Storm Warning
Page 5
“That’s Kirk Hansen, Reggie Hansen’s brother,” Lucy said.
“You sure?”
“I saw his mugshot in the file—he has a record. Crutcher was trying to find him for an interview, he fell off the map.”
“What was he in for?”
“Armed robbery, ten years ago. Pled and did a year back when he was twenty-one.”
“Maybe he just hasn’t been caught.”
A calm fell over Nate. He reminded Lucy so much of her brother Jack, even more than Sean’s brother Kane, who was always more intense. Jack and Nate could be just as intense, but when they were on a job, they had a calmness about them even at the height of danger. It reassured Lucy that they would find Bobby and bring him to safety.
“Our best bet is to go out the side door and around the back of the barn to the garage,” Nate said. “Based on what we saw, there should only be two people in the garage with the truck. Likely Hansen is telling the others they’re ready to go. They bought themselves some time with the flooding on 87, but they aren’t going to want to wait around. Every minute they lose means we have a better chance of tracking them.”
“We take those two out quietly,” Lucy said, “we might be able to get the others as they come out.”
“If they have the kid, you focus on him. Use those negotiation skills of yours. Bobby is our number-one priority.”
“Got it.”
They crossed over to the side door and out of the barn. They stayed as close to the side as possible, ran around the back, and Nate halted at the corner. “The girl is heading to the house. If we go around back, we should be out of sight of the door and surprise the driver.”
Lucy followed Nate. Ten seconds later, he had his gun on John Carr, who was removing the license plate from the front of the truck. “Don’t move,” Nate said. “Don’t speak. Search him.” Nate kept watch on the house while Lucy searched Carr. He had a handgun in the small of his back, which she confiscated. That was it. He’d already ditched his orange jumpsuit for clothes.
Lucy cuffed Carr to the door handle of the old truck.
“Well, shit,” Carr muttered.
“We’re made,” Nate said a moment before Lucy heard faint shouts and a door slam shut.
Carr said, “I’d suggest you skedaddle while you can. Sam isn’t a violent man, I swear to the Lord, and neither am I. But the rest of our family? They’re batshit crazy.”
Lucy looked him over. She didn’t see the resemblance to Sam Trembly, but Sam only had one brother. “Jacob Trembly, not John Carr,” she stated flatly. It was a guess, but she didn’t think she was wrong.
“Smart cookie. Now be smarter and get out of here.”
Nate ignored him. “The girls are safe, we find the boy.”
Jacob paled. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“What’d you think was going to happen when you attack three cops, escape custody, and take a family hostage?” Lucy snapped.
She needed to ignore him, because right now they were at a standoff of sorts. They didn’t know what the gang was going to do. The longer they stayed in the house the better chance backup would arrive, and that could put the boy in even greater danger.
“My guess is they’re going to make a run for it,” Lucy said to Nate. “That was the primary goal, and I don’t think anything has changed.”
“Okay. If the boy isn’t with them, we engage. If he’s with them, we negotiate.”
They waited only a minute before the front door opened. Hansen stepped out half carrying Bobby, his left arm around his waist, Bobby’s feet scrambling to find footing. Hansen had a gun in his hand. Three people emerged behind them, all women. An older woman and two young women. The short one had a bandage on her arm, blood seeping through. She was the one Nate had hit after she shot up Riley’s patrol.
“Well, shit,” Nate said. “Who’s that older woman?”
“Jacob, help yourself,” Lucy said. “You know we’re going to find out.”
“Our mother,” he mumbled.
“And the girls are your sisters?” It was a guess, but it made sense as soon as Lucy said it. She’d read the file and knew that the Trembly family was close and Crutcher hadn’t been able to track any of them down.
The Tremblys and Hansen were approaching their truck, the idea of stealing another gone. Unfortunately, they had Bobby with them.
“We can’t let them take the kid as a hostage,” Lucy said.
