Extreme Measures Page 8

  Matt cursed under his breath. “No, you didn’t, and that was part of the problem. You shut me out, Erin. From the moment I put those handcuffs on Stuart, you stopped talking to me, at least about anything that mattered.”

  The accusation smacked her, ringing in its intensity. Matt had never forgiven her for trying to protect herself from any more pain. He’d been all about the law and justice, seeing nothing but Stuart’s guilt and what needed to be done. Not for one moment had he considered what should have been done.

  She traced a pattern on the window with her fingertip. “You didn’t let me talk to him then, Matt, but regardless of what you think, I need to talk to him now. Maybe this isn’t just about what he wants.”

  A vulgar curse word, one he rarely used, exploded from his lips, and Matt moved the car over into the right lane, taking the next exit with more speed than finesse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This isn’t a conversation I’m going to have with you in a moving vehicle.” The closest stop was a mini-mart just off the highway. Matt pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He didn’t immediately look at her. “You can’t talk to Stuart. No one can.”

  “What do you mean?” Her heart sped up. Whatever was going on inside of Stuart’s mind, there still had to be a part of him that wanted to talk to her, that needed to talk to her, too.

  “He’s not rational. After he escaped, we pulled his file. Stuart has been in and out of the psych unit inside prison. He hears voices, has hallucinations. The last psychiatrist who attempted to treat him Stuart almost choked to death. No one else is willing.” He finally looked at her then. “No matter what you try to say to Stuart, he only hears what he wants to hear, and how he perceives it can set him off.”

  Cold chills raced down Erin’s arms while the words reverberated inside her head. “There’s no history of mental illness in our family.” Her voice trailed off. “But the drugs, I suppose.” She shook her head, biting her lower lip to keep from crying. “Do the doctors think it was the drugs?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  The hesitation in his voice made her push. “Yes.” She had to know what had caused her big brother to change so drastically if it wasn’t just the drugs.

  Matt turned to face her then, his eyes filled with both sadness and caution. “The lack of drugs can cause the hallucinations. He gets his hands on whatever he can and that tides him over for a while then he crashes.”

  More hesitancy. Erin frowned. “But?”

  “He’s become very anti-social and is easily provoked. It doesn’t take much for him to lose his temper. His doctors have been concerned about the cause of the issue and have attempted medication which Stuart won’t take. Their biggest fear is that whatever is going on is going to get worse, that Stuart’s temperament is going to segue into something much worse than it already is.”

  “So what do they think could be causing the change?” Erin tried not to nibble on her fingernails like she did when she was nervous. She clasped her hands together in her lap and focused all of her attention on Matt’s voice.

  “It could be organic or medical, but Stuart has refused all medical tests.”

  “Do they…are they thinking something could be wrong with him physically? Like a brain tumor?” Her mouth tasted like a copper penny as the nerves punched her in the stomach. If Stuart was as dangerous as they said he was, then any type of escalation would spell disaster for anyone who crossed his path. She closed her eyes, attempting to shut out the image of a long line of dead bodies from New York to South Carolina.

  Matt sighed, rested his hand on her knee. “They don’t have anything concrete, but that’s their supposition.”

  “Do you think Stuart might know there’s something wrong with him, and that’s why he escaped? If he’s dying, he has nothing to lose.” The acrid smell of fear burned her nostrils. Was there any way for her brother to know he was dying? Had he discovered the information on his own some way?

  Tipping his finger under her chin, Matt smiled at her. “You’re extremely smart.” He removed his cell, swiped the screen to unlock it, and punched a number with rapid efficiency. He didn’t take his eyes off her face when he spoke. “Jacob, we need to find out who Stuart’s been hanging out with, specifically any doctors doing time with him.”

  The blue lights in the rearview mirror made Stuart sweat, but from all outside appearances, he was in complete control. Motioning for Arlin to keep his mouth shut, he pulled the sedan to the side of the road, making sure the pistol was tucked beneath his leg before the cop approached.

