Has our conscience shown?
Has the sweet breeze blown?
Has all kindness gone?
Hope still lingers on…
Collective Soul "The World I Know"
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She could feel them in her wake.
Though the vans and unmarked police cars were far behind and out of sight, Lisa felt the drag of their weighty presence as she drove; sensed them as they fanned out after her like a vast wing unfolding. Mathis had told her that every police officer in Dade, Broward, and Collier County was aware of tonight's operation. At the moment it was over, there would be massive support from law enforcement.
Jackson would not escape.
Lisa drove fast, keeping an anxious eye on the clock. "I'll be here for ten minutes. Not a second longer," Jackson had said.
Visible from afar even in the dark, the towering structure of the uncompleted expressway guided her. Reaching the older street that ran alongside and below it, she slowed, searching the shadowed area beneath the overpass for Jackson's car.
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In his rearview mirror, Jackson watched Lisa's Camry move with slow caution down the street. No one appeared to have followed her, but he would not be convinced so easily. Haste was critical now; he clenched one hand into a fist with edgy repetition and turned to watch her lingering approach through his rear window.
Out of nowhere, instinctual alarm slashed Jackson. It's wrong. All wrong… His foot tensed on the accelerator, causing the parked BMW to growl eagerly and rock forward in its place, like a dog straining the limits of its chain.
The lights swung toward him, and as the car bumped over the uneven ground, Jackson made out Lisa's silhouette inside. She's here. Reining in the mystifying inclination to desert Lisa, he relaxed. After all he had endured, and how long he had waited for this moment, Jackson was not about to let a gutless flare of doubt deny him what he wanted.
He held his ground. Narrowing his eyes against the white light reflected in the rearview mirror, he watched as Lisa's car parked close behind his.
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I'm not going to get hurt.
Lisa got out of her car and shut the door, the sound echoing hollowly under the overpass. The obsidian BMW crouched wickedly before her, flaunting its out of place affluence in the garbage-strewn shadows. As she walked up behind it, Jackson revved the engine, signaling his desire to be off at once.
A train grumbled and clattered past somewhere nearby as Lisa approached Jackson's passenger door, the ground vibrating under her feet as if to accentuate the enormity of the moment. More aware than ever of the wire against her body, she quickly jumped into the car and closed herself in with Jackson.
"Hi, Lisa." His smooth voice trigged dread and excitement within her.
She set her purse, which carried the tiny GPS device, on the floor in front of her seat. Look at him, damn it. Lisa turned to Jackson, attempting a faded smile that was doomed from the start. "Hi," she managed to breathe. Already Jackson had put the car in motion, pulling out onto the street.
Lisa's hands clutched at one another in a telling display of nerves, and she separated them quickly. Do it. Get something for Mathis, and get this over with. "You know, I thought a lot about what you said last night. And you're right. I should have thanked you for…"
Jackson peered at her as he turned onto the boulevard that led out of the industrial district, palming the wheel casually. "Lisa, I need to concentrate on getting out of town right now. Can this conversation wait until I accomplish that?"
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As the van went over a section of rough road, Mathis pressed one side of his headphones tighter against his ear and watched the GPS monitor. The triangular cursor showed the BMW making swift progress through the outskirts of Miami. "Pick up the pace; he's getting too far ahead," Mathis directed the van's driver.
Lisa was holding up, but Jackson was not giving her any sort of opening for talk. Twenty-nine minutes had passed, with no dialogue between them since she had first gotten in his car. The only sounds now were the vehicle itself, and Rippner's stereo.
"Well, at least we're finding out what kind of music the bastard likes," quipped Smith, the officer assisting Mathis with the wiretap. "Can we charge him with bad fucking taste?"
Mathis turned a baleful eye toward Smith, who immediately shut up.
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Lisa swallowed nervously; she had assumed that Jackson would leave Miami via Interstate 95. If he had, the police could have blended in with the other vehicles and followed more closely.
But Jackson was taking Alligator Alley.
