Page 14 of Ten

“It suits you.” Eric stepped forward, and I hugged him tightly, giving his back a quick pat.

“It’s been forever since you’ve visited.” I stepped back and studied his face. The tension in his expression made me nervous. “What is it?”

“Something has happened.”

“My uncle?” My stomach dropped like a runaway elevator. “Has there been a shooting?”

“No, no, no.” Eric hurriedly clarified. “Nicky is fine. I mean, he’s up to no good with his business, but he’s fine.”

“Eric!”

“It’s Kiki,” he blurted out. “He escaped from his prison transport.”

“What?” Staggered, I took a sharp step backward and gripped my handbag. My fingers flexed, ready to snatch open the door of my Jeep and grab the P200 SK hidden away in my glove box. Normally, it was in my bag, but the restaurant didn’t allow weapons inside. “He’s a convicted murderer on death row, Eric! How the hell did he escape?”

“He’s sick, and his lawyer filed a bunch of motions until TDCJ agreed to have him moved from the Polunsky Unit to the prison hospital in Galveston for a workup.”

“And, again, he’s on death row! Who the fuck cares if he’s sick and suffers and dies in his prison cell? Not me! Not the families of the women he killed!”

“Nisha,” Erica interjected gently. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s the law. We can’t mistreat prisoners because they’re monsters.”

“Well, someone needs to change that law,” I stubbornly argued. “Look where it’s gotten us.” Another troubling thought hit me. “Did he kill someone to get free?”

Eric nodded somberly. “Two guards and a retired couple he carjacked.”

That ever-present tinnitus in my right ear seemed to grow louder. I was probably imagining it, but there it was all the same. “So far,” I corrected, holding Eric’s solemn gaze. “How close is he?”

“We don’t know,” Eric admitted. “He escaped right near Shepherd so he’s probably in Sam Houston National Forest.”

I snorted in disbelief. “He’s probably in Houston, trying to catch my scent so he can finish what he started in that bathroom back in San Antonio.”

“Maybe.” Eric seemed unable to agree to something so obviously bad for me.

“I assume he didn’t manage this alone. He’s not that smart, you know. He thinks he is. He really believes all the bullshit his mother told him when he was a kid, that he’s such a smart boy and so special. But, actually, he’s an idiot.”

“He definitely had help,” Eric confirmed.

“The lawyer? She came to see me today. Brought some idiot with a phone and GoPro to record the whole thing. We threw him out, but I let her talk to me in my office.”

“What did she want?”

“She was making threats about me being the real murderer. Something about a motive and new witnesses.” I rolled my eyes just thinking of her stupid spiel. “It was just horse shit.”

“Maybe.”

“Eric!”

“I didn’t mean you being innocent is a maybe! I meant her threats. Robin Harris has connections to some of those groups that work to free unjustly convicted inmates. She’s also very popular on the podcast true crime circuit.”

“The what now?”

“Podcasts. True crime. Amateur investigators. Robin made trouble in San Antonio before coming here. Kiki isn’t the only defendant she’s championing.”

“Well, considering how easily she’s been bamboozled by Kiki, I suspect her other clients are just as guilty.”

“She got one of them cleared of his charges and two others reduced sentences.”

“Oh, well that’s just great!”

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