Pruitt quickly agreed. Relieved that J. D. didn’t have a clue about his real identity, he made the decision then and there to force J. D. to help him get rid of the blackmailer. Then Pruitt would get rid of J. D.
When J. D. gave up the professor’s name, he didn’t have any notion that he was signing MacKenna’s death warrant. Pruitt told J. D. that he wanted to talk to MacKenna before J. D. scared the professor into leaving town. He asked J. D. to meet him at MacKenna’s house, though J. D. hadn’t known the professor was going to die.
Pruitt now remembered how he had had a good laugh as he told J. D. that he was now an accomplice to murder, and right then he was going to get rid of the professor’s body for Pruitt.
J. D. was terrified. Pruitt didn’t care. He told him to follow his orders and everything would be just fine. The first priority was to get rid of the body.
In retrospect, Pruitt realized he should have been more specific. He also should have realized how stupid J. D. was. He shook his head as he thought about it. J. D. believed he was so clever, dumping the professor’s body in Jordan Buchanan’s car because she was a stranger in town. He thought he could place the blame on her, and he had it all set up. Or so he thought.
But J. D. hadn’t expected Lloyd to witness him stuffing the professor’s body in the trunk. And J. D. hadn’t expected that Pruitt—or Dave, as he knew him—would do whatever it took to keep Lloyd’s fat mouth shut. In fact, he hadn’t thought much of anything through. J. D. certainly hadn’t thought that Dave Trumbo would kill him.
Paul Pruitt stacked his hands on his chest and leaned back. It would have been so much simpler for all involved if J. D. had taken the professor’s body out into the desert and buried it, but he had to go and try to be clever instead.
Pruitt fell asleep wondering if he’d killed J. D. outright when he’d clobbered him from behind. Or had J. D. simply been stunned, and had he felt the fire eating his flesh?
Chapter Forty-two
PILLOWS TUCKED ALL AROUND HER, JORDAN WAS SITTING UP in bed—with medical assistance—when Noah checked on her later in the afternoon.
She looked pale again, which Noah mentioned to the nurse after the woman finished checking Jordan’s temperature.
“Well, she’s been up and has walked a few steps today,” she said cheerfully. “She’s worn out.”
Jordan was more clearheaded each time he saw her. She took this opportunity to plead her case again. “May I have some water please?” she asked.
The nurse briskly shook her head. “Absolutely not. Nothing at all by mouth yet. I’ll get you a cold washcloth and maybe a few ice chips.”
What was she supposed to do with a washcloth? Noah waited until the nurse left, then came around to the side of the bed and gently touched Jordan’s hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been shot.” She sounded disgruntled.
“Yeah, well, that’s what happened, Sugar.”
So much for sympathy. Her mother had sat at her bedside most of the morning, and each time Jordan opened her eyes, her mother was dabbing the tears on her cheeks, asking what she could do to make Jordan feel better. She also kept calling Jordan “you poor darling.” Noah, on the other hand, went the opposite route, acting like getting shot wasn’t any big deal. Jordan much preferred his approach.
“I’ll bet you’re anxious to get back to your life,” she told him.
She sounded pitiful. Her eyes closed for a second, and she didn’t see his exasperated expression.
“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” he said.
“That’s a change. Everyone else who comes in here insists again and again that I sleep.”
“Do you remember what you told me in recovery?”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Was I talking a lot?”
“Not too much,” Noah said with a laugh. “But you did say something about the shooting.”
Her eyes widened with the returning memory. “Yes…Dave Trumbo tried to kill me.” Then, as though what she had said finally penetrated, she continued. “Why did he shoot me? What did I ever do to him?” She thought for a minute and said sarcastically, “I guess maybe I should have bought a car from him.”
She closed her eyes and tried to think. She knew she wanted to tell Noah something else, but she couldn’t remember what it was.
“You didn’t do anything to him,” he assured her. “You can sleep now. We’ll talk later.”
Noah moved the chair close to Jordan and sat. He was so weary. If he could rest for just a minute…
“Did you figure it out yet? I did.” Her voice interrupted his dreams.
