“Did Catherine know about your fear of the police?” he’d asked.
“Yes, she did,” she’d answered. “I told her everything. We were very close, like sisters. She depended on me.”
Then, as Theo was leaving, Rosa told him she kept expecting to read about John’s arrest in the papers because Catherine had told her that the copies she’d made of her husband’s secret files would put him in prison for the rest of his life.
“What were you supposed to do with your copies?” he asked.
“I don’t know. She told me to keep them in a safe place. I’ve been praying . . . and waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“God to tell me what to do,” she answered.
After assuring her that the papers were safe with him, he’d thanked her and left.
He was just a couple of blocks away from the hospital when he glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. Nine-fifteen. Time flies when you’re having fun, he thought. No wonder his stomach was growling, and he was yawning every other minute. He hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all day. He needed food and caffeine. Maybe after he checked on Michelle and talked to Noah, he could grab something in the hospital cafeteria.
He drove along the hospital drive, noticed there weren’t any cars under the canopy outside the emergency entrance, pulled up just beyond the No Parking sign, and parked the car in the slanted slots reserved for police.
A male nurse was coming out of the entrance as Theo was going in. “Hey, buddy, you can’t park your car there. You’ll get ticketed.”
“FBI vehicle,” Theo called back.
“Damn,” John muttered when he saw Buchanan park his car next to the building and go inside.
Dallas opened the car door. “Call Preston and Monk. Have them meet me in the stairwell, north side. I want to synchronize this just in case Buchanan gives me trouble.”
As Dallas slammed the door and took off running, John made the call. After he disconnected, he reached into the backseat and pulled his laptop into the front. Then he opened the glove compartment, got out the other set of keys he’d requested when he’d rented the car, and put the car key in the ignition.
Dallas was only just now beginning to distrust him. John smiled as he thought about that. All of them — even cynical, burned-out Cameron — for all their illegal wheeling and dealing, were naïve when it came to understanding John’s capabilities. They actually believed that he couldn’t get the money without them. What was even more amusing to him was the fact that his worker bees thought he would share the fortune. Ah, trust. What a wonderful weapon.
He leaned back and waited. It was a beautiful sultry night. Maybe it all would work out and he wouldn’t have to go to his contingency plan. Preston was acting like a hothead now, though. John was pretty sure Preston wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting someone. It would go bad then. Maybe all of them would die.
Wouldn’t that be a stroke of luck.
Theo was going to take the stairs to the second floor, but as he was crossing the hallway to get to the stairwell door, Elliott Waterson shouted at him.
“Coach? My parents are upstairs.”
The teenager was standing inside the elevator, holding the door open. He obviously thought that Theo had come to sit with Cherry and Daryl while John Patrick was in surgery.
Theo joined him. “How are you holding up, Elliott?”
The teenager began to cry. He looked like he’d been through a war. His eyes were swollen, his nose was red, and there was a sad and haunted look about him.
His head bowed, he whispered, “Did you hear what I did to my little brother?” He began to sob then. “I hurt him, Coach. I hurt him bad.”
“I’m sure it was an accident, Elliott.”
Theo knew that Michelle had rushed to the hospital and that the patient was John Patrick, the little boy who wanted him to shoot Lois, but when Michelle’s brother had called, he hadn’t given any details about the extent of the injury or how it had happened. Still, Theo knew Elliott would never intentionally hurt his brother. Elliott was a decent kid and came from a loving, close-knit family.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt John Patrick.”
“But it’s my fault and now he’s gonna die.”
Elliott nearly knocked Theo over when he threw himself against him. He was sobbing uncontrollably now, his face buried in Theo’s shoulder. Elliott was a big, strapping boy who outweighed Theo by at least thirty pounds, but he was still a kid who needed to be comforted.
“Let’s go find your mother,” Theo suggested.
Barely coherent, Elliott stammered, “I never should have . . . I didn’t mean to . . .”
Theo’s heart ached for him. He put his arm around him and patted. “It’s going to be okay.” It wasn’t a promise; it was a prayer. “You’ve got to have hope, Elliott.”
