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Witness Betrayed Page 5
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The towel muffled Frank’s voice. “She doesn’t look up to traveling to me. My God, look what they did to her. Poor Lori.”
“She’s lucky she’s not dead. If I hadn’t been here, she would be. So let’s go. Go down to the parking lot and watch for them. Take out anybody you see coming for her. Then find my truck, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay, give me your keys. You still got that old junker green Ram truck?” Frank asked, and Novak nodded. Caloroso took off. Novak was glad he’d shown up. He would even the odds up a bit, but not all that much. Seemed their adversaries outnumbered them.
Novak knelt and dug through the thug’s pockets and found nothing. The bad guys had learned a lesson with the first two guys: don’t carry identification when you’re out to murder people. Then he left him lying unconscious on the floor and pressed the button summoning the nurse. Nobody came quickly, so he stepped out in the hallway.
“We need help down here! Some guy stumbled in and collapsed. He’s hurt bad.”
Within seconds, two rattled nurses ran past him into the room. One knelt beside the unconscious man; the other checked Lori’s vitals. The nurse taking care of the intruder looked back at Novak. “What happened here? Who is this man?”
“I don’t know. He just staggered in here and fell down face first. When I saw he was bleeding, I called you.”
Novak watched her push the guy’s face to the side to clear his breathing passages. He wanted to know if the guy worked there. “Do you know him? He’s wearing scrubs. Does he work on this floor?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him up here. He might be a new orderly or something, but he’s not wearing an ID badge.”
There was no more time for chitchat. Novak moved back out of the way when two orderlies rushed in with a gurney. He watched them lift the guy, and then he followed them out into the corridor and watched them run their patient down the hall and into the staff elevator. The nurses’ station was deserted, the other nurses checking out other patients for unconscious intruders. Another was on the phone trying to find out who the new patient was. They were all aflutter and discombobulated. Good, he wanted them distracted. He moved back to the bed. Lori had slept peacefully through the entire attack, dead to the world. Must be a heck of a sedative, but that was a good thing.
Novak wanted Lori Garner out of that room, out of the hospital, and then out of town. She was a sitting duck. They knew where she was, and they’d keep coming until she was no longer a threat to them. He didn’t know exactly what the hell was going down, but he was involved now. This woman was number one on somebody’s kill list. She had made it to the shower okay earlier, and now she had a pretty good incentive to leave. Outside, the nurses were back but still rushing around, the new shift arriving and being briefed in a staff room. So he grabbed a wheelchair parked down at the dead end of the hall. By the time he was back and had it next to her bed, Gabriel LeFevres showed up. Novak was not encouraged by the look on the detective’s face. He made a quick decision that he hoped wasn’t the wrong one. He had to tell LeFevres the truth, or at least a partial truth, and hope the detective believed him. They were friends, and Gabriel owed him a favor. Still, Gabe was no fool.
“Going somewhere with my witness, Novak?”
“Yeah, if you’ll help me get her out of here.”
“So let me get this straight, Novak. That unconscious guy downstairs in the ER? They told me he wandered into this very room and collapsed. And that’s a coincidence? Don’t think so. He’s got a concussion from a serious blow to the head. Why does that make me think you might’ve hit him, Novak?”
“Okay, you want to know the truth? That guy waltzed in here in the middle of the night and tried to smother your witness with her pillow. I took offense. So naturally, I knocked the hell out of him before she ended up dead. That’s try number two now by somebody. If they go to these lengths to get her, they’ll keep coming. You know that, and I know that.”
LeFevres stared at him. Novak knew the look. It wasn’t always the good kind, but the detective hadn’t slapped him in cuffs yet. He decided to embroider his story before that happened.
“Know what else? I’m taking her down to Bonne Terre where they can’t find her. If I don’t, they’ll get her somewhere and somehow. They aren’t going to stop. She told me that herself. You want her death on your conscience?”