He looked over at her and saw a smile. “What did you figure out?”
“The date—1284. And the crown.”
“What are you talking about?”
“MacKenna’s research papers, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“The date isn’t a date.”
Did Jordan know she wasn’t making any sense? “Okay,” he agreed, tentatively.
“It’s Trumbo’s address. 1284 Royal Street. That’s where he lives. So why don’t you go there and get him so I can have a little chat with him?”
Noah smiled. The old Jordan was coming back full force.
“I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out earlier. In my defense,” she continued, “I was reading historical research. But you know what else?”
“Tell me.”
“Trumbo saw it. It’s the only way he could have known.”
“What did he see?”
“When he first met me, I was in Jaffee’s restaurant, and I had a lot of the research spread out on the table. He called it homework. He had to have seen it.”
Her mouth was dry and her throat was sore. She swallowed and said, “Trumbo saw the date, 1284, and a crown. What he saw was his address in MacKenna’s papers, but we didn’t know what it was. The boxes I mailed…they’re inside my apartment. There might be more incriminating information about him in those pages. You should send someone over. It’s evidence now.”
Noah made the call to Nick then and there. “We’ve got people on their way,” he assured her.
“They’ll need my key.”
“No they won’t. They can get in. You can rest now.”
“So you didn’t catch him yet?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
Jordan’s eyelids drooped, and he waited until she’d drifted off before he closed his own eyes.
An hour later, Nick shook him awake. “They’re waiting for us.”
Noah sat up with a start. His hand automatically went for the snap on his holster. “What the…”
“Wake up. They’re waiting,” Nick repeated.
“Lower your voice. You’ll wake Jordan.”
Nick laughed. “She’s already awake. You were out. We’ve been carrying on a conversation for a couple of minutes now.”
It wasn’t until Noah stood up that he realized that Judge Buchanan and Jordan’s youngest brother, Zachary, were in the room with them. Nick motioned for Noah to follow him out to the hallway. Noah caught himself before he ordered a federal judge not to wear out his own daughter.
Nick walked toward the elevators. “I’ve got some bad news,” he said. “Pruitt broke into Jordan’s apartment. He took the copies.”
“Ah, hell.” Noah cursed his stupidity. “Why didn’t I send someone over there sooner?”
“Jordan got shot. She’s been your priority…and mine.”
Noah issued a deep sigh. He couldn’t let his guard down. He needed to be on his game now more than ever before. For Jordan’s sake. “I need caffeine.”
“Pete’s waiting for us in the cafeteria. Food’s bad, but you should eat something. I did, and it was god-awful.”
“Good advertisement. I can’t wait!”
The elevator was taking too long, so they took the stairs. Dr. Morganstern was sitting alone at a corner table. Noah grabbed a soda and went over to join him.
There was an untouched dinner salad in front of Pete. He saw Noah looking at it. “Reminds me of my days in medical school,” Pete said with a disgusted scowl, pushing the plate away. “Let’s get down to business,” he said. “There are several agents eager to take this case. They’re anxious to get Pruitt, and they want him alive.”
“Hold on,” Nick said. “Are they thinking they’ll give him another pass if he’ll testify against some more of Chernoff’s associates?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. They’re being evasive.”
“Pruitt killed three people in Serenity and was trying for four with Jordan. No way is this lowlife gonna get a pass,” Nick countered.
“That is not our decision…”
“Yes, it is.” Noah was emphatic.
Nick backed him up. “Damn right.”
Dr. Morganstern didn’t pull rank on them. “I happen to agree with you,” he said.
“Where are these agents?” Nick asked.
“Across town, waiting for the okay.”
“Okay for what?”
He sighed. “To go public with our search for Pruitt.”
“That’s crazy,” Noah protested. “He’ll vanish.”
“And what do you propose?” Pete asked.
“They’re playing this all wrong,” said Noah.
“I’m listening.”
