Betrayed (A CORE Sector Novel Book 1) Read online

  "So, you always answer the door with your firearm ready?" Jon asked, pointing to the weapon.

  Frank walked to the kitchen and slipped his pistol into a drawer.

  "Lawler escaped from prison yesterday." Jon said as he kept on Frank's heels. "A store clerk was found dead a few miles from the prison. They think Lawler killed the clerk and took the money. This is serious Frank."

  Frank stood in silence. He kept thinking about the uneasy feeling on his morning run. Was Gabe watching him? Could Gabe make it to Maine in just a few short hours? He didn't know but his hand grew shaky again.

  Jon picked up on Frank's uneasy feeling, "Talk to me, Frank. Something's bothering you."

  "I was about to get dressed and go to the diner. We can finish this there." He walked to the bar, poured himself a drink and slugged it down fast and hard.

  "A little early for a drink isn't it?"

  "I'm not on the clock these days," he huffed out before he exited to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He didn't want to deal with this, didn't want Jon there bugging him about these things. He just wanted to be left alone, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he felt like he was being watched earlier. He also couldn't ignore the fact that Gabe Lawler was now on the loose and probably waiting somewhere in the shadows to take his revenge.

  He sat on the bed after he dressed, wondering where his life went wrong, or more wrong than it had been in the past. He'd had a quiet retirement, pounding the keyboard with his novels. Now, all of that was going down the drain. He shook his head, stood up and headed to the other room to deal with Jon.

  8

  THE SIRENS WAILED at Petersburg State Penitentiary. Last check before lights out had revealed that Gabe Lawler was nowhere to be found. It was only a medium security facility, but a jail break was nearly impossible. In fact, this was only the third since it was built in 1948. The warden was furious when he found out who it was. Harris had ensured him earlier that day that Lawler was not a threat, he was just blowing smoke. Apparently, he had been planning this for awhile. There was no way he could pull this off on a whim.

  Dogs were brought in to search the grounds and the surrounding areas. It was mostly wooded, and being dark it would be difficult for anyone to get very far, especially if they didn't know the area. The only thing Gabe knew about this area were the insides of the prison walls. He wasn't from this area and it was unlikely he knew the locale. Even if they were allowed to use something like maps on the Internet, he wouldn't know the terrain.

  An hour later, reports of a dead store clerk came through the warden's office. He knew it had to be Lawler. Gabe had never been accused of killing anyone himself, but there was a first time for everything, and desperate people do desperate things.

  Gabe stumbled through briars and undergrowth. He was a city boy and couldn't imagine how those country guys had survived in the back woods. This may be the worst experience of his life. He heard dogs off in the distance. No clue if they were from a house or if it was the prison dogs. He didn't have a watch, but suspected they'd already discovered he was gone. He never had any intentions of escaping, but current circumstances needed to be dealt with. He knew what he had to do. Escaping was the only way to finish this, once and for all.

  DARKNESS ENVELOPED him like a shroud wrapping his body. A sliver of moon didn’t put out much light. If he could have made plans for this it would have been during a full moon. The woods were thick; stars barely peeked through the tree tops. He'd grown up in dark alleys, but this was a darkness he'd never known. Something caught him across the face. A sharp pain winced through him as he grabbed the thorned limb. The barbs dug into his hand. He let go quickly. He felt warmth glide down his face as the scratch began to bleed. He wiped his face, thankful it wasn't an inch higher. He drew in a deep breath before trudging on, the long sleeves on his denim shirt barely protecting him from the scratches of the briars. The night air was cold and damp. Mud sloshed under his feet. Could it get any worse, he asked himself as he tripped over a fallen tree, landing face down in a stench of slime. Dammit, he cursed under his breath. Yes, it could get worse. He listened as he lay there, he couldn't hear the dogs. Maybe they weren't after him yet. He heard the faint sound of a vehicle. Was he getting close to another highway, or the same one the prison was on? He didn't know which direction he was going any more. Stupid, stupid! This is about the stupidest thing you've ever done you sonofabitch. He was murmuring to himself, but it was his father's voice he heard. That bastard was part of the reason he was in prison. He took in a deep ragged breath as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. No, I'm the reason I'm in prison. I can't blame anyone else. That part of my life is over and that bastard doesn't control me. He headed forward, hoping it was the right direction.