Nate took Jacob’s cuffs off the truck and cuffed his hands behind his back. “We’re going to track you down, all of you,” Nate said into his ear. “But if that kid is hurt in any way, I’ll shoot you.” He looked at Lucy and nodded.
Lucy focused her energy on Bobby and defusing this situation before anyone got hurt.
They stepped out of the garage. Nate had Jacob in front of them, holding him tight with one hand, his gun in the other. Nate looked every bit the soldier he had been.
The gang was climbing into the truck from the house side, using the vehicle as a shield. The older sister slid over to the driver’s seat.
“Stop!” Lucy shouted. “We’ll trade your brother for the boy.”
Hansen shoved Bobby into the backseat and followed him. The younger sister climbed in as well, the boy between them. Where was Sam Trembly? Still in the house? Was he circling around?
“Trembly’s not there,” Lucy said to Nate. She called out to the gang, “We’re not playing games. All we want is that little boy to be safe.”
Jacob’s mother stepped in front of the truck. She showed no fear that two armed FBI agents had a gun on her and held her son as prisoner.
“Chica, you bring my boy to the truck and I’ll turn over the kid.”
“I’ll meet you halfway,” she said.
“I don’t like this, Luce,” Nate said.
“Options? Anything?”
He had none. Neither did she.
She took ahold of Jacob’s restraints and walked with him ten yards toward the truck. His mother stood smugly. Lucy was betting that family would win out, that they wouldn’t shoot their brother to kill her. Jacob had gotten himself arrested to pass information to his brother—that was the only reason she could see that he would do such a thing—and they had this escape well planned. The flooded jail. The spike strips. Disabling a major road drainage system to prevent law enforcement from reaching them quickly. You didn’t plan an elaborate escape only to kill your team.
She didn’t give up her weapon; she didn’t like this any more than Nate, but she couldn’t forget Bobby’s terrified and determined face. That kid was her focus, though he was now out of her line of sight.
She stopped twenty yards from the truck. “Your turn,” she called out. “Let Bobby go.”
“You for him,” Mrs. Trembly said. “I’m not going to ask twice.”
Lucy looked the woman in the eye. She didn’t bat an eye.
“Let him out first.”
“You’re not in charge here. My son is unarmed. You can’t shoot him.”
“He’s an escaped prisoner. I’ll take my chances with the review board.”
Mrs. Trembly’s lips tightened. “You hurt my boy, you answer to me.”
“Let Bobby go. When he’s safe, I’ll come.”
She knew it was dangerous, but if she let them take a little boy into this storm, what would happen if they left him in the middle of nowhere? Or worse. They could kill him.
Or you.
“Time’s up, Agent.”
“Let Bobby out.”
Someone was watching her. She had an odd sense, as she always did when something was amiss. This wasn’t Nate—she knew how it felt now to be watched by someone on her team. This was different.
She glanced behind her a second too late. Sam Trembly was there with a gun on her back. “Drop your gun or you’re dead.”
She dropped her gun. She hadn’t heard a gunshot, and she didn’t see any blood on Sam. What happened to Nate? He’d been right behind her!
“Let the kid go. Please,” Lucy said. “You don’t want a little kid—”
“Shut up. Jacob, let’s go. Get in the back.”
Sam pushed Lucy into the backseat. Kirk Hansen took her arm and held a gun to her head. “Don’t be a hero, because you’ll be dead.”
Bobby was cowering on the floor.
Sam got into the driver’s side as the older sister slid over.
Suddenly Mrs. Trembly collapsed in the middle of the driveway. A drenched man Lucy had never seen before, with fear and anger etched into his face, ran toward the truck. He fired at the truck.
“Shit!” Sam said.
That had to be Bobby’s dad. Sam sped out of the driveway full speed. Lucy looked through the side window and saw Nate staggering from the garage, his badge in hand. He was shouting at Bobby’s father, but Lucy couldn’t hear him. Sam sped around the bend, then turned off on a side road.
“Jacob’s not in the back!” SueAnn said. “You left him!”
