Page 48 of Facing the Enemy
“Yes, ma’am.” He swiped at his eyes. “It seemed like the best way. You said fiction allowed writers to tell truth in a nonthreatening environment.”
Not sure I’d ever use that defense of fiction again. “Why run after you turned in the assignment? That makes no sense to me. If you were afraid for your family, why not go to your mother with what you’d witnessed and convince her to accompany you to the authorities?”
He paused as though thinking. “I told you—I didn’t know what to do. So I wrote the story and believed if I took off, then Ethan would come after me. I’d find a way to contact Mom and have her hide somewhere. I thought we could get to Mexico and head to South America. That’s really lame. Too many holes.”
My heart threatened to leap from my chest. I’d been trained to handle interviews, although my internal reactions made me feel like a rookie. I wanted to believe Carson, but he sounded like a psychopath who had no idea of his actions. I’d play along to garner his trust and maybe he’d slip.
“Why did the driver target me?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Have you seen the man with your stepdad since then?”
“A few. Always at night. I’ve never followed them since the one time.”
I stood on wobbly legs and took two steps to Carson. “I will never forget what you’ve done for me. You are the bravest young man I’ve ever met.”
“But will the truth get my mom and brother or us killed?”
I nodded at Gage and for the third time took refuge in the cool night air. I kicked the tires of a pickup parked close by. What should I believe?
26
GAGE
Carson phoned his parents and told them he’d been out of cell phone range and had decided to take the road trip by himself. He told them the breakup with his girlfriend had messed up his head. And he’d call Professor Jacobs right after talking to them. His fabrication about a change of plans sounded somewhat believable. Did he have a habit of lying?
Shortly before nine that night, the three of us went for burgers and fries, and Carson checked out of the motel with the flickeringMery hrimassign. I drove the Jeep, and Risa drove the Explorer to another motel with cleaner accommodations. She had Carson’s Sig under the driver’s seat just in case. I wanted Risa to have every opportunity to pry info out of him, yet I wanted her safe if he turned on her. His story was still out with the jury as far as I was concerned. After eating, we found an upgraded property that had adjoining rooms where I’d room with Carson. No way would he leave my sight.
We were all exhausted, but I had more work to do, not only with Carson’s claims about his stepdad but also the Addingtons’ kidnapping. My life reminded me of pancake syrup—spread too thin I accomplished nothing.
But I had Risa on the other side of the door. I almost told her about my inability to handle this time of year. I should, and if she and I moved ahead with our relationship, then I must.
Risa kept Carson company while I stepped outside to phone SAC Dunkin with the updates. “I’m driving Carson’s Jeep back to Houston in the morning, and Risa will drive the rental. That way, he may open up more or retract his story.”
“Do you think he’s responsible for the murder?”
“I don’t know. If we can find proof for his claims, we might need a safe house for his mom and brother.”
“I’ll arrange protection and accommodations if the kid’s testimony rings true, although his story sounds sketchy. Does he appear mentally competent?”
“Hard to tell. If Carson’s lying, he’s got it down to a science. What bothers me is he didn’t get the license plates of the Lexus. He alleged to have seen the car more than once, so why didn’t he get the numbers? On the other hand, what reason does he have to target Risa other than a paid hit, gang initiation, or he’s a psychopath?”
“We’ll evaluate him for psychoanalysis when you’re here.”
“For sure I’ll be in the office Tuesday morning. I’d also like to have Ethan Mercury brought in as a person of interest for questioning.”
“I’ll make sure he’s served.”
I thanked the SAC. “How is Jack?”
“Still in critical condition. The surgeon repaired the problem to his heart, found clogged arteries, and inserted two stents. His recovery depends on lots of rest. Currently we have guards posted 24-7 outside his room. I met his brother. They are a lot alike, and I thought there could only be one Jack Bradford.”
We shared a chuckle. “Any arrests made?” I said.
“A security cam captured a hooded person walking away from Jack’s apartment building. Slight build. I’ll send you the video.”
“Are you thinking one of the gang members or a woman?” I said.