He realized then that the elevator wasn’t moving. He stretched his other arm around the teenager so he could reach the button.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Mom told me not to get him the dartboard. She said he was too little and he could cut himself on those sharp darts, but John Patrick really wanted it for his birthday present, so I got it for him anyway. Mom was really mad at me,” he stammered. “I should have taken it back . . . but I didn’t. I hung the board with some rope off the big tree in the front yard. I put it down low so John Patrick could use it, and when it started to get dark and he got tired of playing with it and climbed up in the tree like he likes to do, I picked up the darts and I started throwing them. I got back real far, and I was really hurling them.”
Theo winced. He knew what was coming. Elliott was too distraught to go on. The elevator doors opened, and Theo pulled him along as he stepped out.
Noah was leaning against the wall facing the elevators. When he saw Elliott with Theo, he immediately went down the hall to get the boy’s parents.
“John Patrick jumped down out of the tree just as I hurled a dart,” Elliott sobbed. “I got him in the chest, maybe his heart . . . I don’t know, but he didn’t cry. He just looked so surprised. I was screaming ‘no’ and running to him ’cause I knew what he was going to do. He tried to pull the dart out . . . but it didn’t come out . . . just the fuzzy end . . . and he closed his eyes and went down on the ground. He . . . just . . . crumbled. I thought he was dead. Daddy saw it happen too. He had just gotten out of the van and was going up the steps. John Patrick’s gonna die, isn’t he, Coach? I know he is.”
Theo didn’t know what to say that could possibly console the boy. He cleared his throat and then said decisively, “Come on. Let’s go find your mother.”
There were signs on the wall directly ahead of him across from the elevator. Surgery was to the left down a long hallway. Noah had gone right, and Theo pulled Elliott along as he turned to follow. Noah stepped out of an open door and moved out of the way as Cherry and Daryl came hurrying toward Theo.
When Elliott saw his mother, he let go of Theo and ran to her. She put her arms around him and hugged him.
“I’m so sorry to hear about John Patrick,” Theo said to Daryl.
The father looked as though he had aged ten years since they’d met. “I know, I know.”
“He’s such a little boy,” Cherry cried.
“But he’s strong,” Daryl told her. “He’s going to make it.”
“How long has he been in surgery?” Theo asked.
“A half hour now,” he answered.
“Any word yet? A progress report?”
Elliott had let go of his mother and was now standing beside her, holding her hand. Cherry looked dazed.
Daryl answered the question. “Dr. Mike sent a nurse in a few minutes ago to tell us it’s going well. Did you hear that, Elliott?” he asked. “You had just gone downstairs to look for the minister when that nurse came in. Dr. Mike said that John Patrick’s guardian angel was looking out for him because the arrow missed hitting an artery. The nurse was guessing it would be another hour at least before the operation is finished.”
“They may have to give my boy a transfusion,” Cherry said.
“So we were thinking we ought to go down to the lab and give them some of our blood,” Daryl said, “in case John Patrick needs it.”
“They’re not going to take your blood, Daryl,” Cherry said. “Not with your recent surgery.”
“I’m going to ask them all the same.”
“I’m going to give my blood too,” Elliott said. He stepped away from his mother, straightened, and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands.
“Where are your other boys?” Theo asked.
“Down in the cafeteria,” Cherry said. “I should check on them. Henry must be getting fretful. It’s past his bedtime, and I didn’t think to bring his little blanket he likes to hold up against his nose when he sucks his thumb.” She started crying.
Daryl put his arm around her. “Henry’s just fine. The reverend’s wife is going to take the little ones home and put them to bed,” he explained to Theo. “They should be here any minute, so let’s get going to the lab, Cherry. I want to get back here before the doctor comes out.”
Daryl was agitated. Theo understood the father’s need to do something, anything, to help his child. Waiting would have driven Theo crazy, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine the anguish John Patrick’s parents were going through.
“Maybe one of us ought to stay here,” Cherry said as the elevator doors opened.
“I’ll be here,” Theo said. “I’ll page you if anything happens.”
