Murder at The Blues Stop Page 16

  “How do I pull files from this thing? I can’t seem to find where to stick it.” I showed him the key chain with the cylinder, feeling like a total and complete idiot.

  Smiling, he removed the key ring from my fingers. “Simple.” In seconds, he put it into a slot in front. “It’ll pop up on your screen, and you should be able to bring up any saved files.”

  The computer flashed on the bottom to indicate it detected new hardware. “Thanks so much.”

  “What class is this for?” I must have intrigued the boy since he didn’t seem willing to stop our conversation as quickly as I’d intended.

  “Lit.” It was the first thing that came to mind. I hoped he didn’t feel the need to explore any further.

  “I have Professor Greene. How about you?”

  “Me too. Strange coincidence.” I didn’t want to appear rude, but I wanted to get in and out.

  “Maybe you’d like to join our study group?”

  “Hmmm?” I focused my attention on the screen. “Sure,” I mumbled.

  “We’re leaving in about ten minutes for coffee. If you have time, you could meet the group.”

  “Oh darn, I can’t do it today.” Save me from twenty-year-olds hitting on me. “Maybe I can come to your next session.”

  “Sure. We meet every Sunday afternoon right here in the library and work on the assignments for the week.”

  I nodded, still focusing my attention on the screen. He took the hint and went back to his own work while I examined the files.

  Shane had them organized by case name which made everything easy to access. I printed out the documents pertaining to the Marcos case and stuffed them into my backpack.

  Next, I keyed Shane’s secret email address into the gmail site and found a whole bunch of new messages. I ignored them all except the one from Garrett and the two from Vince Perry. I scanned Garrett’s message first, hoping he was on his way home. It took everything in me not to send a ‘HELP’ message back to him. Besides, by the time he got back, one way or another, it would probably be too late.

  With that depressing thought rattling around my brain, an unwanted sense of paranoia surfaced. Giving in to the sensation, I glanced around looking for any signs of trouble before clicking on the first message from Vince. Once again, the sense of trouble invaded my thoughts, and I checked out my surroundings. None of the students seemed to be paying attention to me. Instead, they focused on studying or flirting. Everything seemed as it should be. So why did I have this weird sensation inching up my spine?

  Just as I was about to read through the email, I spotted them. O’Brien, along with another guy I didn’t recognize, trolled the perimeter. My stomach went into freefall.

  And then I spotted Stu, and my vision began to blur as I considered options for escape. They’d tracked us somehow. O’Brien and Stu showing up at the University of Wisconsin simultaneously meant more trouble than I could even contemplate right now. Cops were like mice—if there were one or two, there were more waiting in the wings.

  I pushed all thoughts of worry to the side and focused on getting out of there. If I got arrested, I had no doubt that Shane would be dead. Which meant I had to keep my wits and get the hell out of this place and back to Shane.

  I pulled the bill of the baseball cap lower on my head, and appreciated my foresight in wearing the Wisconsin red t-shirt and jeans. Half of the students around me wore some form of the same thing, allowing me to blend in.

  Even though I had yet to print out the two new emails from Vince Perry, let alone read them, I couldn’t stick around. Instead, I pulled out the flash drive, then scanned the interior for O’Brien and the other guy.

  I found them on each side of the pillars bordering the interior space. Drawing in a breath, I tried to remain calm as they walked through the aisles. Although they were doing a good job of making it appear they were searching for book titles, they were looking for me and Shane. If I hadn’t been paying attention, more than likely they would have blended in with the students because they were wearing t-shirts and jeans. The difference was, over their t-shirts they wore jackets. No doubt to cover a gun. I’d worry about how they figured out where we were later. For now, I needed to get the hell out of there.

  As slowly and casually as I could, I moved toward the shelves of books while I considered an escape plan. I observed as Stu unfolded a piece of paper and thrust it before the librarian. When the woman shook her head, he unclipped a shield off the waistband of his pants and showed it to her, as if that might change her mind.

  A cop? This was even worse than I’d thought. Being a cop gave Stu permission to shoot first and ask questions later.

  The librarian shook her head but then called over another woman. It had to be pictures. Maybe pictures of Shane. Maybe of me.

  Breathe.

  Think.

  Above all, don’t panic.

  Quickly, I ticked off the options in my head. First, I needed to put as much distance as possible between me and the computer station. Confident they would start circulating a picture of both Shane and I, getting out before they started questioning the students should be my top priority.

  If I went over to where the two policemen had already searched and engrossed myself in some impromptu research to lay low, I might not get noticed until I had the opportunity to slip away. Or I could inch my way out the front door, which felt even more tempting. Except they had to have somebody stationed on the outside of the door. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to be as far away from this place as feasible.

  Just as I was about to crawl out of my skin worrying about what to do, I spotted the flirty guy that had helped me with my computer walking with a group of students and moving toward the door. They must be headed to that coffee shop to discuss lit class.

  Plan B had magically appeared. I would attract the least attention in a group.