“That’s not going to happen. I’ll put a uniform outside the door. She’ll be safe here.”
“How about after she’s released and walks out that door? Your guys going home with her?”
Gabe frowned. “What is this, Novak? Fill me in. Give me the truth for a change, or I’m not letting you take this woman anywhere.”
“You know the truth. When she came to, she gave me the name of a good friend of mine, a man that I trust with my life. Frank Caloroso. He sent her here to find me because he needs my help with a problem. So that’s what I’m gonna do.” He hesitated, considering whether to mention Frank was waiting downstairs, but decided against it because of the warrant. “I can’t protect her here. I can do that in the bayou. You’ve been to my plantation. You know how hard it is to find.”
Gabe was not buying what Novak was selling. “The chief will have my head if I let you take her out of town. She’s a material witness in a double murder investigation. So are you, by the way.”
“She’s also one of the victims. These guys are organized criminals, Gabe. Three of them have already come after her. More will come, trust me. That’s how these guys work. If they can’t get her themselves, they’ll hire an assassin who can.”
Gabriel looked unconvinced so Novak kept talking.
“I’ll keep you informed until you figure out what’s going down. I’ll send you her statement and anything else she knows about those guys. You can claim no knowledge that I took her. Tell them I sneaked her out, say you don’t know what the hell’s going on, but we need to get her out of here and somewhere they can’t find her. Nobody can get to her once I get her on my boat out in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. That’s what I’m planning on.”
Gabriel ran splayed fingers through his thick black hair, grumbled something under his breath, and stared down at Lori Garner’s face. “Is she going to be all right? She looks pretty bad.”
“Yeah. She’s in a lot of pain, so they gave her painkillers and sedated her. She won’t feel a thing on the ride down to the bayou.”
“Damn it, Novak. I’m going to lose my badge one of these days, because of you. If Claire and Nick didn’t vouch for you, you’d be on your way to a jail cell for assault right now. You put that man in a coma, for God’s sake.”
“He was murdering her, Gabe. So I reacted. I don’t care what happens to that guy. He’s probably the one who put out his cigarettes on her breasts.”
Gabriel stared silently at Lori’s bruised face. After that, he made his decision. “All right, damn it, Novak, let’s get her into that wheelchair. I’ll clear the way with my badge if the nurses give us trouble. And you better take my car. They’ve probably got a tail on that old truck of yours.”
“Now you’re talking, Gabe.”
“You want me to assign a man to go with you?”
“No, I can handle it. I’ve got a friend who’ll help me.”
“Just keep in touch and answer my calls, you hear me? I need to know where she is at all times so I can vouch to my chief that she’s safe and we can get her back here anytime we need her to testify or give her statement.”
Wrong, Novak thought. “Done. I’ll keep her comfortable and find out the details behind this thing and pass them along to you. That good enough?”
“I’m doing this because I do think they’ll get her if she stays here, even under police guard. Sounds like a mob hit to me. So let’s get going now while things are still quiet. They’re going to have my ass if you screw me over.”
“T
hat’s better than having a dead witness in your custody.”
Lori Garner did not even stir when Novak slid his arms under her body and lifted her gently off the bed. He sat her up in the wheelchair, grabbed a pillow for her arm, and covered her with a blanket. If Gabe hadn’t been there, Novak would’ve just carried her down the stairwell. It would have been faster and easier, but that would cause questions.
They made it fine down to the ER entrance with Gabe flashing his badge at any nurse who objected. A few argued with him, but the detective proved persuasive. He showed his credentials to the ER personnel and then walked outside to retrieve his car. When he drove up outside the entrance, Novak lifted Lori into the back seat, positioned her out flat, covered her, and settled her injured arm on a pillow. He wasn’t sure it mattered; the woman was feeling no pain. They exchanged vehicle keys, and Gabe gave him a last warning about keeping in touch and then went back inside. Novak drove around the parking lot until he saw Frank standing beside Novak’s truck.
