“Yes.”
“You told him where we were!”
“I had to—”
“Bullshit!” I let it go. I didn’t have time. A car could come by. “How many were there?”
“Two plus Milo.”
“Who? I want names.”
“Carl. David.”
“CIA?”
“Carl’s ex-CIA. David’s GVO.”
“Last names?”
“That’s all I know.”
“Dom saved Lucinda and Ethan?”
“Yes, he got them out—”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know. We’re looking for—”
“Where’s the dog?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see any video—”
“Did you call Milo before we left?”
“Yes.” Wiki’s terrified eyes shifted to the gun. “If you kill me, they’ll come looking. If I don’t show—”
“I’m not gonna shoot you unless you try and stop me. Stay here.” I scrambled up the muddy marsh and ran to the Tahoe. I jumped in the driver’s seat and started the ignition, but the big engine wouldn’t turn over. The Tahoe didn’t move.
Wiki started to get up, struggling to his feet.
I twisted the ignition again and again. Finally the engine came to life. I threw the Tahoe into reverse and hit the gas. The tires skidded, spraying mud.
The Tahoe lurched backward, stuck. Mud flew everywhere.
Wiki staggered toward me, clutching his hip.
I floored the gas pedal. The Tahoe shot backward in a shower of mud and water.
I slammed the Tahoe into drive, veered around, and hit the gas going north.
I glanced in the rearview mirror, spotting Wiki on the darkening road.
Chapter Fifty-Five
I raced north, breaking Wiki’s phone on the dashboard. I couldn’t risk being located via GPS. I was going back the way we had come. There was only the one street and I didn’t see any route sign.
I accelerated through the marsh. My grip tightened on the wheel. I tried to process what I knew. Dom had gotten Lucinda and Ethan out in time. Milo and the others didn’t know where they were.
My thoughts flew. I had to get to Lucinda and Ethan. To do that, I had to find Dom. If I knew him, he would protect them with his life. I trusted him, after everything.
I considered whether he would contact the FBI higher-ups. He didn’t know who he could trust. He’d worked undercover. He was used to relying on himself. I assumed he was on his own, with Lucinda and Ethan.
I thought about whether he would contact the state police, or whether I should. I doubted he would, for the same reason. The first thing the state police would do was contact the FBI.
I zoomed through the marsh. The sky darkened, blackening the pools of water flanking the road. I had no way to contact Dom. I didn’t have a phone and I couldn’t remember his number anyway. I doubted he left his phone still active. I assumed he was driving the van, but I didn’t remember the plate number. Not that it could’ve helped.
All I had to do was figure out where Dom would go. I racked my brain for what I knew about him. We’d run together a handful of times. He never revealed much about himself. I knew he had a wife and kids in Villanova. I would bet that his first thought had been for their safety. He would’ve told them to get out of town. Otherwise they were in jeopardy, because they couldn’t have been hard to find, and Milo would have used them as leverage.
I tried to think of anything he had said that could give me a clue about where he would go. I remembered something about Will Smith. Dom was West Philly born and raised. Maybe he would go back to his childhood home, but then I remembered something else.
Still, I loved that job. I felt useful.
Dom loved his Uncle Tig, who had owned a check-cashing agency. It seemed like a thought that had come to him during the run. The kind of detail he might not have mentioned otherwise. It was possible that the FBI didn’t know about that, or if they did, it was buried in some personnel file.
I wished I could look up the address but I didn’t have a phone. Then I remembered. Dom had mentioned the address.
Gibbons and Masterman.
I felt myself rally. Maybe Dom had gone back to West Philly. Maybe the check-cashing agency was still there. Maybe he would remember that he had told me about it. He could be hoping I would remember and know where to find them.
I straightened, filled with new purpose. I turned onto the street that led to the houses, and took a right, avoiding our street, just in case. I kept driving past the ritzy vacation houses. I was finally leaving the marsh. I knew where I was going.
I could see smaller houses up ahead and beyond was civilization. I lowered the window. The wind blew from the right. The bay beach was east. If I stayed straight, I would find the main road into town.
I found the road and approached town proper, but I could see cars slowing down ahead. It must’ve been an accident. I looked around for other routes, but I remembered there was only one way to the main road.
My chest tightened, thinking of Lucinda. How horrible it must have been for her, how terrified she must’ve been. I wondered if she had recognized Milo’s tattooed sleeves. We had never really talked about Milo. There were so many things we never talked about. I never once thought they would be in danger. I thought they were safe in the program.
I fed the car some gas, then had to brake again. Ethan must’ve been scared out of his mind. He would’ve remembered Milo. He would’ve thought he was going to die.
I accelerated, then stopped again. I couldn’t lose them, and nothing could happen to them. I glanced at the dashboard clock. I’d been stopped for fifteen minutes.
I tried to calm down, impatient.
I was losing my head start. I cursed, realizing that sooner or later Milo would come after me. I wouldn’t be hard to find, on the one route. I didn’t know how long it would take to clear the accident.
I switched on the radio to hear what was going on. A commercial came on for beer, then a weight-loss drug. Cars were beginning to pile up behind me. I scanned the row for a vehicle that Milo could be driving, like a black SUV. I didn’t see one.
Suddenly my ears pricked up at something on the radio. “Police are on the lookout for a Jason Bennett, a Caucasian male in his forties, height six three, average weight. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. He was last seen driving a black Tahoe, model year 2020.”
Me? I turned up the volume, appalled.
“Police believe Bennett may be responsible for the fatal shooting of an unidentified man found in the shallows under the Lenape River bridge. Local fishermen reportedly saw the vehicle stopped on the bridge. Police have established roadblocks on routes in and out of the marshland—”
Oh my God. It wasn’t an accident. It was a roadblock, looking for me.
The report ended, and I lowered the radio. I was guessing the unidentified man was Wiki. He had been alive when I left him and I hadn’t stopped on the bridge.
I shuddered. Milo must’ve killed Wiki, taken his body back to the bridge, and dropped him over the side. There had been a fishing boat in the river. Maybe the fisherman called the cops or Milo did anonymously, identifying the Tahoe.
I straightened to see the roadblock, but it was too far ahead. I had to get rid of the Tahoe.