In the living room, a man in his early thirties sat on a sofa chair that bled stuffing. He had a beer bottle between his legs, a cigarette in his hand and was watching men kick and punch each other on TV.
He turned and sneered.
Hello, Mason.
Mason was motionless.
The man had tattoos along his hands, his arm and collared around his neck, and a scowl creased his face.
Well, isnt this a surprise, Arlen?
Lamont told me to expect you.
He never said a word to me about you, or your friend.
Be careful, Mason. Young Brice theres my little brother.
Brice nodded, happily smiling his gap-toothed smile.
Dont mind him smiling all the time. Its all he does. He fell off a roof when he was six. Hes what you call a savant. Hes an expert at computers and shit like that, and hes got an incredible memory.
I like your baby. Brice smiled at Remy. Can I hold him?
No. Remy turned protectively with the baby.
Brice smiled and went to his room. When he opened the door across the hall from the living room, Remy saw that he had two laptops, a tablet and heaps of equipment with wires and cables on his desk. He likely played video games all day long while Arlen dealt drugs or stolen property, or some crap like that, she thought.
Before you move in here, Arlen said, theres the matter of paying me for agreeing to share. My fee is one large.
To hell with that, Mason said. I paid Lamont.
If I were you, Id reconsider your situation, son, seein what we both know about you.
Mason felt the heat of Remys what the hell did you get us into glare.
All right, Mason said. Well take care of it after we settle in.
Arlen stood. He was two inches taller and about twenty-five pounds heavier than Mason.
Well take care of it now.
Mason assessed the option of going into battle against Arlen. Under the circumstances the benefits were few. Still, Mason needed to be prepared.
All right, Arlen, let me go to my truck and get it.
You do that.
While Mason was gone, Arlens ice-cold eyes walked all over Remy as he dragged hard on his cigarette.
I hardly recognized you at first. You changed your hair. I like it. And I see you got your figure back after having that baby.
Remy said nothing.
You know, I kept my eye on you whenever you came to Hightower to visit Mason. And later when I was lying in my cot at night I could never understand what a fine woman like you saw in that loser. It hurt me because I thought about how right youd be for me. Now fate has brought us together. You gotta love that.
Remy said nothing. Caleb began fussing and she rocked him.
I would appreciate it if you wouldnt smoke in front of the baby.
Arlen took a long pull from his beer, keeping his eyes on Remy until Mason returned and gave him one thousand dollars in cash.
Lamont said youd be out of here in a week, Arlen said.
Ill do all I can to make it sooner than that.
Arlen downed the last of his beer, dragged on his cigarette and dropped the butt into the empty bottle.
Well give you the big bedroom. Its got its own bathroom, he said before removing his shirt, revealing a stunningly powerful build laced with prison artwork. Im going to take a shower. Just keep your baby quiet, respect our privacy and well all get along fine, like we did inside.
Arlen closed his door. Upon hearing it, Brice got up and closed his. When they were alone, Remy stepped outside with Mason as he unloaded the truck of their groceries and bags.
I dont like them, she said. Why did you bring us here, Mason?
We dont have a lot of options right now. We have to do all we can to stay off the grid, even if it means getting help from people I dont particularly like, or trust.
We cant stay here long.
Thats the plan, believe me.
After theyd settled into their room and Remy fixed a place for the baby, she bathed and fed him. Afterward she and Mason showered. Then she made them a spaghetti dinner and gave the baby a bottle. When she was finished she washed the linen, pillowcases, and all the towels shed stolen from the motel. They went outside to the backyard and, keeping their voices low, discussed calling the agency and arranging delivery.
Its time. We have to do this, Remy. We have to call and give him up.
I know, but its hard for me. She gazed at the baby in her arms.
And itll get harder the longer we wait.
Okay, okay. Tears rolled down her face and she turned to the house.
At that moment she heard an explosion of laughter coming from the living room where Arlen and Brice were playing a violent video game.
I pray to God that were safe here.
50
Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, Texas
The street was deserted as an eerie quiet fell over the neighborhood.
FBI Special Agent Phil Grogan scanned the front door of a ramshackle one-story house through high-powered binoculars.
The Dallas PD had established an outer perimeter, closing off the street, clearing the way for the Dallas FBIs SWAT team. The SWAT team was part of the Dallas Critical Incident Response Team-an FBI squad that also included crisis negotiators, bomb techs and evidence response agents.
Grogan saw movement as SWAT members clad in military armor quietly took cover points behind shrubs, parked vehicles and against corners of the house. Within moments, FBI sharpshooters settled into concealed, close-range locations and took aim at the doors and windows of the house.