  GUARD TANNER WALKED up to the Warden, "I don't know what he did, but the damn dogs can't find his scent nowhere."

  "Then get better dogs!" The warden hissed through gritted teeth, "He's out there. Find him!"

  The guard walked over to his truck and let his two best dogs out. If they couldn't find him, he wouldn't be found. He shoved the pillow case from Gabe's bed under their noses. One yipped and they took off in a northerly direction, the guards close behind them. After two miles, one barked ferociously, he was onto something. The guards caught up, just in time to be sprayed by a skunk. "Oh Shit!" One of them yelled, "You need to shoot those damned worthless dogs. I've had poodles that could do better than this shit."

  Guard Tanner looked at him, "A poodle man, eh? I should've known. "He rolled his eyes.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Another guard laughed, "It means you don't have any balls, dumbass."

  BY DAYBREAK, Gabe was in some grungy motel, the lukewarm shower felt good, although it stung the cuts and scratches he'd acquired during his trek though the woods. He'd snagged some street clothes from one of the guard's lockers. Since he didn't smoke or buy candy bars, he'd saved up a good chunk of money from his prison allowance. He could live on it for awhile. His main concern was getting to Frank Temple without being caught.

  He got dressed and kicked back on the bed to think about his plan. He was making most of it up as he went along, but so far it was working out okay.

  A pounding noise woke him suddenly. He jumped out of bed, disoriented and fell over a chair. His heart skipped a beat as he lay on the floor and listened. He heard the pounding again, possibly two doors down from him. Had the cops already found him? Damn, this is all the hell I need. He pulled himself up and crept over to the window to peek out, holding his breath as he eased the curtain back. Off to his right there was nothing. Something caught his attention to the left. His heart quickened as he turned his head. A long sigh escaped him. It was the guy who checked him in, arguing with another tenant.

  He walked over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face.

  9

  GAVIN PULLED INTO HIS DRIVEWAY. The house was dark, only the faint glow of the fireplace shown through the window. He slipped in through the door, hoping his sister had already gone to bed.

  He crept into the den and began pouring himself a drink, "You're home late." The hiss of Alva's voice broke the silence of the night and crept into his bones, chilling his spine. He hated it when she was lurking. Maybe one day he'd be rid of the bitch.

  He turned to face her. She sat in the dark like an evil dominion seeking its prey. The glass of brandy sloshed a bit in the glass he was holding. "Yeah." He managed to get out. "I went to speak with Alec."

  "For what reason?" Alva asked coolly.

  Gavin sat down on the loveseat. "Tough day, I wanted to get more information out of him."

  Alva came out of her brooding, dark corner and pushed her wheelchair over beside him, "Tell me what happened." She placed her hand on his thigh. At one time it comforted him, but in these moods of hers, it sent chills up his spine. She could be so demanding, ruthless. Even when she was calm on the surface, he could feel the vileness that ran through her veins. She'd been a good
mother-like figure and a good sister to him, but things had to go her way, or else.

  Gavin placed his hand on hers, hoping she didn't notice the tremble. He prepared himself for the fury before he spoke, "They know Charlotte's alive." He took a sip of his drink.

  Alva pulled her hand back. He waited for the slap across his face, for the backlash of the lie he'd been telling her for nine months.

  She pushed backwards and wheeled herself to the bay window to look out. He never was sure if he feared her wrath or her silence more. Neither was good. He could tell she was sitting there, arms folded in front of her and seething. He expected her eyes were glowing red, although he'd never seen it. She finally spoke, calmly, "Why is she alive, Gavin? And more importantly, why have you been lying to me?" She turned to face him, "You know what happens to little boys when they misbehave." She pressed her lips together. Her eyes narrowed as she stared a hole through him.