“That was the kid’s father. Dammit, he got the drop on us. All this bullshitting around. I told you to let the kid go as soon as we had Jacob.”
“Your ma said no,” Hansen said.
“And now she’s dead!”
Lucy didn’t think that the woman was dead, but she’d been shot, and Lucy had no idea what happened to Jacob. All she saw was a blur as Sam drove away.
“Mandy! Get the map!”
Amanda Trembly was in the passenger seat trying not to cry. She fumbled for a map. Lucy looked over and realized it was extensive and someone had written a lot of notes along the roads.
“A hard right will take us to the creek. There’s several roads through there, but with the storm Jacob said we might not be able to pass over. Most of the roads you can only use when there’s no water, but there are two small bridges. One is just wood, the other is wood and metal, but it’s old. Jacob checked them out yesterday morning, they were fine, but with the water—”
“Get me to the closest one.”
“Let Bobby and me out,” Lucy said.
SueAnn slapped her. “Who said you could talk?” She slapped her again. “That’s for your boyfriend shooting me.”
“Leave her alone!” Sam ordered. “Damn, someone’s following us.”
He made a hard right and Lucy had no idea where they were. The road wasn’t paved—the rain had made the hard earth soft and muddy, but not muddy enough to get them stuck.
Lucy resisted the urge to rub her face where SueAnn had hit her. It was sore, raw, and she tasted blood.
Sam was furious and worried. Lucy couldn’t shake what Jacob had said: that Sam wasn’t violent. Was that the truth? Or just fast talking by an escaped convict?
“He’s gaining, Sam!” Kirk Hansen said.
“Shut up and let me drive,” Sam said.
“He shot Ma. What if . . . ?”
“She’s fine. It hit her calf. We’ll deal with Ma later, okay?”
“I can’t believe you left her.”
“What was I supposed to do? If we’d have just driven straight through, none of this would have happened, but you had to come up with some stupid-ass plan to swap cars when there was no fucking need to!”
“Don’t yell at me,” Amanda pouted. “I came up with the idea to flood the jail. I figured out how to divert the drainage system on the highway. And Jacob thought that swapping cars would buy us time. I was at that house this morning—they were packing up. I thought they were going on a trip, or to get away from the storm. How was I to know they didn’t actually go?”
Sam took a deep breath, slowly let it out. He was wrestling with his anger. It was a very interesting sibling dynamic, Lucy thought. She was the youngest of seven. She could see this family, dysfunctional as it was, as a unit. And Sam was the leader. Even SueAnn, who—just like Jacob said—was half-crazy, listened to him.
“The breakout was brilliant, Mandy. I mean that. But sometimes you let your brains get ahead of you. Simpler is usually better, okay?”
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her stomach and shifted in her seat.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No—just feel sick. We left Jacob.”
“We didn’t have a choice. I’ll figure it out. I promise.”
“I know you will, Sam, but—I miss Reggie.”
“Me too.”
Interesting, Lucy thought. Had Amanda been in love with Reggie?
Kirk said, “We can kill the hostages and dump them out.”
“Shit, what did I say? Kill a cop, and everything is ten times worse. And I’m not killing a kid.”
Sam followed the road as it sharply turned, then suddenly veered off the road—a tree limb had fallen across the path. For a second Lucy thought they were stuck in mud, then the gears kicked in and they spun out of it, and Sam turned back up to the road.
She held tight to Bobby. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in his ear.
“Don’t lie to the kid,” SueAnn said.
“I have an idea,” Amanda said. “Dump them.”
“Yeah!” SueAnn said with a wicked smile. “Finally, I get to shoot someone.”
“No,” Sam and Amanda said simultaneously.
Amanda continued, “Half a mile, we’ll be close to the river. The first bridge isn’t much farther. If we toss them out, the fed chasing us will stop to get them. It’ll give us time to get away. Once we get over the bridge, we have five different ways we can go. They won’t know which one, and they’re not going to take the kid with them looking for us.”