  The highway patrolman came up beside the door, careful to avoid the opened window. "Sir, please keep your hands where I can see them."

  Stuart shot Arlin a glance then waved his hands out the window like an obedient child. The gun dug into the back side of his thigh. He should be nervous knowing a cop stood just outside his window. Instead, a sense of serenity washed over him, assuring him everything was going to be okay. "Certainly, Officer."

  A gray uniform came into view, the man wearing it well over six feet and muscled. Dark sunglasses shielded his eyes, and if Stuart were the type to be intimidated, this guy would do it. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?"

  Stuart pretended to consider the question, all the while thinking how much he hated cops. "Well, I'm not sure." He scratched his head then shrugged. “I believe I was going fifty-five or so. But my friend and me were just having a conversation, so it's entirely possible I lost track." His smile brightened. "Sorry about that."

  His amiable persona slid into place even while his mind measured out his next steps. He wasn’t going back to prison, and to prevent that, this cop couldn’t walk back to his car or use his radio. Stuart shifted on the seat, taking comfort in the feel of warm steel beneath his leg.

  "I'm going to need to see your driver's license and registration." The patrolman eased up on his stance, lowering his guard.

  Stuart took the opening. He lifted the pistol and fired. The first bullet caught the cop between the eyes-the second in the neck. Blood spurted from the man's jugular and sprayed the side of the car and Stuart.

  A rush of adrenaline had him shouting and pumping his fist in the air. “Yeah! You think you’re going to interrogate me, you dumb bastard? Well, who’s asking the questions now, huh?”

  He shifted into drive, laying the gun on the seat between them. "Damn. Now we need to dump this car. He probably already called in the plates.”

  Arlin shrugged and slid one hand over the barrel of the pistol, a loving gesture as a man might do to his woman. "Naw, he would have had us get out of the car if he’d known it was stolen. I doubt mom and pops even reported it.”

  His nerves were live wires, dancing with electricity. Not even a snout full of coke had given him such a high before. “That was intense.” He shot his cellmate a grin.

  “For now, I’ll let you do all the shooting.” Arlin twisted his skinny neck around to see where the cop lay in his own blood. “’Course, it’s only a matter of time before more big, bad pigs come looking for him. Might be wise for us to lay low once we ditch the car.”

  Stuart’s joy evaporated just as quickly as it had appeared. “We’re too close to Erin. I’m not stopping.”

  “You killed a cop. There’ll be road blocks and helicopters buzzing around within the hour.” Arlin sounded cross.

  “That’s why we’re getting rid of this smooth piece of machinery. We’ll find something else, but I ain’t spending one more night without seeing my dear, sweet sister’s face.”

  "Well, I vote for an SUV this time. More room."

  "We're not going car-shopping. We'll take whatever we can get." The collar of his shirt growing tighter, Stuart flexed his hands around the steering wheel. “As soon as we can get it.”

  "Hope it comes equipped with a couple of hot chicks. Those gals at the bus stop were okay looking, but they screamed too much."

  Yeah, Stuart had hated that, too, but at
least they'd willingly given up the secret part of town where deals could be made. A couple shots of heroin had perked him up quite nicely.

  Arlin snickered, drawing Stuart’s gaze. “What’s so funny?”

  “Just thinking ‘bout that cop’s face if he could have seen what’s in the trunk of this car.”

  Stuart joined in the laughter. “Well, we’ll be sure and leave those ladies for the boys in blue to find. Them guys like finding dead bodies. They should thank us for giving them so much job security.”

  "Got some bad news." Jacob didn't mince words. Matt liked that about him...ordinarily. After the last couple of days he’d had, he could have used a lead-in. "Turns out one of O’Malley’s former cellmates was a surgeon doing time for executing his wife. A couple other guys on the block were nurses. I talked to the warden, and he’s going to see what he can find out from those three.”

