Fugitive

Chapter 24

My cap remained as low as I could keep it while still being able to see. I placed my backpack on the seat for a quick get-away if necessary. There was a little hall towards the back that led to the kitchens back entrance, the back door of the building and the bathrooms. My alternative escape route. The waitress came back a while later with my burger, fries and a shake. "Oh, I didn't order a"... "On the house". I nodded. "Thank you". She smiled widely at me before strutting off, swaying her hips. I took a sip of the milkshake, not even realising her number was written on a post it on the top before I sat it back down. I took it off the lid and pocketed it. Leaving it would be rude. I think. Not that I would use it anyway. Not my type. Did I have a type? I took a bite of the burger first. Heaven. I shook some salt over the fries and put some ketchup on the side. Perfect. It didn't take long for it all to disappear. I dipped my fries in the milkshake. Mostly to relive some childhood memories. I never actually liked doing it. But Cat was obsessed. She couldn't have fries without a milkshake. When I was finished, I looked out the window. The waitress came back over a while later and took everything away. She came back with a pot of coffee. Coffee. I haven't had coffee in a while. I took a few sips, not really liking it and not really wanting it. I drank it anyway, taking my time. It would be rude to leave it. Only a few people came in. None I really took any notice of. Apart from the caution when they enter of course. I pulled out my new phone and did some googling. Mostly about me. Everyone's googled themselves at least once right? When I used to do this, it would come up with some Marine stuff. Nothing remotely interesting or important. Also, some school records. Photos of me with my high school lacrosse team, that sort of thing. But since the day Cat and Toby were shot all there's been are conspiracies, wanted person files, news articles. There was another interview with Mom and Dad. I didn't watch it, knowing I would just start feeling guilty. Heck, I already felt guilty. I was putting them through so much. At least they knew. Or I thought they knew. I'm sure they got the message from what I said at the funeral. I haven't been in contact with them. Talking to my parents has never been a big thing for me. It was for Cat. She used to call every night. Or ever second night if she was especially busy that week. Of course, I was away with the Marines a lot. I guess that got me used to the distance. I think it's almost just a woman thing as well. I know that one of my cousins who is married now is always (and I mean always) hassling her husband to call his parents. His name's Josh. I faught for him one night trying to prove that calling every night is too much and a little obsessive. He never calls his parents and I get that. The girls don't... Cat and my parents literally lived in the same town. Cat hadn't been in as much contact with them recently because of their trip but they still skyped a couple of nights a week. I felt bad for not talking to them. I knew I couldn't. I had to do this. It was important to me that the real killer got what he deserved. But it was also important that they know their son didn't kill their daughter. I didn't want them to think I'd actually done it. I want to say it will be worth it when I finally prove that it wasn't me. That it was that son of a bitch Dennis. I took another sip of coffee and kept scrolling through the news posts. The picture they were using all over the news of me wasn't flattering at all. All I think when I look at it is 'couldn't they have gotten a better picture'? This picture actually makes me look like a serial killer. Now that I think about it that was probably the point. It shouldn't be high on my list of concerns. And it's not. But if all of America is going to see my face couldn't it have been a better picture? I found only one page that supported me. It wasn't even support really. It was just questioning what the police had been saying about my motives, how I could have done it etc. I didn't like thinking about it. I didn't like thinking about how other people were thinking about it either. If that makes sense. After a bit more googling and a lot more people watching and staring out the window I headed out. Sneaked out rather. I didn't want the waitress to see me leave. She seems like to type who wouldn't let you leave until she got something from you. The bell on the door ringed as I left. It was dark out now. I still had a bit of time until 11:00pm. I headed over to the lot and staked the place out. There were only a few cars there. Empty. Street lights were the only means of light. I walked around the entire area looking for trip wires, or some other kind of booby trap. I made sure there were no bags hidden behind the bushes containing weapons. No camera's, no other people. Once I was satisfied, I crouched behind some small bushes at the edge of the lot. Shadows cast along the ground. It was getting a lot colder now. There was a crisp breeze. My arms shivered, goose bumps appearing. I rolled my sleeves down but they provided little warmth. I huddled down more, out of the wind. I was almost lying down by that point. My legs crossed