Jake drove home like a maniac, nearly wiping out on the same tree that had brought Shannon to him. He stripped on his way to the shower. No amount of soap and water could wash away the guilt, remorse and embarrassment he felt. He had no right to use Shannon in this way, to let her think they could have a future. He was no better than the men who had come to him for confession years earlier, telling of their sins of the flesh and promising God they’d never do it again. Until the next time.
She had felt so good in his arms, her skin against his skin, her eyes closed as she moved beneath him, taking him into her. And then, like a horny sixteen year old, he’d misfired. She was so damned understanding it made him want to cry. But that next time. My God, that second time.
Now he felt sick. He couldn’t imagine where to go from here. Would Shannon expect this new intimacy in their relationship to continue? Jake admittedly didn’t know much about women. But he knew that moving from a friendship—a very brief friendship—to an intense physical relationship meant something. If he were honest, he’d admit it meant something to him. Something he wasn’t free to act on. Even though he already had. How in the hell would he ever explain this to her? Show up at her door dressed in clerics and say, “There’s something I should have told you?” What if he just never called, didn’t see her again? He’d be no better than the other men in her life who had used her and hurt her. And he wanted to be better than that. He wanted Shannon and Bailey in his life.
He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist and returned to the bedroom. His cell phone lay on the dresser. He picked it up and punched in Caleb’s number. His call went to voicemail. “Caleb, it’s Jake. We need to talk as soon as possible.”
There, he’d initiated a conversation. He would tell Caleb he’d give whatever additional testimony was needed to nail the coffin shut on Lou Crowley and Sara Martin, once they caught up with them. Jake would let them videotape, give him a lie detector test to prove the truth of his testimony, do whatever they wanted. But he had to end this charade now. He had to get himself free.
After getting dressed and grabbing a quick breakfast, he loaded the carved pieces into his truck to be delivered to two customers in Seattle. By the time he returned home this evening, he’d hopefully figure out what to say to Shannon. He’d promised to call, and he would to that.
~ * ~
Lou Crowley shoved a stack of clean shirts into a suitcase. “You want something done, you just have to do it yourself.”
“I don’t like this, Lou. It’s not safe to go back.” Sara chewed on her thumbnail.
“You don’t need to worry about it. You’re not going. Besides, I’m not going back, I’m going to Washington State.” He zipped the bag closed. “Bruno found Avery and now Bruno’s in the wind. He’s not answering calls. But I know where to find Avery now, and it’s time to end this.”
“It’s already ended if we just leave things alone. Please don’t go,” Sara pleaded.
“The Feds won’t stop looking for us, you know that.” Lou laughed. “Don’t you find it ironic that they moved Avery to Washington State, practically our back yard? It’s like they want me to find him.”
“He’s already told them about our involvement with Alvin and the kids, and I’m sure Alvin’s given them an earful, too. Lou, we’ve been here for almost two years. I like it here. No one knows who we are. We have good friends. Why risk all of that?”
He whirled on her. “You don’t get it, do you? This is about one thing only—revenge. Avery was a pain in my ass from the start. The shining star of our graduating class at the seminary. Father Perfect.”
She stared at him. “Tell me again why you became a priest in the first place?”
“We’ve been through this. What better cover? At least it was until people started screaming rape and every priest was suspect. But not Father Avery. Everyone loved him. If he’d just looked the other way, followed the code and kept his mouth shut.”
“When will you be back?”
“Don’t know. It’ll take as long as it takes.” He picked up his bag and grinned at her. “Wish me luck.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away. He sighed. “I’ll call.”
“Wait. I’m going with you.” Sara pulled a suitcase from the closet and laid it open on the bed.
“You couldn’t have decided this sooner?”
Crowley punched the address Bruno had given him into his GPS. It would be a twelve hour drive, give or take. He drove out of Logan, Utah and headed west. If they drove straight through, they’d reach Snoqualmie around midnight. He’d locate the house, make sure this Jake Garber was Steve Avery, then make sure he was dead for good.
Sara fussed with her seat belt. “How long is the drive?”
“Twelve hours.”
“Where will we stop for the night?”
“We won’t. With two of us to drive, there’ll be no problem driving straight through.”
Sara played with her iPhone. “We go through Boise.”
“Yeah, so?”
“There are things to do in Boise. I’ve never been there. Oh, look, there’s a Casablanca-style café. I loved that movie. Can we stop there?”
Lou slid a glance toward her. “This isn’t a freakin’ vacation.”
She blanched at his tone. “We’re goin’ there anyway. I don’t see the big deal.”
Her finger slid across the screen of the phone. “Okay, so when you’re finished with business, can we drive over to Seattle and see the Space Needle?”
Lou made a hard right into the parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts and slammed on the brakes. “You didn’t want to come. I was fine with that. Then you decide to come along. I was fine with that. But hear this—” He turned in the seat and leaned toward her. “This is not a vacation. This is not a trip to see the tourist sights. I’m here to kill a man,” he shouted.
Sara flinched and cowered. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just thought….”
“Well, don’t think.” Lou shifted into drive and peeled from the lot, narrowly missing a minivan. The driver laid on the horn and flipped him a one-fingered salute.
Lou stuck his arm out the window and returned the signal. “Asshole.”
He thought about his life, growing up in Trenton, with a drunk for a mother and a dead-beat con man for a father. The only place he’d felt safe as a kid was at the church. He was an altar boy. Not an angel, by any means. But the priest, Father Corrigan, believed in him, thought he had potential. That priest probably kept Lou out of Juvie. His own decision to pursue the priesthood had a double motive. On one hand, he thought just maybe his having Father Corrigan come into his life at a difficult time was a sign of where he was heading. On the other hand, he saw how loved and trusted the priest was. What a great cover. He was, after all, his father’s son.
