He was finishing up when Berman returned.
“You think Crane’s going to go after Tyler now?” Berman asked.
Masters didn’t answer. Instead he looked down at the picture of LuAnn Tyler staring back at him from the photo album. He now understood why she had been picked as a lottery winner. Why they had all been picked. He now had a much clearer idea of who LuAnn Tyler was and why she had done what she had. She had been destitute, stuck in a cycle of poverty, with an infant daughter. No hope. All of the chosen winners had shared this common denominator: no hope. They were ripe for this man’s scheme. Masters’s features betrayed the emotions he was feeling. Right at that very moment, and for a number of reasons, George Masters was starting to feel immense guilt.
It was nearing midnight when Riggs and LuAnn stopped at a motel. After checking in, Riggs phoned George Masters. The FBI agent had just returned from New York and he detailed to Riggs what had happened since they had last spoken. After receiving this briefing Riggs hung up the phone and looked over at a very anxious LuAnn.
“What happened? What did they say?”
Riggs shook his head. “As expected. Jackson wasn’t there, but they found enough evidence to keep him in prison for the rest of his life and then some. Including a scrapbook on all the lottery winners.”
“So he was related to Alicia Crane.”
Riggs nodded grimly. “Her older brother, Peter. Peter Crane is Jackson. Or at least everything points that way.”
LuAnn was wide-eyed. “Then he murdered his own sister.”
“Looks that way.”
“Because she knew too much? Because of Donovan?”
“Right. Jackson couldn’t take a chance on that. Maybe he shows up disguised or maybe as his true self. He gets what he wants out of her, maybe he tells her he killed Donovan. Who knows. She apparently was dating the guy. She might have gone nuts, threatened to go to the police. At some point he murdered her, I feel sure of that.”
LuAnn shuddered. “Where do you think he is?”
Riggs shrugged. “The Feds got to his house, but from the looks of the place the man has money to burn, a million different places he could go, a dozen faces and identities he could go there under. It’s not going to be easy to catch him.”
“To finish our deal?” LuAnn’s tone was slightly sarcastic.
“We handed the Feds his friggin’ identity. They’re at his ‘world’ headquarters right now. When I said we’d deliver him, I didn’t necessarily mean in a box with a ribbon on it, laid on the doorstep of the Hoover Building. As far as I’m concerned we’ve lived up to our end of the bargain.”
LuAnn let out a deep breath. “So does that mean everything’s square? With the FBI? And Georgia?”
“We’ll have some details to work out, but yeah, I think so. Unknown to them, I recorded the entire meeting at the Hoover Building. I’ve got Masters, the director of the FBI, and the attorney general of the United States herself, acting upon the authority of the president of the United States no less, all on tape agreeing to the deal I proposed. They’ve got to play straight with us now. But I’ve gotta be straight with you too. The IRS is going to put a big dent in your bank account. In fact after so many years of compounded penalties and interest, I’m not sure how much money you’re going to have left, if any.”
“I don’t care about that. I want to pay my taxes, even if it takes everything I’ve got. The truth is, I stole the money to begin with. I just want to know if I have to keep looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”
“You’re not going to prison, if that’s what you mean.” He touched her cheek with his hand. “You don’t look too happy.”
She blushed and smiled at him. “I am.” Her smile quickly faded though.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
She blurted out, “Until they catch Jackson, my life’s not worth spit. Or yours. Or Charlie’s.” Her lips trembled. “Or Lisa’s.” She suddenly jumped up and grabbed the phone.