A sixty-mile length of highway that sliced in a perfectly straight line through the heart of the Everglades, Alligator Alley was the most exposed and isolated route away from Miami. Along both sides of the desolate highway there was only endless sawgrass, swampland and clumps of palmettos; an unfriendly landscape made maximally more threatening by the complete darkness.
Jackson had chosen it for that very reason; if anyone were to follow them, their lights would be visible from a great distance. He would have adequate warning of any threat.
Oh God… Lisa stared into her side mirror at the ever more distant shimmer of Miami. There was no sign of any vehicles behind them. Where was Mathis?
Jackson was driving very fast now; Lisa dared to steal a look at him. He was calm and in control, and it was almost as though she were not in the car with him at all. Focusing on the dark road ahead, his eyes occasionally moved to his mirror as he kept watch for any sign of a pursuer.
They had the highway to themselves.
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She's fucking terrified.
Lisa's visible fear triggered a mental flashback to their flight; it was in the white-knuckled grip of her hand on the armrest and her blank stare - only she was more afraid now. Jackson sighed inwardly. She had been stronger and more prepared last night. Maybe I should have left with her then. Or maybe I shouldn't be taking her at all…
Slowing the car, Jackson eased it off the road and onto the shoulder, the long grass hissing against the undercarriage. Lisa turned to him in greater distress. Jackson parked the vehicle and turned to her, resting his forearm on the steering wheel as if they had all the time in the world.
He waited. Lisa's complexion was wan, her jaw line rigid; she had no ability to hide her fear. "Lisa," Jackson began, rubbing his chin meditatively, "I can't have you with me if you're going to be a nervous wreck." He watched her eyes closely. "You understand that, don't you?"
Lisa nodded, lips tight.
Jackson nodded back. "Good. See, I can't help but notice that you've been sitting over there looking like I'm about to drive this car off a cliff. And that makes me wonder what exactly it is you're afraid of."
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Lisa forced herself to maintain eye contact with Jackson. Arm still draped carelessly over the wheel, he leaned toward her. "You have no reason to be scared of me, Leese. You're on my side now."
Her heart hammered in her chest with such rapid force that she wondered madly if Mathis could hear it in his headphones. "I know," she said, amazed at the evenness of her voice.
"Then what's the problem?" Irritation was creeping into his voice. "You wanted to come with me. Last night in my kitchen, you were begging me not to leave you." He looked her over in disappointment.
The prospect of losing Jackson's hard-won respect jolted Lisa out of her stupor of fright. She was not afraid of Jackson himself. It was the wire. The wire against her flesh was the true source of her anxiety and the sole reason she feared him. Gathering the shreds of her composure, she straightened in her seat and raised her chin defiantly. "I'm fine. I'm sorry if I'm not as nonchalant about this as you want me to be."
Jackson tilted his head pensively. "You'll get used to this, Leese. And you'll wonder how you ever lived any other way."
Lisa chewed her lip. The conversation was not going at all how she had expected. Jackson's eyes softened with the same languor they possessed when he made love to her. "You don't feel it yet… but you're more free now than you have ever been," he murmured. He caressed her face, letting his thumb rest on her bottom lip, and she fought the powerful urge to take it into her mouth.
Mathis was listening. Dozens of police officers were waiting for evidence. But she was paralyzed before the blue depths of Jackson's eyes.
He slid his thumb along her lip, his heated gaze following its path. "You're with me now. Our lives depend on you being honest with me, and with yourself. You have some soul-searching to do. Either I'm the one who ruined your life… or I'm the best thing that ever happened to you."
Or both. His arrogantly positive words were enthralling, reaching a place in her very essence that she had not expected. The bitter irony of the moment between them was almost unbearable; useless to the police and heartbreakingly meaningful to her. With the wire, she had chained herself to her old life - a life she could never truly resurrect.
Jackson offered her something she had never known she wanted… but now, recognizing it too late, she could not take it.
He leaned in and kissed her, tasting her hungrily. Lisa laced weakened arms about his neck and met him with matching emotion, abandoning herself to fate. The soft lightness of his hair in her fingers, she poured her soul into the kiss, knowing it was to be the last time.
If Jackson was meant to discover her deceit, she could not stop him.
