The Sin Eater

by Lee McIntyre

  Lisa punched in the numbers. “Sorry, it’s busy.”

  “Busy? Who gets a busy signal anymore?”

  Lisa put the cell phone up to his ear. “Listen.”

  “Adam, we’ve got to go,” Tugg said.

  Adam finally stood. He took a few steps toward the door, then stopped. “Call again.”

  Lisa nodded and grabbed the receiver on the landline.

  Adam shook his head and pointed to the cell phone.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I keep forgetting. That line is dead.”

  Chapter 68

  Cold air cut into the seams of Adam’s leather jacket as they passed Government Camp and approached the final turnoff. It smelled like Christmas.

  Timberline Lodge, five miles.

  Headlights on, Tugg was out front as usual, but Adam kept the throttle open as his motorcycle hugged the serpentine road. Sheer dropoffs appeared without warning every few feet, and he could see the tops of 70-foot Douglas fir trees peeking over the rim. No guardrail. Wasn’t this where they’d filmed The Shining?

  Only one way up or down. They hadn’t passed anyone yet. They’d run into security eventually. Timberline Lodge was a turkey shoot.

  As Adam remembered, the Lodge had three parking lots. Long ones, stretching all the way up the last part of the hill as you approached the main building. Hordes of tourists normally filled them up in the daytime, but tonight a sign hung above the lower lot.

  Closed for Private Event.

  Up ahead Adam could see the security barrier at the upper lot, with a couple of cops checking IDs and waving people through. Lincoln Navigators, Mercedes, BMWs, and Lexuses scattered the parking lot. By the looks of things, the event hadn’t started yet.

  “Turn around,” Tugg said. “Let’s leave the bikes at the bottom of the lower lot.”

  Adam made a loop and followed Tugg down the hill, as the lights from the security perimeter winked out behind them. They pulled up side by side in the last parking spaces.

  “So do we have a plan for what to do once we get up there?” Adam said.

  “We find the Governor and we make him talk.”

  “Bullshit,” Adam said. “That’s not a plan.”

  Tugg looked annoyed. “Haven’t you learned anything yet? Too much planning gets you locked in. We’ll see our opportunities and we’ll grab ’em.”

  Adam hesitated. “That sounds pretty half-baked.”

  “You got a better plan?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. We’ve not only got to find the Governor, we’ve got to get him alone, so —”

  Tugg held his hand out flat. “Let’s just think about how to get in first. That’s my wheelhouse. After that, you’re on.”

  “Okay,” Adam said. He got off his bike and took a few steps up the asphalt.

  “Hold on there, my man,” Tugg said. “We should probably go up top, then drop down.”

  “You mean up the mountain?”

  “Yeah, you’re lucky it ain’t winter.” Tugg was in his ditty bag now, tossing out some gear. “And you’ll need this.” Tugg handed Adam the Glock 27 and put the Glock 23 in his own waistband.

  Adam looked at the weapon in his hands. “Back to Plan Z?”

  “No, we’re past that. This is Plan S. Survival. You’re one of the most wanted men in Oregon right now, and those cops up there will shoot you on sight. You need something to protect yourself, if things go hinky.”

  “It’s so small.”

  “Bullshit. It’s a 40 caliber, same as mine. Adam, do not underestimate this gun. Full frame or subcompact, it’s still a Glock.”

  Adam felt the grip against his palm and aimed the barrel up the mountain while he looked down the sight.

  “You know how to shoot that?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Adam replied.

  “It ain’t a revolver. It’s loaded and a round is already chambered. That means it’s cocked. And remember there’s no external safety on a Glock. There are three internal ones, but you won’t even feel ’em, so don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.”

  Adam nodded and tucked the gun into the interior pocket of his jacket. Tugg took off his biker vest and put on a black leather jacket to match his black jeans, backpack, and boots.

  “No one will catch us if we’re quiet,” Tugg said, stepping onto the pumice stone just off the asphalt. “Follow me straight up, then we’ll cut over and drop behind the lodge. If we’re lucky, they won’t see us coming. After that, we’ll need to improvise.”

  Adam blew in his hands and zipped up his jacket. “We definitely aren’t dressed for the guest list,” he said.

