Page 20 of Nothing Left

She was almost within reach of him when suddenly, Enzo took a sharp turn into a side corridor. Juliette followed him, but it was too late. When she rounded the corner, she saw that he had disappeared down a stairwell. He was pounding down the metal stairs, which headed to the airport's lower floor. And that, in turn, led out to a parking area outside, where taxicabs and shuttles were lined up.

As she'd guessed, he was abandoning his efforts at escaping on a plane. Instead, he was now hoping to escape the FBI by whatever means possible. And if she didn't get to him in time, Juliette feared that he might jump into a taxicab and do exactly that.

But now that they were in a less populated part of the airport, Wyatt was gaining ground. His long legs were shooting him ahead, and as Juliette pushed herself to her limits, she saw to her relief that Wyatt was closing the gap. He was gaining on Enzo.

Enzo looked back again, panicked. He veered from left to right, powering toward a taxicab that pulled off before he neared it and then changing his plans and racing for another.

But before he could get to it, Wyatt caught up. And he launched himself at the fleeing man in a classic tackle.

Enzo went down hard, the wind knocked out of him as Wyatt's body slammed into his. The two men sprawled on the concrete paving as horns honked from the road and passengers shouted out in concern. Enzo was fighting, kicking, and struggling, but Juliette knew from experience that Wyatt had got this. You didn't try to escape from her partner when he had you down. She moved in, ready to help, but there was no need. Wyatt had expertly pinned Enzo's hands behind him and had already gotten the cuffs on.

None too gently, he lifted him to his feet, holding tightly, breathing hard as Juliette grabbed their fugitive’s other arm.

Only then, with a clatter of feet, her laptop bag bouncing on her back, did Sierra trot tiredly up, looking flushed and winded after the exertion.

"Wow," she said to Juliette. "You guys do this all the time?" Her voice, though breathless, was incredulous.

Juliette was still trying to catch her breath, too.

"We try not to," she said. "It doesn't make for an easy life, that’s for sure. Now, let's find out why he was so hell-bent on trying to get away."

***

Ten minutes later, they were holed up in one of the airport's side offices.

Wyatt had gotten hold of a manager and requested a private room. It was going to be easier and quicker than driving to the police station at this late hour.

The manager had organized a table and four chairs. The three FBI team members faced the suspect, who was still sweating, and who now looked miserable, as if he regretted his life choices.

"Enzo Garcia," Juliette said. "Why did you run away from us? Explain why you did what you did?"

She spoke in Spanish, wanting to communicate in the language he would respond best to, but to her surprise he replied in strongly accented English.

"I didn't do anything wrong," Enzo said, his eyes darting around the room. "I was just trying to catch my flight."

"You weren't just trying to catch your flight," Wyatt said, leaning forward and speaking angrily. "You ran like a maniac when you saw us. You knocked over innocent people, and you trashed the airport in your efforts to get away from us. Then you left the premises and didn’t catch a plane at all. So, what is it that you're hiding?"

Enzo's gaze darted around the room. He looked like a trapped animal searching for a way out. Juliette could see the fear in his eyes.

“Take your time,” she said wryly. “We’ve got all night to sit here.”

Enzo looked down, his hands fidgeting with the cuffs, and then he looked back up at them, his face tight with emotion.

"No way," he said. "You police are such bullies! How can I reveal anything to you? I’m scared!"

"Because if you don't, you're going to be in even more trouble than you already are," Juliette threatened, playing on the fact he was frightened. "You already have serious charges lined up against you. You’re already in trouble. So one way or the other, you'd better say what you know."

There was a tense silence. Enzo took a deep, shaky breath.

"Please," he begged. "I will be in bigger trouble if I tell you. You will put me in danger. Already, I have had threats."

Juliette glanced at Wyatt, feeling suddenly more optimistic. Had Enzo been threatened? By whom? After this hard chase, were they now on the way to learning the identity of the killer?

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Enzo, you need to tell us the truth." Juliette made sure there was no room for compromise in her voice as she stared at the anguished-looking man, whose mouth was taut with tension. He needed to feel trapped and that there was no way of getting out of giving the answers. And she could see he was reaching that point.

"I can't," he whispered. "It's too dangerous." But now, she felt that he was capitulating. What he was begging for was reassurance.

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