From a secure vantage point behind the hood of a command post truck, among a clutch of other police vehicles down the street, Grogan and his partner, Nicole Quinn, watched the final stages of the setup.
This was the bureaus strongest investigative lead to date.
A lot of people had moved fast on it.
According to records based on a fingerprint collected at Unit 21 of the Tumbleweed Dreams Motel, the prime subject was a convicted offender paroled from the Texas prison system. After serving time in the Ellis Unit he was transferred to the Hightower Unit and finally the Clemens Unit before his release.
But Grogan and Quinn had been frustrated by the fact that their subjects parole records were not up to date due to two factors: his parole officer had recently passed away from a heart attack, and a fire in the regional office had destroyed some records. An emergency retrieval operation for all of the destroyed records was ongoing.
At the same time, Grogan and Quinn had run down the only other clear fingerprints obtained from the motel unit-those belonging to Arb and Ella Winston of San Antonio. The FBI in Arizona, working with the Tucson PD, confirmed that the Winstons, whod recently retired to Tucson, had not left the city for the past four weeks. They volunteered credit card records showing theyd been in the Dallas motel three months earlier while in the city to visit friends.
The investigators had cleared the older couple as potential suspects.
But when Grogan and Quinn showed photos of the ex-convict to motel manager Shelby Nix, he said the man was definitely familiar and definitely resembled the suspect in the sketches.
Based on these factors, and intel supplied by other law enforcement agencies, the FBI had obtained a warrant less than an hour ago on the subjects most recent address, setting in motion the procedure for arrest of a dangerous suspect.
Now, after FBI SWAT commander Steve Elling pulled his binoculars from his face, he made a number of whispered radio checks.
Everyone was ready. He nodded to agent Andre Kuper, the SWAT negotiator.
Make the call, Andre.
Kuper called the landline number for the address and after four rings, a woman answered. Only after Kuper pressed her did she identify herself as Monica Jefferies.
This is Special Agent Andre Kuper of the FBI. We have a warrant for the arrest of Samuel James Laster.
My brother? What? No, no, this is all wrong.
Muffled anguish passed between them.
Why are you doing this? Is this some kind of joke?
Maam, that will be explained to Mr. Laster. Right now, we request that Mr. Laster immediately come to the front door with his hands raised, palms forward, and proceed to the front lawn.
The request was met by a long silence, then sniffles.
My brothers dead, asshole, Jefferies said.
Sometimes family members say that, or lie in other ways to protect wanted relatives, Kuper thought. He repeated his request.
Maam, please confirm that you will respond.
This is crazy! Please, just go away!
How many people are in the house, maam?
Leave me alone! she sobbed.
Maam, I want you to take a deep breath, Kuper said. For your safety, could you please exit now through the front door with your hands outstretched, palms facing forward, and we can talk.
Monica Jefferies took a long moment to find a measure of composure, then she cooperated. The FBI took her to the command post while the SWAT team did a tactical room-by-room search of her home.
Distraught and trembling in the command-post truck, she angrily told investigators that her brother had died from lung cancer three weeks ago, six months after hed been paroled.
He was just getting his life on the right track.
Based on her new, unverified information, Grogan and Quinn, aided by the Dallas PD, made several urgent enquiries to various government offices and agencies. As they awaited responses, Monica Jefferies explained how her brother had lived in the Tumbleweed motel for about a week after he got a short-term job at a warehouse in the area.
Radios crackled with an update from the FBI SWAT team leader in the home.
The residence, garage and yard are clear. No one else here.
Not long after that, Quinn showed Grogan a text, confirming that Samuel James Laster was deceased. His death was not listed due to a computer malfunction, but it happened well before the storms hit Dallas and Caleb Cooper vanished.
Before apologizing to Monica Jefferies and releasing her, the two agents exchanged glances. They were back to square one.
51
Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, Texas
That morning as Kate walked from the Marriott City Center to the bureau in Bryan Tower, her phone vibrated with a text from Tommy Koop.
Somethings up on scanners with FBI SWAT on suspects. Where R U?
Her heart skipped.
Be there in 5. More details pls!
Danson near there now. Says it could be arrest. Stand by for address.
Kates thoughts raced.
Last night Dorothea had told her to report to the bureau about midmorning for her assignment. The Presidents visit was today, and the bureau was going big on it. Faced with a breaking story and her urge to jump on it, Kate texted Chuck and Dorothea.