in my stomach. This one would go over even worse. “It was better than my car, Liz. Every cop in Jacksonville was looking for mine!”
“Oh God, Henry . . . Just get your ass off the street. I don’t want to see you end up like Bonnie and Clyde. Go to a motel. Or a public space somewhere. Someplace you won’t have to show your ID. Let me talk to some people. I’ll be back with you soon as I can.”
“Liz . . .” I said, stammering, a tide of emotion finally welling up inside me. It had been a long time since we had talked to each other like this—in what you might call friendship, even trust. “I can’t tell you how much . . . Just thank you, Liz. You must know how much this means to me . . .”
“Twenty years, Henry . . .” Her voice seemed softer than I’d heard in years. “It’s not like we were enemies.”
“No, I guess you’re right. We weren’t.”
“But listen, Henry . . .”
I hunched over as a police car sped by, hoping to hear something soft and compassionate from her, maybe I’m sorry about the way things turned out. “Yes . . .”
“That car you’re driving makes you look like a killer. I would ditch it as soon as you can.”
Chapter Ten
S he was right. Mike’s Jag did make me look guilty.
Guiltier.
And it was only a matter of time before an APB was out on it as well. I had nowhere to go, but I had to get off the street until Liz could work a miracle. At least for a couple of hours. I had my iPad; that was one way to communicate. I just needed a safe place to hold out.
I flicked on the radio and found a news channel. It took no more than a minute to hear the news I dreaded come on:
“Our continuing story this morning is the execution-style slaying of a Jacksonville police officer off Lakeview Drive. Dr. Henry Steadman , a prominent South Florida surgeon . . .”
A sickening feeling filled up my belly, my hands on my head. I couldn’t believe I was actually hearing my name in connection with a homicide investigation! A double homicide. It was only a matter of time until Mike was discovered—and his missing car. Okay, Henry, think—is there anyone else you know here you can trust? Was there anyone here whom I could count on? Just to stay off the streets. For a short while. Who would believe me?
I thought of Richard Taylor, the head of the Doctors Without Borders conference who had invited me to speak tonight. But I didn’t want to involve him. I couldn’t ask that.
Then Jennifer came to mind. Miss Jacksonville. I could explain it all to her. I knew she’d see me for who I was. Not some crazy cop killer. I recalled that she was staying at a different hotel from mine. The Hyatt.
Hopefully she’d already made it to town and checked in.
I took Mike’s phone and punched in the number I had for her. I knew it was kind of a long shot, but that’s what we were playing now. It took a few seconds for her to answer, probably not recognizing the caller ID—Mike’s—but sure enough, after I heard her voice, a little tentatively perhaps, I felt better.
“This is Jennifer Keegan.”
“Jennifer—it’s Henry Steadman. Please don’t hang up. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but something crazy has happened.”
“I did hear!” Jennifer replied. She sounded surprised, but not upset that I was calling. “We’ve all heard, Dr. Steadman! What’s happened? They’re saying such incredible things . . .”
“Jennifer, I’ll explain . . . Just trust me—it’s not at all what you might think. I just need to be somewhere safe, for an hour or two, until I can negotiate something and get this whole crazy thing resolved. That’s all. Can I trust you, Jennifer? I know I have no business asking this, it’s just that . . . It’s just that, to be honest, I just don’t have anywhere else to turn.”
“You want to come here ?” she asked, clearly surprised.
“Just for an hour or two, that’s all! I have someone working on turning me over. I won’t
“Oh God, Henry . . . Just get your ass off the street. I don’t want to see you end up like Bonnie and Clyde. Go to a motel. Or a public space somewhere. Someplace you won’t have to show your ID. Let me talk to some people. I’ll be back with you soon as I can.”
“Liz . . .” I said, stammering, a tide of emotion finally welling up inside me. It had been a long time since we had talked to each other like this—in what you might call friendship, even trust. “I can’t tell you how much . . . Just thank you, Liz. You must know how much this means to me . . .”
“Twenty years, Henry . . .” Her voice seemed softer than I’d heard in years. “It’s not like we were enemies.”
“No, I guess you’re right. We weren’t.”
“But listen, Henry . . .”
I hunched over as a police car sped by, hoping to hear something soft and compassionate from her, maybe I’m sorry about the way things turned out. “Yes . . .”
“That car you’re driving makes you look like a killer. I would ditch it as soon as you can.”
Chapter Ten
S he was right. Mike’s Jag did make me look guilty.
Guiltier.
And it was only a matter of time before an APB was out on it as well. I had nowhere to go, but I had to get off the street until Liz could work a miracle. At least for a couple of hours. I had my iPad; that was one way to communicate. I just needed a safe place to hold out.
I flicked on the radio and found a news channel. It took no more than a minute to hear the news I dreaded come on:
“Our continuing story this morning is the execution-style slaying of a Jacksonville police officer off Lakeview Drive. Dr. Henry Steadman , a prominent South Florida surgeon . . .”
A sickening feeling filled up my belly, my hands on my head. I couldn’t believe I was actually hearing my name in connection with a homicide investigation! A double homicide. It was only a matter of time until Mike was discovered—and his missing car. Okay, Henry, think—is there anyone else you know here you can trust? Was there anyone here whom I could count on? Just to stay off the streets. For a short while. Who would believe me?
I thought of Richard Taylor, the head of the Doctors Without Borders conference who had invited me to speak tonight. But I didn’t want to involve him. I couldn’t ask that.
Then Jennifer came to mind. Miss Jacksonville. I could explain it all to her. I knew she’d see me for who I was. Not some crazy cop killer. I recalled that she was staying at a different hotel from mine. The Hyatt.
Hopefully she’d already made it to town and checked in.
I took Mike’s phone and punched in the number I had for her. I knew it was kind of a long shot, but that’s what we were playing now. It took a few seconds for her to answer, probably not recognizing the caller ID—Mike’s—but sure enough, after I heard her voice, a little tentatively perhaps, I felt better.
“This is Jennifer Keegan.”
“Jennifer—it’s Henry Steadman. Please don’t hang up. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but something crazy has happened.”
“I did hear!” Jennifer replied. She sounded surprised, but not upset that I was calling. “We’ve all heard, Dr. Steadman! What’s happened? They’re saying such incredible things . . .”
“Jennifer, I’ll explain . . . Just trust me—it’s not at all what you might think. I just need to be somewhere safe, for an hour or two, until I can negotiate something and get this whole crazy thing resolved. That’s all. Can I trust you, Jennifer? I know I have no business asking this, it’s just that . . . It’s just that, to be honest, I just don’t have anywhere else to turn.”
“You want to come here ?” she asked, clearly surprised.
“Just for an hour or two, that’s all! I have someone working on turning me over. I won’t
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