trying to contain the warmth. How the hell did it get so cold so fast? I gave up and ended up lying on my back staring up at the sky. It wasn't comfortable by any means but I had to wait here for Dennis. Once he arrived I would start recording on my phone and place it in my pocket. I had everything planned out. I can't express how annoyed I would be if he didn't turn up. Which was still a possibility. But I figured Dennis was a curious enough person to come, just to see what was going on and what I knew. I doubt he would have been that intimidated by my 'I will kill you' comment. He's the kind of guy who gets paid not to listen to those threats. Before I knew it 11:00pm had arrived and there was no sign of Dennis. I was up and alert watching for him. I figured he would come over from the opposite side, because it is the closest and most convenient from his house. Then again, he's trained, so he will stake out the area as well. He's probably watching me from somewhere right now. I pulled out my shotgun and looked around. Dennis appeared moments later and walked into the middle of the lot. From exactly where I predicted. He hadn't even looked around for me. His confidence rattled me. I was supposed to be calling the shots here, but I felt like he had the better hand. I felt like he knew he had the better hand. He was mocking me. With a royal flush. I tucked the shotgun into my waistband and put my backpack on. I unlocked my phone and started the recording. I place my phone gently positioned into my pocket before walking out of the darkness. Dennis looked at me expectantly. "Dennis Penfold", I stated my breath fogging and disappearing into the night. "The one and only. Who are you"? "Jacob Rogers". "Ahhh. Jacob Rogers". "You killed them". "I haven't killed anyone". He lied so smoothly. "I know you were part of the Russian Mafia. I know you were sent to kill Kat and Toby to scare me off. I know it was you! Don't contradict what I already know"! I was yelling now. His smug expression and arrogant tone of voice had my fingers curling into a fist. "I don't know what you want me to say". "I want you to"... Suddenly sirens. Cop cars pulled up around the corner. "Shit". I turned and bolted. Blue and red light casting on the ground all around me. I already felt like I was surrounded. It didn't take much to disappear into the streets surrounding. I'd lost the cops, and with them Dennis. He must have called the cops. The son of a bitch. That's why he looked so smug the entire time. He knew the cops would arrive seconds later. I never got the confession. I don't think he knew that was my plan. Maybe the cops were even just a backup. No there's no way he could have arranged that. He must have anonymously called the cops informing them of our meeting. Or inform them that I would be there at 11:00pm. Dennis wouldn't get too involved with the cops. He probably snuck away as well. I doubt he would go with them anywhere. He wouldn't trust them with anything. Cops can be manipulated. Dennis was taking advantage of that. It was still extremely cold. I had no intention of spending the night outdoors. I walked around searching for somewhere to stay. A warehouse or something. I found a hotel that looked pretty vacant. I looked in the windows through the thin white drapes. There were bags in that room. I couldn't see the bed but I figured it was occupied. Two doors down I found a room that was empty. It was locked, of course. I easily picked it. It opened easily. I closed it gently behind me. There were magazines on the table in front of a TV mounted on the wall. The bed was in the next room. It had a full kitchen with a small oven and mini fridge. The bathroom had a big shower and two sinks. Maybe I should have broken into a place less fancy. Apparently, the only thing wrong with the place was that the oven glass was a bit dirty and stained. Really though the place looked nice. The best accommodation I've had in a while. I took the opportunity to plug in my phone and charge it right up. I was tired. It was a long day. I crawled under the fluffy white sheets and fell asleep almost instantly. Still fuming about Dennis's little stunt. I woke up as the sun was rising. Not that you could see much of the sun. It was overcast but the light alone was enough to wake me. I listened for a moment for any noises. Hotels normally wait until a certain time before cleaning rooms, so they don't disturb people. I figured I had an hour at least to get out of here before cleaners started showing up. I showered thoroughly, taking advantage of the soap and shampoo. There were even some disposable razors under the sink. I opened the packed and gave my face a quick shave. I got rid of the stubble, tidying up my appearance. I threw the razor in the bin when I was finished. I packed up all my stuff, not forgetting the phone. It was fully charged now. I threw the charger back in my back and shoved the phone into my pocket. I deleted the recording from last night. Listening to it would only spark my anger. It was useless anyway. I decided I would go and confront Dennis. Call him out. Shoot him if necessary. Maybe. I was still unsure if it was a good option. Or an option at all. As I was leaving the room a lady with a cart yelled at me. "Hey! What are you doing there"!