AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t thank meyet,” Parker warned. “The clock is ticking. I suggest you get a move on.”
Then she hung up.Jessie didn’t mind the abruptness this time. They were going to need everysecond. She had just over two hours to decide if they had a serial killer incustody or if the person poisoning all these women was still out there.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Hank Costabile didhis best not to grin.
After weeks offrustration, after endless hiccups, it was finally time. He was going afterJessie Hunt. The moment for action was only seconds away but he made sure thathis outward appearance gave no hint of that.
As he sat on abench outside the Hollywood/Vine Red Line Metro Station, he looked casually athis phone. To anyone walking by, it appeared that he might simply be perusing anews story or checking sports scores. But in fact, he was actually reconfirmingthe details of the Metro trains. For his plan to work, he had to get thisexactly right.
Hank glanced upfor a moment to check on the location of his minders. The two plainclothesofficers assigned to follow him by police chief Decker were sitting in theirgray sedan, parked in front of a palm tree beside the famous Hollywood Walk ofFame sidewalk lined with the names of luminaries past and present. Hank hadpassed by them earlier and saw that they were right next to the star for ReeseWitherspoon.
They made noattempt to hide themselves. It was a silly game they all played. He knew theywere watching him, and they knew he knew. When he'd parked his car in anadjoining public lot, they'd idled just outside the gate, waiting to see wherehe would go next. When he crossed the street to get a burger nearby, theypulled into their current spot. He had lulled them into a sense of complacency.They had no idea what was coming next.
He’d followed thisroute before on several occasions, just to make himself comfortable, but he’dalways done it in a relaxed ambling manner that suggested to his police tailthat he was simply enjoying the pleasures of Hollywood. In truth, he waschecking the departure times of the trains, making sure they matched thereal-time analysis of an app that proudly claimed “99.2% Metro time accuracy-for better commuting!” In his personal experience, the site had been accuratewithin ten seconds for each route he’d tested. He hoped that didn’t changetoday.
The clock on hisphone turned over from 3:26 to 3:27. Hank stood up, nonchalantly balling up thewrapper for his burger and tossing it in a trash bin, before heading over tothe giant escalator that led down to the bowels of the Metro station. At thelast moment, he veered slightly left and chose the stairs instead. He took thefirst few steps at a normal pace.
Only when he knewthat he was far enough down the stairs that the officers watching him couldn’tsee the top of his head anymore, did he suddenly pick up the pace. He darteddown the steps as quickly as he could, well aware that the officer in thepassenger seat of the sedan, who he knew to be a four-year vet of the forcenamed Carrera, would have gotten out of the car by now and have made his waytoward the escalators.
Once OfficerCarrera reached the top of the stairs, looked down, and saw that Hank wasalready out of sight, he’d know something was wrong. He’d understand that Hankcould only have made it down the stairs that fast if he’d been rushing. Andonce Officer Carrera knew Hank was rushing, he’d realize that the situation hadchanged.
That’s why, onceHank got to the bottom of the stairs, he broke into a full run. He rounded thecorner to the right, sprinted down the long hallway, and then curled left tothe turnstiles leading to the platform.
He already had hisphone out and swiped it in front of the sensor, waiting the half-second for itto register. The last thing he needed was to jump the turnstile and face offwith some chesty security guard intent on giving him a hard time. He wasn’t worriedabout losing a physical altercation. He just couldn’t spare the extra seconds.
Once through theturnstile, he dashed down the stairs to the platform, looking arounddesperately for Willie. Sure enough, the homeless man was exactly where Hankhad instructed him to wait, sitting on the wooden bench halfway along theplatform behind a pillar. Hank hurried over to him.
As he approachedthe man, the eastbound train pulled into the station. Hank looked down at hisphone. The train was only four seconds late, almost exactly matching the app.While he walked, he took off his green jacket, which he’d intentionally worntoday for its boldness, and shoved it into a nearby trash can.
Willie saw him andimmediately took off the blue Dodgers cap he was wearing and handed it to Hank,along with a windbreaker and a small backpack that had been sitting on his lap.Hank handed over five $20 bills, the second half of the payment he’d promisedWillie when he first made the deal with him earlier this week.
“Thanks, Willie,”Hank muttered quietly as he slid the cap onto his bald head. “A guy should becoming down the stairs in the next few seconds. He has black curly hair and iswearing a brown leather jacket over a blue dress shirt.”
“Got it,” Williesaid.
Next to them, thetrain came to stop. People began filing out while others waited patiently fortheir chance to get on.
“Remember he’s acop—don’t touch him or try to physically stop him,” Hank warned as he put onthe blue windbreaker. “Just get in his path and start acting like you know him.Once he gets by you, let him go. Don’t make your move for a few seconds. Afteryou do, the rest should fall into place from there.”
Willie nodded andheaded back in the direction of the platform stairs. As he did, the westboundtrain arrived at the station, just as it was supposed to. Hank flung thebackpack over his shoulder and headed to the open doors of the eastbound train.He fought the urge to look back toward the stairs. By now, Officer Carrerawould likely be at the top of them, trying to locate him. Glancing in thatdirection might give him away.
Once onboard thetrain, he moved to a spot where he could look out the window without beingseen. At that moment, the doors to the westbound train opened. As far asOfficer Carrera would know, the man he was after could have hopped on eitherone.
The stairs werebarely in view from his position, but he could make out Willie as he scurriedup. At the halfway point, the man stopped and seemed to talk to someone, movinghis hands animatedly. A second later, Officer Carrera came into view, lookingalarmed at how agitated Willie was, even as he tried to survey the platform forhis target.
Hank looked downat his phone again. According to the app, the eastbound train was supposed topull out in twenty seconds. That meant the door would surely close in the nextfive to ten. Officer Carrera, only briefly deterred by Willie, brushed by theman and hurried to the bottom of the stairs.
Hank knew exactlywhat the man was thinking. Should I get on this train or the westbound one?Or is Costabile hiding behind a pillar here on the platform, ready to leavethis station once the train I get on pulls away. Then he seemed to decide,stepping toward the doors of Hank’s train, which somehow still hadn’t closed!
But a momentlater, Hank saw Willie tap him on the shoulder. Officer Carrera whirled around,pulling his weapon from his holster at lightning speed. Just then, the traindoors hissed and slammed shut.
The last thingHank saw as the train started to pull away was Willie with his hands in the airand a smile on his face. He'd followed the plan perfectly. Now, the man onlyhad one more thing to do. Hank hoped that even with no more money on the line,he'd complete his final task.
Hank retreated toan empty seat and immediately unzipped the backpack, pulling out a purpleLakers cap and a cheap black rain poncho. He took off the windbreaker and theDodger cap, stuffed them in the backpack, and changed into the new items.
Then he opened thesmaller, front pocket of the backpack, the one with the secret, padded pouchthat had led him to purchase this pack in the first place. He pulled theswitchblade out of the pouch and slid it into his pocket.
