “So, uh, why the visit?” He shrugged and forced an awkward smile.
Tiffany felt her own cheeks go hot. “I need a favor, Ed.”
“Sure. What? Anything.”
She didn’t want to beat around any bushes. “Can I borrow your car?”
Ed raised his eyebrows. “My car? I thought it was going to be something about work and I was going to tell you that you could have just called and then you were going to say —”
“Ed.”
Ed stopped talking and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“I need your car. Please.”
“My car. Why?”
Tiffany wrung her hands. “I can’t tell you that.”
“How will I get to work?”
“You can take the Metro from Foggy Bottom.”
Ed blinked rapidly. “You seem to have this all worked out.”
“Please, Ed. I need your help.”
“Does this have to do with that thing you were nervous about talking to Jack about and why you haven’t been at work the past few days?”
“Yes.”
“What? You need to skip town or something? Was it that bad?”
Tiffany hesitated. She couldn’t give Ed any information. Anything she said to him could endanger him, and she didn’t want to drag him into her issues. She liked him too much to do that to him. “I can’t say. I’m sorry. I just can’t. I need your help, though.”
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“Ed, please, no more questions. I can’t tell you anything. I just can’t.”
“You’re afraid of being tracked? Is that it? What’s going on, Tiff?”
Tiffany didn’t say anything in response to Ed’s questioning. She couldn’t.
Finally Ed crossed the room and entered the kitchen. Tiffany lost sight of him but heard the soft clinking of keys. When he reemerged, he carried a key in his hand. He approached Tiffany and handed her the key. “Just bring it back to me, okay?”
“Of course.”
“In one piece.”
“Without so much as a scuff mark.”
“That’s what they always say in the movies just before the car gets totaled.”
“Not even a scuff,” she said again, trying to sound as reassuring as she could.
Ed’s mouth stretched into a subtle smile. “You know you’re going to owe me after this.”
Tiffany dropped the key into her pocket. “Get those tickets for the symphony ordered.”
“When will you be back?”
Tiffany didn’t want to lie to Ed, but the truth was she had no idea. So she lied. “Tomorrow.”
Jed sat across the table from Karen. She glanced around at their fellow passengers, then forced a smile. Jed looked at the escort who had been eyeing him but diverted his gaze quickly. It was the lead, the tall guy. He had an unpredictability about him that hinted of danger. Most men in his position —hired bodyguards or personal security contractors —were ex-military and the majority had served in Special Operations. Jed shifted in his seat. He’d noticed the lead carried a Ka-Bar tactical knife attached to his belt opposite his sidearm. The others didn’t carry knives, only pistols.
Karen glanced at the lead, then lowered her voice. “We’re doing the right thing, honey.”
Jed still had his questions, his doubts. And he didn’t like the look of the man across the aisle. Something about him didn’t sit right with Jed.
The plane began to accelerate down the runway. Outside the windows, the night was dark and blank, a vast expanse of nothingness.
Jed turned and checked on Karen.
Karen smiled and nodded, reached her hand across the table to him. He took it and squeezed. She released his hand and turned her head to the window.
Again, Jed caught the lead escort eyeing him. This time the man did not look away immediately; he held Jed’s gaze as if challenging him. Slowly he shifted his eyes around the interior of the plane, pausing at each passenger, then turned to the window.
As the plane lifted off the ground, Jed’s palms began to sweat.
“It’s okay,” Karen said.
Jed shifted again. He looked around the cabin. The other escorts sat quietly behind him. Skinner had his nose in a news magazine. The lead stared out the window, but Jed could tell by the set of his shoulders that the man was not relaxed. A thin sheen of sweat glistened across his scalp, and his neck and lower jaw were flushed.
Jed’s internal alarm screamed at him. There was only one exit from the plane —the door —and at 450 miles per hour and a cruising altitude of 35,000 feet, there was no way that door was opening. They were trapped.
Karen must have noticed Jed’s distress. She unbuckled her belt and leaned across the table between them. In almost a whisper she said, “Jedidiah, everything is all right. Calm yourself, okay? Try to relax.”
Jed knew he needed to relax, but his instincts wouldn’t let him. He could almost feel the pressure in the cabin climbing, the temperature rising. He didn’t want a confrontation. Not here. Confrontations in planes rarely ended well. But he wasn’t about to just sit there and let the big guy across the aisle make the first move.
“Honey, it’s okay,” Karen said.
The lead unbuckled his seat belt and adjusted in his seat, turning more toward the window. His sidearm was on his right, toward the cabin wall, the knife on his left. The tension of impending confrontation was thick. Jed wondered for a brief moment if it was only his imagination, if his intuition had been altered by the ordeal he’d suffered in the prison. Why would Murphy take him 35,000 feet into the sky only to have him murdered? It didn’t make sense. Murphy seemed intent on using Jed to stop Michael Connelly. Why would he sabotage his own mission?
But Jed quickly decided it was a chance he couldn’t take. The tattooed escort might have no malicious intent, but Jed needed to be prepared in case he did. He shifted his eyes from Karen to Skinner, who was dozing behind his magazine. He should do it now, jump the big guy and subdue him. If he caught him by surprise, he could render him unconscious almost immediately. There would be the other men to deal with, but they wouldn’t think of using firearms in the cabin.
But before he could move, the lead adjusted in his seat, moved forward, then in one clean, smooth motion, dipped his shoulder, withdrew his knife, and lunged across the aisle at Jed.