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Jackson wanted her.
Wanted to take her in the front seat like a horny teenager, with the hot night pressing against the windows. Exploring her mouth with his, he wrapped an arm around Lisa's body and bent her back until her head nearly touched her window. Breaking the kiss, she moaned softly, and her body writhed sensually beneath his. Intoxicated, Jackson responded in kind, exhaling heavily against her neck before claiming her lips again. Last night had been a dizzying sample of what they would share together, and he was impatient for more.
But he could not waste any more time on the side of the road. Not yet. I can have her anytime I want. The thought momentarily increased his arousal, and he pulled her to him, voraciously deepening the kiss, before releasing her.
Lisa's slender arms slid from his shoulders, and she looked into him as she had the night before. Everything halted between them, the only sound their light breathing. Yes. Lisa would go through the very gates of hell for him. Her eyes told him the truth, even if her lips would not.
But as he watched, Lisa's eyes filled with tears and her chin wobbled, her emotions overtaking her again. Damn it. It was frustrating - she was made of stronger stuff than this.
Jackson sat back. If Lisa could not control her despondency, he would manage it for her. He pressed the button to lower her window. And, as she turned her head towards the rush of warm air, Jackson reached down, seized her purse from the floor, and hurled it out the window. It vanished into the blackness, making a distinct splash where it landed in the water-filled ditch beyond.
Lisa gasped.
She faced him, her mouth open in outrage. Good. Better anger than fear or sadness. Anger was familiar; he could tolerate it.
Jackson started the car rolling forward, maneuvering off the grass and back onto the road. Lisa stared at him in offended silence. "A clean break, Leese," Jackson said. "Your old life is over. Throw a kiss and wave goodbye."
"Oh my God…" she said quietly.
"Don't start," Jackson said warningly, his eyes darting to her.
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Mathis stared at the GPS screen, a hand crushed against his upper lip. The cursor had blinked for a moment, but remained exactly where it had been for the last five minutes - 15.3 miles along Alligator Alley and motionless.
However, Mathis could hear the BMW's acceleration in his headphones. "Shit. I think Rippner may have just tossed the GPS. We need to get moving."
"She's losing her nerve. She hasn't gotten a goddamn thing from him yet," complained Smith.
Mathis shot him a look. "She will." The van started moving again.
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"Your old life is over."
Lisa watched the road ahead. As Jackson pushed the BMW to greater speed, the white lines in the road became a mesmerizing blur. Her old life was indeed over; it had ended the moment she first sat in seat 18G on the airplane. Since then, Lisa had thought foolishly that if she made the correct decisions, balance would eventually be restored and her life would right itself. But through it all, she had overlooked what was now devastatingly clear - that Jackson was too large a part of her life to remove without damage.
I've done it all wrong.
The pieces had been there all along, she had put them together and doubted the logical simplicity of the result. Her picture in Jackson's pocket… the security camera image of him threatening Jenkins… his frantic call to her from his hospital bed… the dead man outside her condo…
Lisa closed her eyes. Jackson had stayed in Miami, risking himself, for only one reason.
For her.
Numb with remorseful guilt, Lisa sat in silence, as if Mathis and the other officers, realizing her cooperation had reached its limits, would release her from the obligation and allow her to flee with Jackson into the night. But that would not happen. Tonight Jackson was to receive a knife in the chest - by her hand.
There was no way out.
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Headlights. In his mirror.
Jackson sat sentinel, his brow furrowing at the distant vehicle far to the rear. He pushed the BMW faster still, and it seemed to lift, becoming weightless in its velocity. Lisa had gone dead silent and he supposed that was a good sign. Instant compliance from her was essential, and he might need her to exercise it soon. He would know within minutes.
The lights behind had grown in luminosity. Definitely getting closer. He was driving at close to ninety miles per hour, and this car was catching him. Fuck. Though it might be only an innocent traveler who did not want to linger on the remote highway, Jackson felt a gut-level tension that told him otherwise.
