Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [662]
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and leaned against the wall. Maybe Timmy had to get change from the office. The pay phone still took quarters. Probably not many like it left. Truly ancient. He smiled and thought Sister Kate should ask for it if and when the school ever replaced it.
“You, over there. What are you doing?”
Gibson straightened up and pushed away from the wall. It was the tall, hawk-nosed guy from Monsignor O’Sullivan’s office yesterday. And he was coming at Gibson, pointing a finger at him as if lasering him to the spot. It worked. Gibson couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.
“What are you still doing here? Isn’t class over?”
“I…uh…” Gibson tried to answer but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“I saw you yesterday, right? You were snooping around Monsignor O’Sullivan’s office.”
The guy towered over him, looking down his nose, the finger still pointing, only now poking Gibson in the chest.
“Why are you still here?”
“I’m…uh, I’m waiting…”
“You’re meeting someone?” The guy looked around. “Maybe you’re meeting someone to make an exchange?”
“Huh?”
“Is this what you do after everyone’s gone? You make a few deals?”
The finger pokes emphasized “gone” and “deals.” Gibson didn’t know what the guy was talking about. His heart was beating so hard he felt sure it would explode with one more poke.
“What do you have in the backpack? Are there drugs in there? Is that what you’re waiting around for? To make a few deals? Open it up.”
Gibson held it even tighter. He knew they could do random searches, but this guy was scary. All Gibson wanted to do was find an opportunity to run.
“Do as I say.”
Gibson tried not to look him in the eyes, almost afraid they carried some sort of evil power. He should try to look at him, stare him down, make him think he wasn’t afraid, but he couldn’t do it. He was afraid.
“Give me the bag,” he said and reached for it. That’s when Gibson bolted to the left and tried to run. The guy held one of the backpack’s straps and he jerked Gibson with such strength it almost knocked him off his feet.
“What’s going on over there?” Gibson heard Father Tony’s voice, but he couldn’t see beyond the black frame of his captor.
“Everything’s under control,” the guy said in a voice that came nowhere near the tone he had just been using. It was almost soft and reassuring. And the tugging grip on his backpack loosened a bit.
Gibson yanked completely free, twisting around the guy, missing a swipe of his clawing hand by inches. He ran down the steps. He didn’t bother to answer when Father Tony called out to ask if he was okay. Like who would Father Tony believe anyway? Gibson or the Darth Vader of Our Lady of Sorrow?
Gibson ran, hitting the bottom of the stairs, pushing open the lobby doors. He kept running, past the sidewalk, past the parking lot, not looking back.
CHAPTER 59
Saint Francis Center
Omaha, Nebraska
Maggie spotted Christine Hamilton, who waved at her and Pakula. Christine marched across the large room, weaving in between the long tables, each with a dozen or so volunteers on phones. When she finally reached them she gave Maggie a hug.
“Hi, Christine. It’s been a long time.”
“You look great,” she said, and to Pakula she offered her outstretched hand. “I’m Christine Hamilton. You must be Detective Pakula. Thanks for agreeing to meet here.”
“Detective Sassco assured me this was a fact-finding mission. No hidden agenda. No media tricks.”
“Believe me, Detective, I’m not the one with a hidden agenda. If anything, I’m the one trying to figure out what’s going on. Pretty much like you are.”
Maggie glanced at Pakula to see if he believed her, then back at Christine to see if she was being straight with them. Maggie couldn’t help remembering the last time, the case in Platte City when Christine, then a rookie reporter, had used anything and everything she could to make headlines. Her son’s kidnapping had straightened out her professional