Amanda was actually very smart, Lucy thought. Nate wouldn’t pursue armed suspects with a child in the car.
“We toss the kid only,” Kirk said. “We need a hostage.”
“No,” Amanda said. “We keep her, we’re going to be in a whole lick of trouble. We need to travel light. We have a plan, remember?”
“Toss the kid, kill the cop.”
“Shut up, Kirk,” Sam said. “Okay. Next bend, throw them out. No guns, SueAnn, or I swear, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Party pooper,” SueAnn pouted.
Lucy hated the plan. Not only because it was dangerous for her and Bobby, but also because she didn’t trust Kirk and SueAnn.
As they rounded the bend, Lucy thought that Sam was bluffing. That he wouldn’t actually have her and Bobby thrown from the truck.
She was wrong.
“Do it,” Sam ordered.
Kirk opened the rear door of the truck and said, “Jump.”
Lucy held tight to Bobby. “Don’t—”
SueAnn pulled her gun. “Ten, nine, three, two . . .” She jumped numbers quickly.
She aimed.
Lucy said, “Slow down, please!”
Sam took his foot off the gas just a fraction.
“One!” SueAnn grinned.
Lucy didn’t close her eyes. She couldn’t, she had to know where she was falling. She held Bobby close to her chest and dropped away from the truck.
She hit hard in the mud and Bobby fell from her grasp. They started rolling quickly down toward the roaring creek. “Grab the bush!” she screamed but didn’t know if Bobby heard her.
He clawed at the roots of a half-submerged bush and held on. She reached for the bush next to him. Touched it. Held on tight. Slowed her descent. The muddy creek slapped at her legs, seeming to rise with each passing second. Debris hit her as it went past. Pain radiated up her legs even as they went numb from the cold water.
The bush pulled out of the saturated ground and she started down toward the surging water.
“Hold on!” she yelled at Bobby. “Help is coming. Hold tight!”
Then the current took her downstream.
Lucy was a strong swimmer, but fighting the current to get back to the side would quickly exhaust her. She let the water take her, focusing on keeping her head above water. Her Kevlar
vest weighed her down, but she couldn’t maneuver to get it off. She focused on staying above water.
The creek hadn’t topped its banks yet, but it was close, making it difficult for her to find anything to grab on to. There were few trees, and those that were along the banks were short, scraggly, and too far from the edge for her to reach.
She tried to see where she was going, but only saw water and dark skies. A piece of fence rushed by her; she tried to grab it to help her stay afloat but missed.
Lucy felt more than saw that the creek was turning. There was a bend up ahead, and if she could stay to the left, she might be able to hit the side and find something to hold on to.
Her body ached as she fought to swim. She stayed with the current as best she could while still moving left. Then she saw the edge. She reached up, knowing that if she didn’t grab something she would be swept farther downstream, and would most likely drown. She prayed that Bobby was still holding on to that bush, that Nate got him to safety. A child wouldn’t survive this.
Lucy realized she might not survive.
You’re not going to die today.
Her hand brushed against a bush and couldn’t get it. The bend was only thirty feet, she didn’t have much time. She clawed at the side of the creek; mud came off in handfuls. There was nothing to hold!
Her leg slammed into a rock beneath the surface and she cried out, drawing water into her mouth. She sputtered, willed herself not to panic. Then she saw the tree.
It was a small tree, low to the ground, with a trunk made up of several small trunks. The trunk was halfway submerged and the tree was leaning. Her weight might completely break it loose, but she had to try. It would at least slow her down and wasn’t far from the edge of the bank. Against all survival instincts, she stopped fighting the current. She whirled through the water, her eyes on the tree. As soon as it was within her grasp she lunged to the left and grabbed the leaves. They were sharp and cut through her skin, but she held on. Pulled herself over to it and hugged the tree, one hand on the twisted trunk, the other on the branches.
She took a second to catch her breath. She was coughing and she’d swallowed some water, but she wanted to shout for joy: The tree took her weight. It was still rooted.