“Pruitt thinks he’s safe for now. But he doesn’t know what’s in those papers, and whether we have any more information about him.”
“But how can you be sure that’s what he thinks?”
“Because he’s here. Everyone’s on the lookout for him, and he hasn’t surfaced. Pruitt’s cautious. Jordan told me that she had the research papers spread out in front of him with his street number right there plain as day. He might suspect there’s other incriminating information in the professor’s research.”
“He thinks he can still fix this,” Nick added.
“Yes, and he’s halfway there,” Noah concurred. “He broke into Jordan’s apartment and got the copies.”
“Now what?” Pete asked.
“Jordan,” Noah answered. “Pruitt’s waiting to hear if she makes it or not.”
The doctor drummed his fingers on the table. “If we put Pruitt’s name out there, we’ll lose him.”
“Exactly,” Noah said. Nick nodded.
“We can’t let that happen. You have a plan?” said Pete.
Noah was glad he asked. “Yes, sir, I do. We’re setting a trap for this rat.”
“Where?” Nick asked.
Noah said, “I’m going to lure Pruitt back to Jordan’s apartment, but we’ll have to move fast to set it up.”
Nick smiled, but Pete frowned, saying, “And how are you going to accomplish that?”
“Just one phone call,” Noah answered. “That’s all it will take.”
Chapter Forty-three
“ANGELA. THIS IS NOAH CLAYBORNE.”
“Oh, my goodness. Noah!” On the other end of the phone, Angela was clearly surprised at his call. He heard a small crash and wondered if the waitress had just dropped some of Jaffee’s dishes. “You poor thing. How are you doing? We were devastated to hear about Jordan. It’s been all the talk around Serenity. How is she? We heard she was listed critical.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m trying to stay…hopeful, you know? It’s hard.”
“Oh, I know how it is. We’re all praying for her. And you too.”
“She hasn’t regained consciousness,” he said.
He looked down at his notepad and drew a line through the first of several pieces of information he wanted to give her.
“She hasn’t? I’m so sorry. I sure wish there was something I could do.”
“The reason I’m calling…”
“Yes?” Angela said eagerly.
“They gave me her things…you know. And I was going through her purse to get her phone so I could turn it off, and I saw a note she had written to herself to call Jaffee at the restaurant. I don’t know…I was just wondering if she did call him. If so, Jaffee was probably the last person…” Noah paused as his voice broke.
He crossed off the second line. Was he overdoing it? Angela seemed to be buying it.
“No, Jordan didn’t talk to him. She talked to me.” Angela gasped. “I was probably the last person she spoke to. She seemed happy and cheerful. She told me she was going to call Jaffee, but he never did hear from her.”
“Yes,” Noah said. “That must have been when it happened. The gunman was trying to shoot her father, but Jordan got in his way. I blame myself,” he added sadly.
“Why on earth would you blame yourself?” Angela asked.
“Jordan was waiting for me to join her, but I ran into some people I knew, and I lost track of the time. We were going to go back to her apartment. She was so excited to show me…” His voice broke again.
“Show you what?” Angela urged.
“You know all those research papers she made copies of?”
“Yes. She told me they were historical papers.”
“That’s right. But she told me that when she checked some info on her computer, she spotted something she really wanted me to see, something that didn’t have anything to do with history, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”
He drew a line through another subject and continued. “I thought maybe she might have told Jaffee, but since she didn’t talk to him, I’ll have to get over there sometime and look myself. But not now. I’m not leaving the hospital. I wasn’t by her side when she got shot, but I’m going to be there when she wakes up, no matter how long it takes. We can look at the information on her computer together when she’s better. Whatever Jordan found will have to wait.”
When their conversation ended, Noah hung up the phone and turned to Nick. “The word’s out.”
“How long will it take to reach Pruitt?”
“Hour, maybe two, tops.”
THE NET WAS IN PLACE. TWO AGENTS WATCHED THE ENTRANCE TO Jordan’s apartment building and two more watched the back door. All four were well hidden. Pruitt could walk past any one of them and take no notice.