“I’m taking her down there in this car. You got a rental you can use?”
“Yeah, that Toyota Camry over there.”
“Remember where I live?”
“I’ve been there enough times to drive that road in my sleep.”
“Follow me down now or find a motel room and get some sleep. You look too tired to drive anywhere. We’ll be okay alone at Bonne Terre till tomorrow.”
“I’ll try to make it in tonight. A few hours of sleep at the side of the road will help if I have to.”
“Just be careful they don’t follow you. I’m taking her out in the boat by noon tomorrow. Be there or you’re gonna get left behind.”
“What do you take me for?”
“Now is not the time to ask that, Frank.”
Novak slid up his window, drove to the Huey P. Long bridge over the Mississippi River, and headed west on Interstate 10 to US-90W, and they were on their way to Bonne Terre. Sixty miles down the road, he began to breathe easier. Nobody was following him, and Frank was not in sight. Novak wasn’t worried about his friend. Frank knew what he was doing. He’d make it down there before noon the next day. Novak only hoped he didn’t have a tail on him when he did show up.
Chapter 4
The drive to Bonne Terre took over an hour. Lori Garner slept in the back seat, limp-limbed and peaceful. The sun was a blinding blaze that flooded the car windows but didn’t faze her. Neither did she stir when Novak carried her into his house and settled her in a butler’s closet off the dining room that he’d made into a bedroom. He propped her on her side with pillows supporting her back, put another under her arm, and once she was settled, set the alarm system he’d installed.
Not so long ago, a different woman had recuperated in that same bed from horrific knife wounds. He had also brought Mariah Murray home in order to protect, but she had been murdered on his doorstep by a truly evil woman. He was guilt-ridden for allowing that to happen. His sister-in-law had been his responsibility, and now she was dead, lying outside his house near the empty graves of his family whose remains were dust in the rubble of 9/11. Lori Garner was not going to die on his watch. He would be more vigilant, and this time he knew her enemies would eventually show up. They could not linger long in the bayou. The vast waters of the Gulf of Mexico beckoned to him as a safe sanctuary, so that’s where they were going. Tonight, they needed rest, and he wanted to talk to Frank before he made any kind of move. He already knew this thing was bad and getting worse; he needed to know just how bad it was going to get.
His house had been closed up for a time because he preferred living aboard his sailboat to staying inside this giant mausoleum. It was fairly warm inside against the February chill but had that stuffy, mildewed odor of any ancient house that had stood undisturbed for over two centuries. He rarely opened windows or aired the place out, and he wouldn’t tonight. He was dead tired and still going strictly on adrenaline and caffeine at the moment. On top of that, he felt anxious about Frank’s whereabouts and wished he would show up or call. Novak wanted to know everything that had already gone down in this thing, from beginning to end. Otherwise, he was going to take himself out of the picture. It was a dangerous game they were playing, and Lori Garner hadn’t been particularly forthcoming. He was pretty sure there was a reason for her reticence. He was going to question her as soon as she awoke.
Novak walked down through the wide grand foyer to the back of the house where he had put in a large modern kitchen. His footsteps creaked on the original hardwood floor; the sound echoed slightly under the high ceiling hung with chandeliers that had been lit by candles at one time. He prepared a pot of coffee to help him stay awake, making it super strong, and then leaned back against his wide black granite bar and watched it brew. Before he shut his eyes, he wanted to do a search on the information he’d found on the cell phones he’d taken from the two dead guys who’d attacked his apartment. He had already disabled the GPS on those phones, so he was confident nobody had used them to track them to Bonne Terre. He poured a cup of the steaming coffee into a mug and sat down at his scarred farmhouse table. He opened his laptop and pulled up the law enforcement databases that Claire Morgan had downloaded for him. He had a feeling that wasn’t exactly legal, but it had earned its weight in gold more than once of late. He was pretty sure it would bear fruit now.
