Edge of Mercy (A Kate Reid Novel Book 11) by Robin Mahle (reader novel .TXT) 📗

reports. He knew they were after him, although they had been looking for Dr. Theodore Bishop.

He tossed his bag onto the bed and reached inside, pulling out his EMT certificate. It would take time and meticulous care, but it was possible to alter the name on the certificate. While that alone wouldn’t be enough because it would only take a quick search on the database to see it had been falsified, it could be enough to get him in the door outside the country.

He could use his alias passport to purchase a bus ticket to Mexico where the forged EMT certificate wouldn’t be questioned. It was extreme, but the time for extreme measures had arrived.

Bishop pulled back the heavy curtain and gazed out into the parking lot. Streetlamps flickered on and dusk had appeared. No doubt it was best to travel by night. His face was on the news and that would be his biggest hurdle to overcome. Bishop reached into a grocery bag and pulled out a bottle of hair dye and a hair trimmer. His dark roots had already begun to grow in, and the lighter brown color of Eli Parnell’s passport photo needed to be touched up. Maybe something shorter would do as well. He’d already started growing the dark stubble on his chin.

As night settled in, Bishop, with his shorter, lighter hair and thick 5 o’clock shadow, threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the Super 8 to hail a cab.

“The bus depot on Cheltenham, please.” He slipped onto the backseat.

Coverage of his story had been thankfully brief in the wake of a recent shooting that had taken place the night before in Charlotte. The tragedy offered him a better chance of making it out.

The driver paid him no attention and it was less likely utilizing a cab would be traceable back to him. Ubers and Lyfts and those sorts of rideshares required online payments, names, and the online accounts. A cab meant he could pay with cash leaving no trail except that the driver had picked up a man with light brown hair at a Super 8 motel in Raleigh under the name of Parnell.

The bus depot was ahead, and the driver pulled to the curb where passengers disembarked. “That’ll be $27.58, sir.” He turned back to Bishop.

“Keep the change.” Bishop handed him a 20 and a 10 and quickly stepped out so as not to let the driver get a better look at him. He hurried into the station and pulled on a ballcap and raised the collar of his jacket. He’d already done this once and got away clean. He could do it again.

Bishop approached the counter. “I’d like to purchase a ticket to Nuevo Laredo, please.”

“You’re traveling into Mexico?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll need to see your passport, and you’ll have to purchase a round-trip ticket unless you have a visa to remain in Mexico. Either the FM2 or FM3.”

Bishop hadn’t considered the legal requirements to stay in Mexico and he had neither of these visas. “I only intend on staying a few weeks.”

“Then you’ll only need to purchase a roundtrip ticket and provide your passport.” The man waited for Bishop. “Sir? Do you need assistance?”

“No. Sorry.” He set down his passport on the table. “How much for the roundtrip ticket?”

“$465, sir,” the man replied.

He retrieved his wallet and counted the cash before pushing it toward the man behind the desk. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” The man held the passport and examined it while studying Bishop. “Remove your baseball hat, please, sir.”

He pulled off the hat. “I just got my hair cut.” This was taking too long and Bishop’s nerves stood on end.

The man finally turned back to his computer and scanned the passport. A few more clicks and a ticket printed. “Here you are, sir. Your passport and your tickets. The bus leaves in 90 minutes. You’ll need to change buses twice. Have a nice trip.”

Bishop felt the relief swell in his chest as he returned his passport to his bag and picked up the tickets. “Thank you.”

It was Levi Walsh’s job to reach out to the local authorities whenever they entered into a jurisdiction in search of a suspect. When the team, including Agent Palmero, arrived in Raleigh, they drove straight to the police department headquartered in downtown. The time was approaching 9pm and the call had been made of their impending arrival.

Lieutenant Jackson waited for them in the lobby. “I’ll bet that’s them.” He said to the officer behind the desk. “They sure as shit look like Feds, anyway.”

The doors parted and Palmero led the way. The lieutenant approached first, but Palmero made the introduction. “You must be Lieutenant Jackson. I’m Agent Palmero, FBI Houston office, and these are the good folks from the FBI in Quantico helping me track down a dangerous suspect.” Palmero introduced the team and turned back to the lieutenant. “You have a man here who has already killed at least 6 that we know of, and we’re pretty sure he’s not finished.”

“What can we do to help?” Jackson stood firmly and peered at the agents through narrow eyes with ham hands pressed against his thick waist.

“We’d like a team to help scour your city’s CCTV footage. Right now, we have no idea where he is, but we know he’s here.”

“That’ll take time and a lot of resources,” the lieutenant replied.

“Yes, it will.” Palmero looked back at the team. “We’ll be right beside your people to help get it done. There’s no time to waste. We know this man and we know he won’t stay in one place for long.”

“Fair enough. I’ll put my best people on it.”

The central headquarters of the police station in a big city like Raleigh had the equipment and the people to expedite the operation. The focus was to be on the bus depot to determine when Bishop, aka Parnell, had arrived and if he used a cab. The video surveillance footage would reveal that information.

The