AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Likely? Try certain.
But be real: he hasn’t the resources to mount that kind of an investigation, and if he did, he’d draw attention to himself and they—KBI, the newspapers—would shut him down. They have their story, complete with gosh-wow dream information; no one would believe his. Take your pension and shut up, they’d say. You’re lucky we let you have one after what you did.
Which left what? Where was justice for poor Miss Yvonne? Who would be her advocate?
That, too, seems perfectly clear to Jalbert.
He will have to take care of Danny Coughlin himself. This very night. Tomorrow morning the hospital where Coughlin is currently recuperating will fill with people, but in the small hours ahead it will be at its lowest ebb. Coughlin isn’t being guarded; why would he be, when the blind idiots at KBI think poor Miss Yvonne’s killer is handcuffed to his own hospital bed in Wyoming? Coughlin is the psychic hero!
At home, Jalbert dresses in jeans and his black suit coat, the one he always wore when he was on the job. He puts his badge on his belt, technically against the law now that he’s retired, but it will help him get in if any late shift person asks questions.
To this he adds his service weapon.
64
At quarter of two in the morning, Charles Beeson, an orderly on the third floor of Regional Hospital, is playing Fruit Ninja on his phone.
“Chuck? Chuck!”
He turns and is startled to see Danny Coughlin limping toward him. Danny’s johnny flaps around his knees. He’s barefoot. One hand is pressed against his abdomen. Tears are running down his cheeks. They are tears of pain, but they are also tears of horror.
“Mr. Coughlin, you’re not supposed to get out of bed until the doctor gives you permiss—”
“My phone,” Danny says. He’s hoarse, panting. “It’s in my drawer, but the battery’s dead. Please, I have to charge it up. I have to make a call.”
The pain wasn’t bad when he fell asleep, but walking down the hall has awakened it. He grimaces and almost falls. Chuck gets an arm around him, but that’s not good enough. He hoists Danny into his arms and carries him back to his room. Once he’s in bed, Chuck holds out his own phone. “Here. If it’s important, use mine.”
Danny shakes his head. His hair is sticking to his forehead. Sweat runs down his cheeks. “I need my contacts. I put her number in my contacts. Even two per cent will be enough. I have to make that call.”
65
While Danny’s phone is on a charger in the nurses’ station, Jalbert is on Route 56, heading for Great Bend. The Interstate would be shorter, but he’s less likely to run into the Highway Patrol on 56 and he’s running hot. According to his GPS, the trip from Lawrence should take about three and a half hours if he kept to the speed limit, but with the highway almost completely deserted at this small hour, he’s doing 85. It was almost twelve-thirty in the morning before he got rolling. He expects to be there by 3 AM at the latest. 150 minutes, which is 1 to 17 when added sequentially. With three left over, of course, but who is counting?
It’s vital that he should give Coughlin the justice he will otherwise escape; nothing must stand in his way. It will be his ultimate sacrifice, to save all the girls and women Coughlin might otherwise encounter.
The burner he used to call Andersson is in the center console of his car. He pre-programmed the number for the Great Bend Police Department before he left home for what will be the last time. He makes the call at 2:15 AM, never taking his eyes off the cone of his headlights. He doesn’t have the voice-altering device he used with Andersson, so when the night dispatcher answers—“Great Bend Police, how may I help?”—Jalbert just makes his voice a little higher. He hopes he sounds like an adolescent, but it doesn’t really matter; they will respond. On calls like this they must respond.
“There’s going to be an explosion at the high school. A big one. It’s going to happen around the time the kids start arriving.” And then, it just pops out: “Three.”
“Sir, where are you calling fr—”
“Three bombs,” he says, improvising on the fly. “Three. They want to take out the whole school.”
“Sir—”
Jalbert ends the call. He throws the phone out the driver’s side window without slowing down. They may find the phone and if they do, they’ll find his prints when they dust it, but it doesn’t matter. He won’t be coming back from this, and that will be a relief.
66
When Chuck the orderly brings Danny his phone, it’s five per cent charged. That should be enough.
“Listen to me, Chuck. I want you to get the night nurses—Karen and the other one, the blond, I can’t remember her name—and go down to the second floor.”
“What? Why?”
“Just trust me. There isn’t much time.” Danny glances at the clock on his nightstand. 2:10 AM. Chuck is still standing in the door, frowning at him. “Go. It’s life and death. Not kidding.”
“You’re not having a pain med reaction, are you?”