Fishing the phones and IDs out of his pocket, he keyed in the names. Then he scanned the first driver’s license picture and ran it through a facial recognition database. He picked up one of phones while the computer ticked through hundreds of felons, searching for a match. This phone was an old iPhone 5 and turned out a bust. No photos, no phone log, no history, all of which would have given him a wealth of info about the dead guy. Nothing gained but the basics on his driver’s license. The two other phones were cheap burners. One hadn’t been used long. It probably had belonged to a newbie, recently hired and unproven. The guy had been smart enough to leave his phone clean, though. Novak would give him that much, despite his ending up dead on his short career as a criminal.
Number three thug wasn’t so circumspect. Whoever this guy had been, he’d either been stupid or overconfident. It appeared he’d already earned his gangster stripes and had been the man calling the shots. He hadn’t been so good in that arena, either, since he was dead. The face on his Texas driver’s license got a hit almost at once. His name was Emilio Starka. He appeared to be a ladies’ man or at least thought he was. His machismo was readily apparent with all that gelled hair slicked straight back from his forehead and the wide, arrogant smile.
More concerning to Novak were the photographs of young women Starka had saved on his camera log. All of them looked prepubescent and all were posed suggestively wearing lingerie. All were much too young to be within a thousand miles of Starka’s camera. Most looked around thirteen or fourteen, which would jibe with Lucy Caloroso’s age. The idea of that sweet girl being held by a man like Starka turned Novak’s stomach. Lucy’s picture was not there, thank God. Some children appeared even younger, ten or eleven, maybe. Most of them were drugged, considering their empty eyes. A few looked terrified but had those same dull and confused eyes, pupils enormous. None appeared to have been beaten or injured, which was the only good thing Novak had seen yet.
These depraved perverts were peddling flesh, young innocent girls, but that would stop as soon as he got his hands on them. The sexy poses made his skin crawl. Angry, he pulled up Starka’s phone contacts and found all the calls deleted. But there was a treasure trove of text messages. Some included directions to safe houses where they obviously were stashing the girls. Unfortunately, the texts didn’t give the city involved, just the street addresses. All were probably quiet neighborhoods, the innocuous-looking houses acting as prisons for scared little girls. There was nothing lower in this world than what these guys were doing to children.
The knowledge made him more anxious to talk to Lori Garner. Maybe she had
been one of those girls at one time and was out to get her revenge. Maybe that’s why they wanted her dead. Once he had examined the phones, he forwarded the incriminating texts and Starka’s name to Gabriel LeFevres and told him they were safe at Bonne Terre without incident. That should be enough to keep the detective happy for the moment.
“What is this place?”
Novak jerked around, his hand on his weapon. He left it in the holster when he saw Lori Garner standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the doorjamb for support. She didn’t look well enough to be standing up and wary as hell. She still had on the same thin hospital gown but had pulled the white blanket from the hospital around her shoulders for warmth. She was barefoot.
“They sent a man after you at Charity, so I brought you down here. Do you remember anything that happened?”
“Where are we?” she asked again, looking around the kitchen.
“Deep in the bayous of Lafourche Parish. No way can those guys find us here, not for a while, anyway. I had to get you out of there fast, so I brought you to my place. You slept through everything.”
Lori frowned. “I don’t understand. The last thing I remember is those two guys bursting in on us at your apartment.”
She didn’t remember talking to him in her hospital room. It would be interesting to see if she told him the same story again. “You were shot and taken to the hospital. I called in the cops on the shooting, but whoever you have gunning for you aren’t giving up. How about telling me why?”
“The police let you bring me down here? Are we on the run?”
“No, I happened to know the detective in charge. I can be persuasive when I want to be. He trusts me, sort of.”
She eyed him for a moment, no doubt considering whether to believe him. Novak didn’t blame her. She should be wary. “They came after me again while I was in the hospital?”