  Sweat formed on his brow. He cleared his throat, trying to get the words out, "I. I couldn't kill her. It's Charlotte for god's sake."

  "Is that supposed to mean something? You think that little redhead," she paused. He knew the gears were turning in her mind. She came over to him, "Maybe you have feelings for her?" She put a finger under his chin and raised his head so their eyes could meet.

  "No, no Alva, it's not that. I've just," he took in a deep breath, tears started to form in his eyes, "I've known her most of my life. She's like a sister."

  "The hell she is Gavin. I am your sister. Your only sister and I've put my whole life into raising you and shaping you to be the kind of man you need to be."

  "Yes, Alva, but Charlotte has always been good to us. She's helped you out with social parties."

  "Pfft," Alva spat out as she waved her hand in the air, "I could have done all of that without her. The fact that she's too damn nice for her own good is her downfall. Apparently she's wrapped you around her finger too."

  Gavin hung his head. There was no way to get through to her. He wasn't like her. As much as she tried to make it so, he wasn't as sadistic as his sister, but he had his moments. Many times he wanted out from under her thumb. The accident nine months ago that supposedly killed Charlotte, had failed to do its job on his sister.

  It was treacherous living under these conditions. He worked hard to be away from home as much as possible. Some people end up in a living hell by the choices they make. Some are born into it. Most get to escape by the time they're eighteen. Some are still stuck in it past the age of forty.

  "How did they find out she's alive?" Her words jolted him out of his thoughts.

  "They're finding the paper trail."

  "Paper trail? What damn paper trail?" She closed the distance between them. The strike across his face echoed with a loud crack. "How could you be so stupid? You lousy son of a bitch! I thought you covered your tracks better than that!" She barked it out at him.

  He reached to rub his cheek. She smacked his hand away. "Alva, you know these guys are good."

  "Well, you'll just have to be better." Her words oozed over him. He'd never felt like he lived up to her expectations. He busted his ass all his life and it was never enough for her. "Well, they've just found the first of it. It should take them awhile to follow it." He let out a sigh, hoping it would appease her.

  Her face changed. It glowed like a devil grinning with hellfire in the background. "Oh, this can work to our advantage." She reached out and gently rubbed the red spot forming on his cheek. "Don't you worry, my sweet. I will come up with a plan."

  Gavin stood up, bent to kiss his sister on the cheek, "Good. I'm going to call it a night."

  Alva looked at him with piercing eyes. He always thought they could see right through him. "You'll do no such thing. Go heat up your dinner and then we'll work on my plan."

  "Yes, dear." He managed to whisper before heading to the kitchen.

  He put his plate in the microwave and turned it on. He wasn't hungry, but if he didn't eat, Alva would get worse. He must avoid that, especially with things the way they were headed.

  He ate quickly, washed up his plate and returned to the den to find her sitting quietly, rocking herself. In the past, when she could walk she would pace the floor. It had always mesmerized him when she was thinking. She’d had the gracefulness of an ice skater, gliding across the floor. There was also something deeper though, he never could pinpoint, a stern sense of control that she carried with her at all times. Most people would never notice it. To others she was a pillar of the community, warm and inviting. Always the gracious hostess.

  She stopped, knowing he was staring at her. She always knew. "Stop gawking, Gavin. It is so unbecoming of a gentleman."

  "Yes, Alva." He stammered as he walked over to refresh his drink before sitting in the over-stuffed chair.

  Alva turned to face him. "She has to die. No lying bullshit this time. Get the job done right!"

  Gavin choked on the brandy, "What?" He managed to speak with grave hoarseness in his throat. "We can't kill her, Alva. That's not right."

  Alva's face reddened. She leaned back, sure of herself as always and crossed her arms over her chest. " Don't be such an idiot, Gavin. We have to do whatever it takes." She sat up straight, "You are keeping in touch with her, aren't you?"

  Gavin took another sip of the brandy, "Yes. Sure."

  "You don't sound very sure. I thought I raised you better than this."

  Gavin tried to regain some kind of composure, "I'm just tired, Alva. It's been a long day. I have kept in touch with her."

