guardrail of the overpass.
“Do that again, and I’ll throw your ass off this bridge.” Frank drew his gun for emphasis, grabbed the man by his right arm, and held on tight. The man finally relaxed, closing his eyes in defeat.
Jack got to his feet, catching his breath. “You sure your friend is going to be able to hold this guy?”
“Yeah. Ben’s not just a good friend, he’s a military friend, tough. He doesn’t suffer fools like this.”
Without warning, the man opened his eyes, tore away from Frank, and leaped over the guardrail, falling feet- first to the rush-hour traffic below.
Jack realized that escape wasn’t his intention. He knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going, he timed it perfectly.
The fifteen-ton tractor-trailer never even locked up its brakes. The driver didn’t see the man falling into the path of his seventy-mile-an-hour truck until it was too late.
CHAPTER 6
Rider’s bridge was awash in emergency vehicles, while scores of people had gathered, lining the bridge rail, watching the search unfold. News trucks lay in wait at the bridge entrance, their cameras fixed on the arrival of an enormous crane. Two ropes were tied to and disappeared off the bridge edge, stretching down into the roiling waters below. A team of scuba divers held tight to the ropes, fighting the rushing current before slipping beneath the surface to continue their search.
A limousine arrived on the bridge, and all eyes turned. News cameras swarmed it. And what little noise was in the air fell away. All waited and watched. After three minutes, Sam Norris exited the rear of the car, accompanied by FBI director Lance Warren. The two tall men had always exuded power and leadership, but today they exuded only sorrow and pain.
They stared at the small numbered evidence markers along the roadway, the black skid marks that led to the missing guardrail. Without a word, they walked to the bridge edge, as everyone gave Mia’s father and Director Warren a wide, respectful birth. As Norris watched the activity below, he clenched his jaw, holding back his emotions. He knew what he would see. He knew it had been best to leave Pat at home; she was already inconsolable with grief.
Warren laid his hand on Norris’s shoulder. He had called him with the news, sparing his friend from learning about it from a newspaper or a cheery reporter on TV.
A man arrived at Warren’s side. Warren walked away with him so that Norris wouldn’t overhear.
“They found the vehicle.”
“But no bodies?” Warren asked.
“No, sir.” The man was young, efficient, and direct. “The dive team says with the heavy current, the search grid is large, it could take twelve or more hours.”
“What do we know on the bullet?”
“We don’t know yet. Everyone is working on possible scenarios.”
“How do we know they were in the car?”
“At least one airbag is deployed, the driver’s side. They don’t blow unless someone is in the seat.”
“Anyone think this was a hit? Because it’s looking that way, and if that’s the case… These were real good people, Sheldon.”
“I know, sir,” Sheldon said, nodding.
“If they were in the car, what are the chances they survived?”
Sheldon looked at Warren and shook his head.
Warren looked over at Norris, whose eyes were fixed on the dive team in the river. “Double our efforts.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Sheldon, Mia and I discussed an evidence case that had gone missing, a bureaucratic screw-up. Let’s be sure it was the bureaucracy and not something worse. Find out what cases she was working on. Hook up with Keeler’s office, find out what was going on with him. Call Deputy Director Tierney. I want him to handle this personally. If this was murder, I want the bastards found.”
Warren walked back over to Norris and looked out at the raging river. In unspoken understanding, the two men turned as if leaving a funeral. All eyes followed them. The press remained silent, microphones held down at their sides in respect. Warren held the door for his friend and got in behind him, and they drove away.
CHAPTER 7
If that guy preferred jumping off a bridge into a tractor-trailer, if that was the only alternative in his mind…” Frank said, but he never finished stating what Jack was already aware of.
“I know,” Jack said, more to himself than to Frank. They were back at his house, trying to regroup. With the death of the man on the bridge, they were thankful no one had seen them.
As much as the man’s suicide scared Jack, his fear for his children was far worse. He had lost the only link to them, the only link to Mia.
Standing in the foyer, he looked at the cell phone he had smashed in anger, wondering if he had destroyed a crucial piece of evidence that would have led him to her. He leaned down and picked up the blue bear. He remembered giving it to Hope last October. He had been working late on a racketeering case for weeks, spending most of his weekends in the office. He had missed them terribly but knew they missed him even more. When the trial finally ended in victory, he had stopped at the toy store and grabbed the blue and brown bears. After arriving home after ten to find Mia sound asleep, he crept into the girls’ room and sat in a desk chair watching over them. He had missed them as if he hadn’t seen them in months. Knowing that the next day would only bring more routine-school, work, dinner, bedtime-he had leaned over Hope and kissed her cheek, then quickly turned and kissed Sara.
The two girls had awoken, sleep dripping from their eyes until they saw their dad. They had leaped into his arms, holding tight so he couldn’t escape.
“Daddy,” Sara had said, “it’s the middle of the night.”
And Jack had held out the bears. They had snatched them up, hugging them close, but soon returned to hugging their father.
“Thank you,” Hope had said.
“I just want you to know I love you.”
“Is that what the bear’s for?”
Jack had nodded.
With a warm smile, he had picked them up, carried them downstairs, pulled out a box of Oreos, and poured three glasses of milk. They had headed into the den, cuddled up under a blanket, and watched Willy Wonka until four in the morning, when they all finally fell asleep. Needless to say, Mia hadn’t been happy when she found them at 6:15 but soon forgave them, allowing them to sleep, everybody taking the day off and spending it together.
And now, as Jack stared at the bear, the wellspring of his subconcious reopened, flooding his mind with images, thoughts, and sounds. But it was last night, early this morning… all of the pain, all of his emotions from twelve hours ago, building up. His life shattered, the rage and anger and fury filling him as Mia was torn away into the night; the wound in his shoulder once again sharp with pain; he was keenly aware of the cut above his eye. He felt the pounding of the rain on his face, his body soaked through and bloodied.
Then he finally burst through it, all of the pain gone, his mind clear, as if he had to travel through hell to venture into the recesses of his mind.