  Hooking my hand onto his arm, I said, “I changed my mind. I’ll join you for coffee after all.” I turned my head so that it was as close to this guy’s shoulder as possible, obscuring my face.

  “Nick.” He had a big smile on his face when he spoke.

  “Tasha,” I replied, scanning the scene outside for more police. Just as I’d suspected, another officer had been stationed outside. While I’d never seen him before, his appearance and mannerisms definitely said cop.

  Sticking with the crowd, I followed where they led and tried to avoid attention from others in the group. The last thing I needed was for one of the students to ask questions about classes or professors. I didn’t want to throw out any red flags before I could get away. At some point I’d break away, but timing would be crucial.

  Somehow the bad guys had figured out where we were. I had no idea how but that didn’t matter right now.

  But if they were focused on the campus, they probably weren’t scoping out the motels in the area, which meant that, for the time being, Shane was safe. At least I hoped so.

  Despite the circumstances, I tried to remain calm. The college students around me seemed oblivious to my doesn’t-belong-here status, although I couldn’t say how long that might last. That was the least of my worries for now.

  While I followed along with the crowd, I joined in their discussion when I could. Once upon a time, I attended college even if I might be a little rusty. “That lit paper is going to be brutal, isn’t it?” I chimed in as the group walked.

  One of the guys responded, “I hear Professor Greene takes off if you don’t have the bibliography formatted properly.”

  Holding my breath, I continued to walk with the group, hoping against hope no one would make me as an imposter. Anxious to blend in, I followed the crowd, stopping for coffee, and taking it with me to the grassy area between the buildings. We sat in a circle sipping and talking about projects we had to do while my mind was preoccupied with how quickly I could get back to Shane without being noticed.

  Nick introduced me to the group, and I volunteered to do research for the Chapter Two quiz. Fran
kly, at this point I would have agreed to anything as my mind buzzed with the overwhelming need to get out of there as quickly as possible.

  Just as I calculated my odds of making a quick getaway, Stu came around the corner of the building, heading straight for where we sat. He scanned the general area, then put a set of binoculars to his eyes and looked again. The other two guys stood along the sidewalk doing their best to blend in. Given their out-of-the-norm posturing in this laid-back college crowd, identifying them as cops was easy.

  More anxious than I cared to think about, I kept my head down. “I need to leave,” I mumbled incoherently as overwhelming fear nearly robbed me of breath.

  “We’re not—”

  Nick didn’t get to finish his statement before I stood and sprinted across the grassy triangle, unable to sit there one second longer. Waiting would surely have resulted in certain death. Besides, my worry quotient about Shane had hit ten. I did the only thing I could—made a run for it.

  I couldn’t say how long it took before the cops figured it out because I kept running and didn’t stop to look behind me. In all the horror movies, the heroine always makes the mistake of looking back. That’s how she would inevitably get nabbed by the bad guy. I wasn’t about to fall into that trap.

  Instead, I kept running. Even when I could hear shouts coming from behind demanding I stop, I kept going. Unlike my sister Juliana, I’d never been a track star. But given the right motivation, I could run like the wind.

  I figured there were too many people around for them to shoot. If a stray bullet hit one of the students, there’d be messiness and a whole lot of questions they wouldn’t want to answer.

  I kept running, trying to find a populated area in which I could get lost. Luckily, given the nice weather and a lazy Sunday afternoon, students filled the area, strolling around in groups or in pairs. While running prevented me from blending in completely, I might circumvent any show of force for the time being. Most criminals and/or bad cops don’t like witnesses.

  Adrenaline kept me moving, but I needed a destination. Going back to the motel while they were trailing me would be trouble for both of us. But I also couldn’t continue running indefinitely.

  Then I spotted a bus station with at least twenty buses lined up and ready to go. Without a second of hesitation, I sprinted toward the tangle of students and waiting buses. The first bus in line had just closed its doors when I ran around to the front and pounded.

  Even though irate, the driver stopped to allow me inside. “There’s another bus in ten minutes going the same direction,” he grumbled.

  Spent and out of breath, I managed to mumble, “Thanks,” as the driver started to pull into traffic.

  I slunk down in a seat and peered out the window. Stu was scanning the buses with his binoculars while O’Brien and the other two guys searched the crowd. One of them flashed a badge and got onto one of the buses.

  For the first time in what seemed like forever, I drew in a deep breath. As far as I could tell, they had no clue which bus I had gotten on.

  After a circuitous route through the city and several bus transfers later, I retrieved the car and headed back to the motel. Every time I even contemplated the fact Shane might have been discovered during my absence, alone and vulnerable, a shiver of fear nearly paralyzed me. My heart seemed to be beating at the back of my throat instead of my chest where it belonged as I sprinted to the room. We couldn’t get out of town fast enough.

  “Shane!” I barreled inside. “We need to get out—”

  My words stopped when I tripped over the body sprawled across the floor.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Through some kind of miracle, I held back the scream even though it clawed like an angry cat at the base of my throat. After my mind registered that the body I’d tripped over wasn’t Shane, I glanced around the room and found him sitting with his back propped against the wall and his gun trained on the guy lying on the floor.