Noah had hung back, but as soon as the elevator doors closed, he walked over to Theo. “The mother looks like she’s in shock.”
“How bad was it? Do you know?”
“It looked bad, but I honestly don’t know. It got crazy here. I was watching Mike through the window. She was standing at the sink scrubbing her hands and arms and looking at the X rays another doctor was holding up for her. There were nurses and doctors and technicians rushing back and forth. Everyone seemed to be shouting orders, everyone but Mike. She was as calm and cool as a summer breeze.” His voice was filled with admiration. “She sure knows how to handle herself in a crisis. I guess that’s why she became a surgeon.”
Theo nodded. “She was that way last night when the bullets were flying all around us.”
“Speaking of bullets flying, did you get everything done in New Orleans?”
“Oh, yes,” Theo said. “You’re not going to believe what I found out.”
He then told Noah about the Sowing Club and the millions of dollars tucked away in a Cayman Islands account. When he was finished taking Noah through the steps that had led him to Cameron and Rosa, he added, “I want to get John Russell, but I have a feeling there’s more to his crimes than what’s in those records. As soon as the detectives pick up Cameron Lynch, I’ll talk to him. He’ll tell me what I want to know.”
“From what Nick’s told me about your powers of persuasion, I don’t doubt you’ll get him to talk. I want to look at those papers.”
“I left copies in the glove compartment of your car.”
“Was that smart?”
Theo smiled. “Didn’t I mention copies went out to my boss, the IRS, the FBI, and my home?”
“No, you didn’t mention that. You said the initials next to those transactions were J, C, P, and D,” Noah said. “Too bad John didn’t put their full names.”
“Maybe Catherine did. Maybe there was an explanation with the papers she sent Michelle.”
“John Russell is obviously J, and Cameron Lynch is C. So who are P and D?”
“That’s the riddle, and I bet I’ll have the answer soon. Detectives Underwood and Basham have a couple of other detectives running all over New Orleans talking to some of John’s associates. It won’t be long before we have the names.”
“Maybe Detective Harris knows who they are. Has she called yet?”
“No.”
Noah shook his head. “Guess she isn’t a woman of her word. It’s been over twelve hours, and didn’t she promise to give you a copy of the file then?”
“She’ll probably be furious when she finds out I got a copy from Rosa.”
“But you’re not going to tell her.”
“Hell, no,” he said. “I’m not sharing information with her. I’m going to let Underwood and Basham make the collars and take the credit.”
He heard his name being paged over the speaker, saw the phone on the wall directly across from the elevator, and walked over to answer it. As soon as he identified himself, the operator put him on hold. Two seconds later, Detective Underwood came on the line.
The conversation was very informative. Then Theo said, “Sure, I’ll be waiting. Let me know.” He hung up and turned to Noah. “Preston and Dallas.”
“Yeah? That was quick.”
“One of the detectives got the names from John’s ex-girlfriend. A woman named Lindsey. She was trying to get in John’s house, said she’d left some clothes. She told him she had met Cameron but never the others. She’d heard John talking on the phone, though, and remembered the names Preston and Dallas because they called often.”
“No last names?”
“Not yet. And guess what? Another man called once looking for Dallas. His name was Monk. She remembered the phone call because John was so deferential to him, like he almost was afraid of him.”
“Interesting,” Noah said. “Did Lindsey ever talk to him or any of the others?”
“No,” Theo answered. “She wasn’t allowed to answer the phone, said John told her he didn’t want people to know he was shacking up with her so soon after his wife’s death. She also told the detective they were supposed to get married, but John came home a couple of nights ago, told her to pack up and get out. He wasn’t nice about it.”
“Which is why she’s so chatty now?”
“Exactly. I figure they’ll have Preston and Dallas under wraps before midnight.”
“Could be sooner,” Noah said. “How did Detective Underwood find you?”
“I told him I’d be on my cell phone or at The Swan. John Paul or Jake must have told him I was at the hospital.”
“So all we have to do is hang tight a little longer. It’ll be over soon.” Theo yawned loudly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I need some caffeine.”