  "Good. Putting this plan into motion should be relatively easy, then." She eased back into the wheelchair and sipped her drink before going over her plan.

  Gavin made it to bed just past one in the morning. He didn't think he'd get much sleep even though he was exhausted, but sleep came easy. Alva had taught him to shut his feelings off when he needed to.

  10

  FRANK WASN'T REALLY LOOKING at the menu, he knew everything on it. He just wasn't in the mood for Jon's lecture. Maybe he had gone soft.

  Jon spoke again, "There's an older model black Charger that's passed by here twice," he said looking out the window. "Do you recognize it?"

  "No," Frank replied.

  "You didn't even look, Frank."

  "I don't have to, Jon. I saw it yesterday."

  "What?" Jon yelled, causing the other patrons to turn and look at him. "Why the hell didn't you tell me? Why the hell haven't you checked it out?" Jon gruffed at Frank as he ran out the door to get a better look at the car. When he returned, Frank was turned to look out the window. "Why didn't you tell me, dammit?

  Frank sighed, he knew he should have, "Well, at first I thought it was just someone new to the neighborhood. There's rent houses a few blocks from me and sometimes the turnover rate is high."

  "You're slacking, Frank!"

  "Look Jon, I'm not a cop any more. I see cars come and go all the time and never think anything of it. That's just how it is. Besides, you're the cop, why aren't you out there chasing it down if you're so worried about it? Besides, Lawler escaped yesterday. Doubtful it's him for the timeframe of things."

  Jon looked at Frank with angst in his eyes. He knew Frank was being callous. "You having the dreams again?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "Because that's the only time you take this attitude with me."

  "I'm not really in the mood for this." Frank shuffled in the booth to face the other patrons instead of looking out the window.

  "Oh, I'm so sorry, Frank. How dare Gabe Lawler bust out of prison and stalk you when you're not in the mood for it." Jon pulled out his phone like he was going to use it. "Let me ring him up and see if we can reschedule this. Is next week better for you?"

  Frank had never wanted to hit Jon until this moment. He knew he deserved everything Jon was saying. He was being stupid and that wasn't helping the situation, nor would it help them catch the bastard. But he couldn't get over the fact that he wasn't a cop any more. He'd
moved back to Maine for a quiet retirement and having convicts show up didn't fit that plan. He stood up and grabbed his jacket, "Let's finish this at my house. I need a drink."

  "What about our food?"

  Frank chuckled, "Well, I see you still keep the important things in check. Dee's has takeout boxes. The food will be soggy by the time we get to my place and it'll be like old times on stake out."

  Jon shook his head and then grinned, the old Frank was starting to show up.

  JON WAS ENJOYING his meal while Frank sipped a bourbon. He was starting to explain Gabe's escape when there was a knock at the door. Frank looked puzzled as he got up. Jon slipped his gun into his lap under the table. Frank looked through the keyhole and gave Jon a sign it was okay. Jon kept his pistol where it lay. Frank opened the door to Charlotte McDougal.

  "Frank, I hate to bother you," she said, as she stepped inside and noticed Jon. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company."

  "It's okay, this is my old partner from DC Metro. He's in for a short visit."

  "Nice to meet you."

  Before Jon could speak Frank asked Charlotte what he could do for her. "My car won't start and I need to get a few things from town. I have so much baking to do before the festival this weekend."

  Frank reached in his pocket and pulled out his keys,

  "Take my car and while you're gone we'll go over and have a look at yours."

  "Are you sure Frank? I don't want to put you out."

  Jon interrupted, "Ma'am, it'd be our pleasure to help you out. I was raised in a garage. It's probably something simple."

  Charlotte smiled, "Thank you so much, both of you. I promise I won't be gone long."

  Frank shut the door and turned to face Jon who had a large grin on his face. "What?"

  "I can see why you stay here. Single I suppose?"

  "Yes, she is, but I don't have time to chase women around. I have work to do."

  "Hmmmm, I think I'd make time for that."

  "You're a dog, Jon"