  “We need to tie him up and gag him to give us time.” Shane looked exhausted, as if whatever had transpired in my absence—considering the disastrous state of the room it must have been quite a bit—had drained every ounce of energy from him.

  Instead of asking questions, I continued the job he’d started, tearing the sheet into strips and tying the arms and legs of the beefy guy lying on the floor. The weird part was I didn’t even have to think about complying. I’d somehow morphed into Bonnie of Bonnie and Clyde, part blues singer, part criminal, without even batting an eye.

  Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have imagined tying up anybody—at least against their will—and under these circumstances. If I thought about it too long, it would creep me out.

  Shane got up and made his way into the bathroom. He looked deathly pale beneath the bruises. I had to give some serious thought once again to having him checked out medically, despite his wishes to the contrary.

  Then again, maybe he was stronger than he appeared since he’d managed to subdue the oaf of a man lying on the floor. The guy wasn’t dead—I’d felt his pulse—but he was out cold.

  Shane emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, his head and chest glistening with water as if he’d taken off his shirt and put his head under the faucet. “Do you have anything else for me to wear?”

  I scurried to the bag on the floor, pulling out a t-shirt and flannel shirt. He grabbed them and walked toward the window, looking outside as he slipped on the t-shirt.

  “Wait a minute.” Despite all the bruises and contusions on his face and chest, I hadn’t thought to check out his back. Just before he pulled on the t-shirt, I’d spotted a deep cut below his right shoulder. I walked over and yanked up the shirt. “You have a nasty cut on your back I didn’t notice before.” The area around the wound was red and raised with pus oozing out and streaks of red branching off of it. “You have an infection.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He opened the door slowly, peering into the parking lot.

  I snatched the bag filled with our meager belongings and followed right behind, peeking over his shoulder. “You need antibiotics, or you’re going to get really sick.” Maybe die. The warning stayed on the tip of my tongue unspoken.

  Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand, pulling me outside. “What took you so long?”

  “They came into the library, and I had to take several buses to lose them. Then I circled back to get the car.”

  He stopped and grabbed my arm, scrutinizing me from head to toe before speaking. “Who came into the library?”

  “O’Brien and a couple other cops, including Stu. I don’t understand how they found us. We don’t have our phones.”

  “Shit. It’s my damn car.” He shook his head and swore. “It stands out, even though we changed the license plates. They probably called hotels looking for a black Porsche.”

  Despite his show of strength, I knew he must feel awful when he slipped inside the passenger door rather than the driver’s. “Where should we go?”

  “It feels like they’ll find us no matter where we end up.”

  I couldn’t agree more. “Then let’s go straight back to where we came from. They can’t expect that.” The thought had come to me like a light bulb moment. Since they probably expected us to run farther and farther away, why not do the exact opposite?

  “Sounds like as good a plan as any.” He drew in a long, deep breath and readjusted the gun in his lap. “You know how to shoot a gun?”

  “My brother taught me the basics. I wouldn’t trust my aim, but I’m not going to shoot myself or you by mistake, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Good enough. I hope it doesn’t come to that.” He readjusted himself in the seat as if trying to find a comfortable position. “What did you get at the library?”

  “Most of what you told me to. There were a couple of emails from Vince but I didn’t get a chance to read them or print them out since that’s when I spotted the cops. I shoved what I had into my backpack and ran.” I headed onto the
highway, feeling more than a little guilty I hadn’t gotten to those two emails from Vince.

  When he reached in back to retrieve my backpack, he winced, reminding me we had to do something about his back. “Did you see any emails from H. Mann?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t looking for that name. Who is it?”

  “I didn’t think of it until after you left. It’s the first client Garrett and I worked with Vince on. He always said if he was worried about anything, he’d send it under that name from a remote location.”

  “I can’t remember.” I searched for a snippet of memory, but when I couldn’t seem to focus, I returned to the present. “I need to put some antibiotic cream on your shoulder. I’m pretty sure I have some in the bag.”

  “Let’s get a little farther down the highway.” He began to examine the papers as best he could, spreading them out on his lap.

  I didn’t want to stop either. The farther away the better. My heartbeat hadn’t slowed down since my close encounter in the library and the subsequent chase through campus.

  “Have you ever seen that guy I tied up in the hotel room?” As I asked the question, I swallowed back the fear that stole through my body. Being that close to somebody who wanted to kill us brought a whole other level of scary to the equation.

  Shane shook his head. “Nope. Could be a cop. Or could be a hired thug.”

  “What happened?” I tried to process the events in logical sequence to help me make sense of it. How many men were looking for us in Madison? Had they put two and two together and figured we’d need to use the Internet which is why they zoned in on the library? Were there more men that had been canvassing hotels in the area?

  “They had to use traffic cams to find the car and then went from motel to motel in town talking to the managers, giving them a picture or description of us. That’s the only thing that makes any sense. The manager must have remembered you.” He glanced through a few more papers and shook his head. “I heard somebody outside the door. We struggled. Luckily, I ended up on the good end of that deal.”