Page 33 of I Will Find You

“Say again?”

“I would have liked more time to plan,” Philip says, “but I meant what I said. If you stay here, no matter how hard I try to protect you, it won’t end well. We got to do this now.”

Adam takes off his uniform shirt and hands it to me. “I’m wearing the smallest size I have, but it’ll still be loose.” I take hold of the shirt. Adam undoes his belt.

“Here’s the plan in a nutshell,” Philip continues. “You set us up, David.”

“I did?”

“You came to me yesterday for the first time—that meeting is on file—and you said that you wanted to be rehabilitated for your crimes. Gave me a whole big sob story of how you wanted to make amends and confess and get real help.”

I slip off my hospital gown and throw Adam’s white T-shirt over my head. Then I shrug into the uniform. “Go on.”

“You begged me to bring your old pal Adam in to see you. That’s where you wanted to start—with someone who’d listen and still accept you. Because of my loyalty to my old friend—your father—I fell for it. It made sense to me. If anybody could pull you back from the abyss and get you to confess the truth, it was Adam.”

Adam hands me his pants. He is grinning.

“So I arranged a long visit today—just like I told the correctional officers out there. You and Adam were going to spend the day together.”

The pants are too long. I roll them up and create cuffs.

“What I didn’t know was that you had a gun.”

I frown. “A gun?”

“Yes. You pulled it on us. You made Adam undress and then you tied him up and locked him in the closet.”

Adam smiles. “And me being afraid of the dark.”

I return the smile, though now I remember that as a child Adam had a Snoopy night-light near his bed. It kept me up sometimes when I slept over. I would stare at Snoopy and not be able to close my eyes.

Funny the memories that stay with you.

“Then,” Philip continues, “you put on Adam’s uniform, including his trench coat and cap. You forced me at gunpoint to take you out of here.”

“How the hell did I get a gun?” I ask.

Philip shrugs. “It’s a prison. People smuggle in a lot of things.”

“Not guns, Philip. And I just spent the night in the infirmary surrounded by three guards. No one is going to buy that.”

“Good point,” Philip says. “Wait, hold up.” He opens his desk drawer and pulls out a Glock 19. “You took mine.”

“What?”

Philip opens his suit jacket to reveal an empty holster. “I had the gun on me. We were reminiscing. You started to cry. I foolishly moved to comfort you. You caught me off guard and grabbed my gun.”

“Is it loaded?”

“No, but…” Philip Mackenzie reaches into his drawer and draws out a box of ammunition. “It is now.”

This plan is insane. There are a dozen holes. Big holes. But I am being swept out to sea in the riptide. There is no time for second-guessing. This is my chance. I have to get out of here. If Philip and Adam end up facing consequences or making sacrifices, so be it. My son is alive and out there somewhere. Selfish or not, that trumps all.

“Okay, so what’s next?” I ask.

Adam is down to his underwear. I take a seat and slip on his socks and start on the shoes. Adam is two inches taller and while we used to be around the same weight, he probably has twenty or thirty pounds on me now. I tighten the belt to keep my pants from falling down. I throw on the trench coat, which helps.

“I had Adam wear his cap on the way in,” Philip says, tossing me the police hat. “That’ll cover your hair. Walk fast and keep your head down. We only pass one checkpoint on the way out to the parking lot. When we get to my car, you will order me—at gunpoint, of course—to drive to my house. Stupid me, I went to the bank yesterday and took out five thousand dollars in cash. I would have taken more but that would be too obvious.”

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