Then he met Steve Avery. Father Squeaky Clean, all high ideals and piety. No matter what Lou did, he could never measure up, never have all the right answers. He got drummed out of the priesthood after some money went missing and Lou had been to the casino for a long weekend. He didn’t get it. Other priests got away with much worse, just a got a slap on the hand and changed to a new parish. But Lou, no, there was no mercy for Lou.
Alvin Martin saw some redeeming qualities in Lou. The dumbass actually thought he was helping Lou to help poor orphan kids connect with good homes. Sara was a good actress, he’d give her that. She’d convinced Alvin everything was above board, at least until he was in too deep to do anything about it.
Just Lou’s dumb luck that Father Perfect was assigned to Alvin’s parish. And he screwed up everything. Lou’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, imagining it was Steve Avery’s neck. He sure the hell hoped Bruno got things right before he fell off the earth, that this Jake Garber was Steve Avery incognito.
Everybody thought Avery was dead. Lou would just make that a reality.
They’d driven in silence for over two hours before Sara said, “Lou, I have to pee. Can we stop?”
He shook his head. Not only did they not need to take forever to get to Snoqualmie, wherever the hell that was, they didn’t need to make a lot of stops and risk finding their pictures posted on some damned bulletin board. Sara had gotten far too comfortable with their anonymous life in Utah. But they were still wanted by the Feds.
He exited off of 86 at Twin Falls and found a fast food joint. “We might as well have lunch.”
“What do you think happened to Bruno?” Sara asked before popping a fry into her mouth.
“Hell if I know. He wasn’t too happy about being stuck in that town. He may have just given up and ridden off.”
“What if he got caught?”
“If he has any sense at all, he’ll keep his trap shut.”
“What if Steve killed him?”
Lou snorted. “Father Do-Right? Are you kidding?” He crumpled the wrappers from his burger and fries. “Hurry up. We need to get back on the road. I’m gonna hit the men’s room.” While washing this hands, Lou looked at himself in the mirror. He’d watched the court proceedings against Alvin on TV. The Bishop had testified and had called Lou “soulless.” As far as Lou was concerned, religion was built on the premise of the existence of both good and evil. Without evil, how would one recognize good? He was just playing a role, fulfilling his calling. Hadn’t Judas been just as important as Peter in that regard?
When they got back into the car, Sara turned on the radio and flipped through the channels—over and over and over.
“Pick one or turn it off,” Lou ordered.
She turned it off and faced him. “What is wrong with you? All you’ve done is snipe at me since we left Logan. Before we left, even.”
“I’m sorry, okay. Gimme a break.” He paused. “Tell you what. Since we’re so close by, when I finish the job, we’ll go see that Space Needle.”
Sara smiled. “Thanks. Maybe we can take the long way home.”
Lou shook his head. Maybe Steve Avery wasn’t the only thing he needed to get rid of. They were going through the money fast now. He needed a new resource, or he needed to reduce his spending. He’d thought about moving up to Canada, but it was hard to take up residence there. Mexico, now that would be a new market for him. He already had connections there.
It was close to one a.m. when Lou drove into Snoqualmie. He pulled into the parking lot of a closed grocery store and checked the address Bruno had given him. Looked like he was only about three miles from the Garber place. He’d check out the location tonight, then find a place to crash.
A light misty rain had begun to fall, just enough to make the wipers necessary. “Turn right in thirty feet,” the robotic voice told him. “Drive four fifths of one mile. Your destination is on the left in thirty feet.”
Lou slowed when he saw the sign indicating a sharp curve. Just beyond the curve, he saw the mailbox: J. Garber. He’d arouse too much suspicion if he pulled into the drive at this hour. He kept moving until he found a place to turn around. On his return trip, he discovered a pull-off just around the curve. Perfect for his morning observation.
Sara snorted and coughed, then wakened. “Are we there yet?” She sat up and blinked. “Where the hell are we?”
“The middle of nowhere. Garber’s place is just behind us around that curve. Let’s find a room.”
The desk clerk at the small motel on the edge of town was not all that happy to be called to the desk. He yawned and buzzed the outer door open.
“You got a room?” Lou asked.
“Single, double, or king?”
“King.”
“Smoking or non?”
“Non.” Lou presented his ID and a credit card. He’d purchased the fake ID for five hundred bucks. Good investment.
The clerk ran the credit card, copied his ID, and slid a registration form across the counter for his signature. “That’ll be one twenty-nine a night.”
“Jesus, who do you think you are? Conrad freakin’ Hilton?”
“No, sir. It’s peak tourist season. How many nights?”
“Two.” He filled in the form indicating two adults and signed the charge slip.
“You’re in 206 around the back. Have a good night.”
Lou took the small cardboard folder containing two key cards. He drove to the back of the building, removed their bags from the trunk, and followed Sara up the steps.
Inside the room, he sniffed. “I should just bring Avery’s body here. The room already smells like something died in it.”
“Turn on the AC. That’ll help,” Sara said.
He was getting really sick and tired of her attitude, her optimism.
While Sara unpacked, Lou went to take a shower. His muscles were in knots after more than twelve hours of driving. When he came back to the bedroom, Sara was already snoring softly. He opened his bag and removed his gun, checking it for readiness for morning. Lifting the weapon, he aimed it toward Sara. “Pow,” he said softly and smiled.