recalled how defenseless he'd felt in front of the man.
Jeffrey returned to the bedroom and eyed the briefcase. Flipping open the latches, he lifted the lid and pushed aside Chris Everson's notes. He looked at the neat packets of hundred-dollar bills and found himself wishing that he'd stayed on the plane that afternoon. If he had, he'd now be well on his way to Rio and some sort of new life. Anything had to be better than what
he was going through now. The warm moments with Kelly, that great dinner, seemed to have happened to him in another life.
Glancing at his watch, Jeffrey noticed it was a little after eight. The last Pan Am shuttle was at nine-thirty. He could make it if he left soon.
He remembered how awful he'd felt on the plane that afternoon. Could he really go through with it? Jeffrey went back into the bathroom and again examined his inflamed ears and scratched nose. What else was a man like
Devlin capable of if they were locked in the same room day in, day out?
Jeffrey turned and went back to the briefcase. He closed the lid and locked it up. He was going to Brazil.
When Devlin left the Rhodes's house, he fully intended to follow his original plan of Italian food, followed by beers at the harbor. But when he got about three blocks away, intuition made him pull over to the side of the road. In his mind's eye, he replayed the conversation he'd had with the good doctor. From the moment Jeffrey had blamed the bank for not coming through with the money, Devlin knew he'd been lying. Now he started wondering why.
'Doctors!' Devlin said. 'They always think they're smarter than everybody else.'
Doing a U-turn, Devlin drove back the way he'd come and cruised by the
Rhodes's house, trying to decide how to proceed. About a block beyond it, he made a second U-turn and passed the house again. This time he slowed down. He found a parking place and pulled in.
The way he saw it, he had two choices. Either he could go back inside the
Rhodes's house and ask the doc why he was lying, or he could sit tight and wait awhile. He knew he'd put the, fear of God into the man. That had been his intention. Often people who felt guilty about something reacted to confrontation by hastily committing some telltale act. Devlin decided to wait Rhodes out. If nothing happened in an hour or so, then he'd go get some food and come back for a visit afterward.
Turning off the motor, Devlin scrunched down as best he could behind the steering wheel. He thought about Jeffrey Rhodes, wondering what the guy had been convicted of Mosconi hadn't told him that. To Devlin, Rhodes didn't seem like the criminal type, even the white-collar variety.
A few mosquitoes disturbed Devlin's reverie. After rolling up the windows, the temperature inside the car climbed. Devlin began to rethink his plans.
Just as he was about to start the car,
he saw movement at the far edge of the garage. 'Now what have we here?' he said, hunching low in his seat.
At first Devlin couldn't tell who it was, the Mr. or the Mrs. Then Jeffrey stepped around the edge of the garage, making a beeline for his car. He was carrying his briefcase, and he ran kind of hunched over, as if he didn't want to be seen by anyone inside the house.
'This is getting interesting,' Devlin whispered. If Devlin could prove
Jeffrey was trying to jump bail and caught him, and dragged him to jail, some big money would be coming his way.
Without closing the car door for fear that Carol might hear it, Jeffrey released the emergency brake and let the auto slip silently down the driveway and out into the street. Only then did he start the motor and drive off. He craned his neck for a view of the house for as long as he could, but
Carol never appeared. A block away he slammed the door properly and put on his seat belt. It had been easier to get away than he'd thought.
By the time Jeffrey got to the congested Lynn Way with its used-car lots and gaudy neon signs, he began to calm down. He was still somewhat shaky from Devlin's visit, but it was a relief to know that he would soon be putting the man and the threat of prison far behind him.
As he got closer to Logan International Airport, he began to feel the same misgivings he had had that morning. But all he had to do was touch his tender ears to rekindle his resolve. This time he was committed to following through, no matter his qualms, no matter how high his anxiety.
Jeffrey had a few minutes' leeway, so he went to the ticket counter to have the agent change his Rio de Janeiro ticket. He knew the shuttle ticket was still fine. As it turned out, the night flight to Rio was cheaper than the afternoon flight, and Jeffrey got a considerable refund.
Holding his ticket in his mouth, the suitcase in one hand, and the briefcase in the other, he hurried toward security. It had taken longer than he'd expected to exchange the ticket. That was one flight he didn't want to miss.
Jeffrey went directly to the X-ray machine and hoisted the suitcase onto the conveyor belt. He was about to do the same with his briefcase when someone grabbed his collar from behind.
'Going on vacation, Doctor?' Devlin asked with a wry smile. He snatched the airline ticket from Jeffrey's mouth.
Holding on to Jeffrey's collar with his left hand, Devlin
flipped open the ticket folder and read the destination. When he saw Rio de
Janeiro, he said 'Bingo!' with a broad smile. He could already see himself at one of the gaming tables in Vegas. He was in the money now.
Stuffing Jeffrey's ticket into his denim jacket pocket, Devlin reached around to his back pocket and pulled out his handcuffs. A few people who had backed up behind Jeffrey to get at the X-ray machine stood gawking in open- mouthed disbelief.
The familiar sight of handcuffs jolted Jeffrey from his paralysis. With a sudden, unexpected move, he swung his briefcase in a violent arc aimed at
Devlin. Devlin, concentrating on opening the handcuffs with his free hand, didn't see the blow coming.
The briefcase hit Devlin on the left temple, just above the ear, sending him crashing into the side of the X-ray machine. The handcuffs clattered to the floor.
The female attendant behind the X-ray machine screamed. A uniformed state police officer looked up from the sports page of the Herald. Jeffrey took off like a rabbit, sprinting back toward the terminal and ticket counters.
Devlin put a hand to his head, and it came away with blood on it.
For Jeffrey it was like broken-field running as he tried to skirt passengers, missing some, colliding into others. As he came to the junction of the concourse with the terminal proper, he glanced back at the security area. He could see Devlin pointing in his direction with the uniformed policeman at his side. Other people were looking in Jeffrey's direction as well, mainly those he'd run into.
In front of Jeffrey was an escalator bringing people up from the floor below. Jeffrey ran for it and charged down, pushing irate passengers out of his way along with their luggage. On the arrival floor below there was a crowd milling about, since several flights had recently landed. Worming his way through the newly arrived, Jeffrey skirted the baggage area as fast as he could and ran out through the electronic doors to the street.
Gasping for breath, he paused at the curb, trying to decide where to go next. He knew he had to get out of the airport immediately. The question was how. There were a few taxis lined up, but there was also a long line of people waiting for them. Jeffrey didn't have much time. He could run over to the parking garage and get his car, but something told him that would be a dead end. For starters, Devlin probably knew where it was. He'd probably trailed Jeffrey to the airport. How else would he have known where to find him?
As Jeffrey weighed his alternatives, the intraterminal bus came lumbering along the roadway. Without a second's hesitation, Jeffrey rushed into the street and stood directly in its path, flailing his arms wildly.
The bus screeched to a halt. The driver opened the door. As Jeffrey jumped on, the driver said, 'Man, you are either stupid or crazy and I hope it's stupid 'cause I'd hate to have a nut on board.' He shook his head in disbelief, put the bus in gear, and hit the gas pedal.
Steadying himself by clutching the overhead rack, Jeffrey stooped to get a look out the window. He caught sight of Devlin and the policeman threading their way through the crowds at the baggage carousel. Jeffrey couldn't