Like a godsend, a sign flashed past out of the darkness that he just had time to read - a rest area only a mile ahead. The place was a radiant beacon in the distance, and Jackson made a quick decision. Better to stop, turn and make a stand, if there was one to be made, than to drag his potential pursuer for another forty miles.
Jackson drew in a deep, bracing breath. "Lisa, I'm going to stop at this rest area up here," he pointed with two fingers atop the steering wheel. On their rapid approach, he could see that the small building was little more than an isolated outpost lit by a single streetlamp.
Lisa turned to him apprehensively.
Jackson glanced at her. "When I do, I want you to get out of the car and go in the bathroom." For fuck's sake, please don't argue with me. Just this once. "Lock the door and stay in there until I tell you to come out."
Lisa looked over her shoulder at the lights behind them, terrified comprehension dawning on her face.
"Lisa," Jackson snapped. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, yes!"
Jackson barreled toward the rest area, only slowing at the last moment. The BMW slewed into the small parking lot, tires protesting the sudden move with a long screech, and Lisa's hand clamped down on her armrest. Jackson brought the car to a swift stop in front of the building.
Lisa threw her door wide and swung a leg out, then turned back to him, panic and anguish despoiling her elegant features. Hesitating, as if afraid to go on without him. Jackson looked at her with regret - she was so tragically out of her element.
Through her open door, Jackson could hear the approaching car. Coming fast - whispering up the blacktop. But he wanted only to look at Lisa, to etch her beautiful face into his consciousness.
There was no more to be said. They had run out of time.
"Get in there, Leese," he said calmly, flicking his eyes toward the small block building.
And she was gone, closing him into the quiet interior alone. Jackson watched her dash into the women's restroom and pull the door closed. The door appeared to be made of metal - that was good.
Spinning the wheel quickly in his hands, Jackson repositioned the BMW parallel to the front of the building, passenger side almost against Lisa's restroom door, hoping the car's steel body would add an extra layer of defense for her.
The other car, a Mercedes, had reached the rest area. It swerved off the road, headlights making Jackson squint as he struggled to see the driver. As the car neared, several surreal points of perspective came over him.
How funny it would be if this was only some guy with diarrhea in a hurry to get in the bathroom and wondering why a BMW was in the way.
How he knew that was not the case, and that he might be looking at the last few seconds of his life.
And an ironic stab of delayed remorse; the first he had felt. Remorse that he had played at being Lisa's protector for weeks, when in fact his presence in her life was to blame for her endangerment.
And the words he had never said to her but should have.
I'm sorry, Lisa…
The Mercedes rolled swiftly up next to him.
But I'd do it all over again.
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Lisa pressed herself against the door, listening. The BMW was just on the other side, engine smoothly chugging, and she knew Jackson had placed it there as a shield. Protecting her.
Backing away from the door, tears flowing freely, she reached beneath her shirt and grasped handfuls of the wire, tearing the detestable thing from her body. He doesn't deserve this. Gasping and struggling to drag the entangled device from her bra, she heard the other car pull into the parking lot.
Shots exploded from beyond the door, and Lisa dropped to the floor, her mouth open in a soundless scream. Shot after thunderous shot rang out, merging with the somehow more terrifying crunch of bullet-ridden glass. She flattened herself against the filthy tile, hands over her ears.
The silence after was deafening. Lisa half-crawled, half-slithered to the far corner of one of the stalls, sure that someone would try to enter the room at any moment. Sobbing, she crouched in a tight ball, one hand unconsciously pulling the wire free at last and tossing it aside.
She listened.
A car drove away.
Not Jack's BMW - she could still hear it running outside the door. The monotonous sound of his car idling wore on her as the seconds turned into minutes, but she could not make herself rise from the tissue littered floor.
Jackson had not called to her.
Get up… he might need you. Lisa stood and inched toward the door on legs that shook violently. Reaching it, she rested her forehead against the cool metal, feeling faint. Don't go out there. Jack told you to stay in here until…
She listened.
The BMW ran incessantly. Millions of frogs croaked with high-pitched dissonance, a memory of summer nights. Nothing outside stirred. Crying, Lisa slid her hands over the dirty, smudged door until her fingers wrapped around the handle.
She listened…