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It was dark inside, and from the back seat she could see only the back of his head. “Hello.”
“I heard there was an accident with your friend. I came as soon as I could.”
“What do you care?”
They made eye contact in the rearview mirror, but she could see only his eyes. “Do you think it makes me happy when someone gets hurt in my factory?”
Elena didn’t answer, though she was taken aback to realize that she was talking to the owner of the factory.
“Listen to me,” he said. “I know it’s dangerous in there.”
“Then why don’t you fix it?”
“Because that’s the way it’s always been.”
“And you can’t do anything about it?”
“I can’t. But you can.”
“Me?”
“You can make things safer, at least for yourself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s very simple. This is a big factory. There are many jobs. Some are dangerous. Some are very dangerous. Some are not dangerous at all.”
“Seems to me that the women are always getting the most dangerous jobs.”
“Not all women. Some get the dangerous jobs, some get the not-so-dangerous jobs. It all depends.”
“On what?”
“On which part of your body you want to sacrifice.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Machine number eight should be up and ru
“What?”
He shrugged, as if it were none of his doing. “Or I suppose I could tell your foreman to assign it somebody else. It’s up to you.”
“What choice are you giving me?”
He turned partly around, as if to look at her, but his face was blocked by the headrest. He spoke in a low serious voice that chilled her. “Everything happens for a reason. No decision is meaningless. We all determine our own fate.”
“Like Beatriz?”
“Like you. And like hundreds of other girls much smarter than your friend.”
She could have smashed his face in, but an Eastern Bloc prison was no place for an eighteen-year-old girl from Cuba.
“Sleep on it,” he said. “But we need your answer.”
The foreman opened the door and pulled her out into the alley. A cold wind swept by her, stinging her cheeks. She stood in the darkness and watched as the car backed out of the alley.
She brushed away a tear that had frozen to her eyelash, but she felt only anger.
You pig, she thought as the car pulled away. How dare you hide your evil behind such twisted views of fate.
•
The lock clicked; a key was in the car door. Katrina cleared her mind of memories and sharpened her focus. The door opened, but the dome light didn’t come on. She’d taken care of that in advance to reduce the risk of detection.
Theo climbed inside and shut the door.
She was close enough to smell his cologne, even feel the heat from his body. Her pulse quickened as she rose on one knee. With a gloved hand, she guided the.22-caliber pistol toward the back of the headrest.
Theo inserted the key.
As the ignition fired she shoved the muzzle of her silencer against the base of his skull. “Don’t make a move.”
The engine hummed. His body stiffened. “Katrina?”
“Shut up. Don’t make this any worse than it already has to be.”
53
•
Jack went into the office as if it were a normal day. He was following the same advice he’d given countless clients living under the cloud of a grand-jury investigation: If you want to keep your sanity, keep your routine.
He was doing pretty well, until a certain hand-delivery turned his stomach.
It was a letter he’d expected but dreaded. As a prosecutor, he’d sent many of them, and he could have recited the language from memory. This letter is to inform you that you have been identified as a target of a grand jury investigation. A “target” means that there is substantial evidence to link you to a commission of a crime. Blah, blah, blah. Very truly yours, Be
Who in his right mind would keep that name around for three generations?
Line one rang, and then line two. Jack reached for the phone, then reconsidered. The target letter would surely push the media to another level of attack. He let his secretary answer. Screening calls was just one of the many ways in which Maria was worth her weight in gold.
He answered her on the intercom. “How bad is it?”
“I told Cha
“Thanks. I’ll take it.” With a push of the button Rick Thompson was on the line. Jack skipped the hello and said, “I presume you’re calling about the target letter.”
“Not exactly.”
“Theo didn’t get one?”
“I don’t know if he did or not. I can’t find him.”
“What?”
“We were supposed to meet in my office three hours ago. He didn’t show. I was wondering if you might know anything about that.” Rick’s words were i
“No, I don’t know anything about that,” said Jack, a little defensive.
“I called him at home, called him at work, tried his cell, and beeped him five times. Not a word back from him.”
“That’s weird.”
“I thought so, too. Which is why I’m calling you. I was serious about what I said last night at Rosa’s house. I appreciate Rosa bringing me into this case. But just because she’s my friend doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you and Theo any differently than another client and codefendant. If I’m Theo’s lawyer, I’m looking out for his best interest.”
“I don’t quibble with that one bit. All I’m saying is that if you can’t reach your client, it’s none of my doing.”
“Okay. I’m not making any accusations. It just concerns me that all of a sudden he seems to have dropped off the face of the earth.”
“That concerns me, too.”
“If you hear from him, tell him to call his lawyer.”
“Sure.”
As he said good-bye and hung up, his gaze settled on the target letter atop his desk. It had been upsetting enough for him, and he could only imagine how it might have hit a guy who’d spent four years on death row for a crime he didn’t commit.
Jack faced the window, looked out across the treetops, and found himself wondering: How big was the “if” in “if you hear from him”?
Jack turned back to his desk and speed-dialed Rosa. Her secretary put him straight through. It took only a moment to recount the conversation with Theo’s lawyer.
Rosa asked, “You don’t think he split, do you?”
“Theo? Heck, no. He doesn’t run from anything or anybody.”
“You really believe that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Why?”
“I represented him for four years.”
“That was for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“Are you saying he killed Jessie Merrill?”
“Not necessarily. Just that people naturally draw inferences when the accused makes a run for it.”
“Nobody said he’s ru
“Then where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You sure?”
He paused, not sure what she was asking. “Do you think I told him to run?”
“Of course not. But maybe Theo thinks you did.”
“You’re losing me.”
“The conversation you had at Tobacco Road is a perfect example. You told him that Jessie Merrill threatened you, and he took it upon himself to go threaten her right back. Maybe this is the same situation. You could have said something that made him come to the conclusion that you’d be better off if he just hit the highway.”
“I haven’t spoken to Theo since he and Rick Thompson walked out the front door of your house.”
“Then maybe his sudden disappearance has nothing to do with you at all. Maybe it’s all about what’s best for him.”
“Theo didn’t kill her. He wouldn’t. Especially not in my own house.”
“Think about it, Jack. What was the first thing you said to me when we talked about Jessie’s body in your house?”