  “Perfect. A surgeon would recognize a serious physical problem.” Matt knew before his boss returned his call the answer was going to be yes. Stuart was taking a lot of risks and not just those an ordinary escapee would take. He was leaving dead bodies behind while most convicts on the run wanted to lay low. Stuart clearly didn’t care.

  “That’s not all. Three other inmates followed O'Malley’s track out of Attica. One's already been caught, but the other two are on the run."

  Matt gripped the phone and turned his head away from Erin's curious gaze. "How in the hell are we just finding this out now?”

  “The Marshalls knew about it, but all of our focus was on O’Malley. We only got the news about Erin’s brother because he’s flagged in our system.”

  It made sense, but it didn’t make Matt any happier. “Those other guys, what were they in for?"

  "One was two months into a nickel for armed robbery. The other's a lifer."

  Matt's pungent curse had Erin squeezing his hand, drawing his attention back to her face. He held up one hand to silence her questions. "Any tracks?"

  "No. These guys have gone the way of the dodo."

  "Any indication they might be traveling with O'Malley?"

  Erin had gone a shade paler, and he squeezed her hand in return to offer support. If Stuart was coming with back-up, he couldn’t risk the chance the men would split up. "Nothing concrete. What are you thinking?”

  “That Stuart might have planned more than just an escape from prison.”

  A steady tapping accompanied Jacob’s response. “He has had a few years to put something together. We just didn’t consider he’d involve more than himself in any plot for revenge.”

  The rhythm of Jacob’s pencil changed, a sure sign his agitation was increasing. “If they are with Stuart, one or both of them might have already made it to Charleston.” He tried not to let Erin’s quick indrawn breath bother him.

  “I’ll notify the local office now, and we’ll get some back-up from the locals.”

  “No one who knows Erin is safe, Jacob.”

  “We’ll need a list.”

  "Yeah, I know. I'll be in touch." Matt closing the cell phone and returned it to the inside pocket of his jacket. He swiveled on the seat, beginning to answer her questions before she could ask them. “At least two other inmates are still on the run. We don’t know if they’re with Stuart or not, but it’s possible he’s planned this out to the letter. He’s had plenty of time to dwell on this, and he’s probably taken into consideration anything law enforcement would do.”

  Erin blinked at him, eyes huge, but when she spoke, her voice remained calm, controlled. “And those other escapees could already be in Charleston, looking for me while Stuart tries to keep the FBI and local police busy with murders. So you’re going to need a list of my friends and anyone I associate with on a daily basis.”

  Matt wanted to believe Erin really was as level as she sounded, but he knew her too well. Read the tension in her shoulders. Saw the slight wobble to her lower lip. She was close to breaking. He wished they had time for it, but he needed to keep her in control for now.

  She pulled a pen and a small notebook out of her purse and began writing down names in her elegant script. "I don’t go out much so there are only a few people, most of them are at the coffee shop. Oh, and Mrs. Hennessy. She owns the apartment building. We have lunch together every so often. Her husband died a few months ago, and she’s been very lonely.”

  Matt just let her talk, revealing details about each of her friends in a monotone voice. When she finally finished the list and handed it to him, he captured it and her hand. “Jacob is notifying the police and the FBI branch.”

  She tugged her hand free and united it with the other one in her lap. “I guess we should go then.”

  Leaving didn’t sit right with his gut anymore. He’d never trust anyone else with Erin’s safety, and the last thing he could be when preparing to face O’Malley was distracted. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, considering his limited options.

  Jacob wouldn’t have a problem with him staying in Charleston, but he’d take issue with Matt’s decision to keep Erin with him. But Matt couldn’t think of another way to know she’d be protected. As long as she was with him and stayed by his side, he’d keep her alive.

  He started the engine and spun the car around. Erin remained silent until he took the interstate back towards Charleston.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The best way I know to protect you is to keep you in my sight.”

  She sighed. “Matt, I appreciate your concern for my safety, but it’s more important to get Stuart off the street. You’re not going to be able to focus if you’re worried about me.”

