Free 15 Seconds by Andrew Gross

I followed it up with, “Oh God . . .” as an unsettling thought formed in my mind. “You’ve got to tell Hallie, Liz. Before she hears it from her friends, or on Facebook or something. My name’s going to be all over the news, if it’s not already. By tonight, the whole damn world is going to know. They may already know! ”
    â€œAll right. I understand. You’re right. I’ll do it when we get off the phone. Speaking of which . . .” She paused, emphatically. “I see this isn’t your phone. Just whose are you calling me on?”
    I swallowed, knowing how this was about to go over. “Mike’s.”
    â€œMike’s!” She let a couple of seconds pass. “That’s a joke, right?”
    â€œNo, it’s not a joke, Liz. I realize how it looks, but how could I possibly use mine? I found it on his desk. And it’s not like I can deny ever going there. My DNA is all over his place. I thought it would buy me some time.”
    â€œ Some time? Jesus, Henry . . . And now, why do I think I already know the answer to my next question . . . ? Just whose car are you driving around in?”
    I felt an empty space in my stomach. This one would go over even worse. “It was better than my car, Liz. Every cop in Jacksonville was looking for mine!”
    â€œOh God, Henry . . . Just get your ass off the street. I don’t want to see you end up like Bonnie and Clyde. Go to a motel. Or a public space somewhere. Someplace you won’t have to show your ID. Let me talk to some people. I’ll be back with you soon as I can.”
    â€œLiz . . .” I said, stammering, a tide of emotion finally welling up inside me. It had been a long time since we had talked to each other like this—in what you might call friendship, even trust. “I can’t tell you how much . . . Just thank you, Liz. You must know how much this means to me . . .”
    â€œTwenty years, Henry . . .” Her voice seemed softer than I’d heard in years. “It’s not like we were enemies.”
    â€œNo, I guess you’re right. We weren’t.”
    â€œBut listen, Henry . . .”
    I hunched over as a police car sped by, hoping to hear something soft and compassionate from her, maybe I’m sorry about the way things turned out. “Yes . . .”
    â€œThat car you’re driving makes you look like a killer. I would ditch it as soon as you can.”

Chapter Ten
    S he was right. Mike’s Jag did make me look guilty.
    Guiltier.
    And it was only a matter of time before an APB was out on it as well. I had nowhere to go, but I had to get off the street until Liz could work a miracle. At least for a couple of hours. I had my iPad; that was one way to communicate. I just needed a safe place to hold out.
    I flicked on the radio and found a news channel. It took no more than a minute to hear the news I dreaded come on:
    â€œOur continuing story this morning is the execution-style slaying of a Jacksonville police officer off Lakeview Drive. Dr. Henry Steadman , a prominent South Florida surgeon . . .”
    A sickening feeling filled up my belly, my hands on my head. I couldn’t believe I was actually hearing my name in connection with a homicide investigation! A double homicide. It was only a matter of time until Mike was discovered—and his missing car. Okay, Henry, think—is there anyone else you know here you can trust? Was there anyone here whom I could count on? Just to stay off the streets. For a short while. Who would believe me?
    I thought of Richard Taylor, the head of the Doctors Without Borders conference who had invited me to speak tonight. But I didn’t want to involve him. I couldn’t ask that.
    Then Jennifer came to mind. Miss Jacksonville. I could explain it all to her. I knew she’d see me for who I was. Not some crazy cop killer. I