  “And you think you being out of my sight is going to help that?”

  “You should trust the other agents more.”

  “I do trust them. I trust them with my life…just not with yours.”

  Chapter Eight

  Stuart had been sweating since Arlin had told him about Billy. Not that he’d let his cellmate see. If Arlin saw the slightest weakness, he went for the jugular.

  Humming beside him in the passenger seat of the four door sedan they’d acquired from a backwoods drug store, Arlin looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Probably didn’t think he did anyway.

  Billy had to already be in Charleston, but had he found Erin? That might make Stuart’s job a little easier, but he didn’t want Billy or Arlin there when he met up with Erin. No, the conversation he needed to have with her had to be private. Her divorce would make that much easier.

  He’d been a little surprised when her co-worker had filled him in on the end of his sister’s marriage. Matt and Erin had gone together like hot summers and cold beer. They were the last couple he ever expected to get divorced. He liked to think that maybe, just maybe, Erin hadn’t forgiven Matt for slapping the handcuffs on Stuart when he was at his lowest.

  He smirked. He liked the idea that he might be the cause of Erin’s divorce. The little bitch deserved everything he could give her and more. His fingers dug into the steering wheel as the anger swirled in his head like a heavy fog.

  She’d just walked away from him, kicked him when he was down. He’d needed her, needed some support, but Erin had been too good to forgive him, had even testified against him, and the judge had given him a life sentence because of it. After all, if a man’s family didn’t think he was any good, how was the state supposed to think so?

  Then Erin had turned her back on him the second he was shipped off to prison, wouldn’t even accept his letters, like she was too good to communicate with a prisoner. How could she have forgotten all those times he’d protected her in high school? Didn’t she remember Bud Nichols, the greasy old janitor who’d tried to cop a feel when she walked past the boiler room? Stuart had popped him a good one for that, and Bud had never tried anything like that again.

  No, all Erin could remember was him killing their parents, like they were perfect saints or something. They weren’t. Not even close. Both of them had kicked him out when they’d
found out about his drug habit. They’d acted like he didn’t even exist. Erin hadn’t. She’d still talked to him even though Matt didn’t want her associating with a drug addict, him being FBI and all. Erin hadn’t cared, though. She’d still been there for him…until that night.

  His vision went blurry, and he rubbed his eyes to wipe away the cloudiness. How could she forget all those times he’d helped her?

  “Relax, will ya?” Arlin barked, rolling his small head on the rest to glare at Stuart. “You sound like a running bull.” He sat up a bit straighter, leaned in for a closer look. “You’re thinking about your sweet, little sister, aren’t you? Well, maybe Billy will do you a favor and finish her off himself. That way, you won’t even have to dirty your hands with another family member’s blood.” He cackled and closed his eyes with a snort.

  The gun beneath Stuart’s leg called to him, and he wanted so bad to pull it out and put a couple of rounds between Arlin’s eyes. Not yet, though. Not until he was with Erin. Once he’d gotten rid of Billy and Arlin, he could take his time with his sister. His slow, sweet time.

  A trio of patrol cars passed them on the left, and Stuart held his breath. Arlin had wanted to lay low again after the cop shooting, but Stuart was tired of waiting. He’d waited four long years for a chance to see Erin again, but now, as two more cars fell in behind the first three, he started to sweat.

  “Arlin, sit up. We might have a problem.”

  “Are you sure all of this is necessary?” Erin waited outside in the hallway while Matt scoped out the hotel room. “I doubt even my brother would know the exact room inside the exact hotel in Charleston, no matter how much of a mastermind he is. And from what I know about him, he’s not a computer genius so he’s not going to be able to hack into the hotel’s system.”

  When Matt didn’t immediately respond, she took a step closer to the door. “Hello? Are you even listening to me?” A door slammed behind her, and she jumped. She looked over her shoulder in time to see a young woman offer her an apologetic smile. Despite her heart’s rapid acceleration, Erin managed a nod in response.