  “This’ll either work or it won’t.”

  “What if it doesn’t?” Adam said, as he followed Tugg’s footsteps up the crunching slope.

  “Why do you think I gave you the Glock?”

  Chapter 69

  The door handle gave way and Tugg motioned for Adam to follow.

  “Just a second, Tugg. Shit.”

  They were standing at the ski entrance at the back of the building, in the shadow of a brilliant cone of light that was pouring from the Great Hall windows two stories above, bright enough to make the grey stones on the mountain appear white.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “It can’t be that easy.”

  “We aren’t inside yet.”

  Adam hesitated.

  “Look, Adam, this ain’t exactly the Secret Service we’re dealing with here. And this isn’t Camp David. The Governor usually travels with a single police escort. They aren’t expecting a terrorist attack.”

  “Then why all those cops outside?”

  “You ever hear of overtime? The police union? They’ve probably got some state regulation about how many cops they need at a public gathering. And look at all those cars. I saw four limos. VIPs like to get a little special treatment before they give their money away. Trust me, the security is mostly for show.”

  Adam felt sick to his stomach. The cops still had guns and badges, didn’t they? And he was still on their wanted list.

  “Trust me Adam. This is my thing. I know you’re all bad ass now, but I’m back okay? I know law enforcement. I’m not gonna let you down.”

  Tugg slipped in the door.

  Chapter 70

  “Where’s our goddamned shrimp?”

  They were standing in a dimly lit industrial kitchen, empty except for the tall maître d’, who was standing on the back stairway glaring at them.

  “And who, might I ask, are you two?”

  Tugg stood there like he owned the place. “They told us we could get some shrimp. It’s cold outside. I ain’t gonna wait out there all night. I know I can’t come in the front door, but the Penningtons said we could get some food once things got started. These things always have shrimp, don’t they? I want some fucking shrimp.”

  Adam’s breath was gone, but he noticed that the maître d’ suddenly seemed a little winded himself.

  “Well, there is some shrimp upstairs. Who did you say you were with?”

  “The Penningtons,” Tugg continued. “The big Lexus limo outside? You don’t think they drove up here alone, do you?”

  “You’re the limo driver?”

  “Do I look like a limo driver?”

  Tugg was playing it perfectly. They might not find the governor, but Adam would bet his ass they were going to get some shrimp.

  “We’re the motorcycle escort,” Tugg said.

  “Where are your badges and sidearms?” the maître d’ asked.

  “We’re not cops,” Adam managed.

  “Look, ain’t you ever heard of a private detail?” Tugg said. He walked over to the giant refrigerator and opened it.

  “Wait, don’t do that.” The maître d’ rushed down three steps, then froze. “We aren’t using this kitchen tonight anyway. The caterers are in the serving kitchen, just off the ballroom upstairs. I can get you some shrimp.”

  Tugg closed the refrigerator and spun
around. “Okay, but we ain’t gonna eat it outside.”

  “Or here,” Adam added.

  Tugg looked at him and nodded. Pity they didn’t give an Academy Award for bullshit.

  “Okay, follow me. I can put you in one of the offices upstairs. I’ll bring you some plates, but then you’ve got to stay put, all right? I can’t have you wandering around upstairs.”

  “You feed me and I’m golden,” Tugg said. “I’m used to pulling my dick for three hours waiting on people, but I gotta eat something. I got a blood sugar problem. You want to see me get upset?”

  The maître d’ held out his hands. “Please, just come with me. I’ll put you in one of the small offices, so we don’t have to walk past the ballroom. I’ll bring you your shrimp. But after that, I’m frightfully busy until this thing is done. You’ll have to stay put.”

  “Said we would, didn’t I?”

  As the maître d’ started up the stairs, Tugg looked over his shoulder and gave Adam a neat grin.

  After Tugg had sucked down his fifteenth shrimp, he stood up and put his boots back on. “He’s gone. Let’s roll.”

  Adam set his untouched plate on the corner of the desk. “Okay the good news is I’ve been here before. Last Christmas.”

  “Great, so you know where the ballroom is?”

  “Too easy. What we need is to find the room where the governor’s gonna be.” Adam saw that Tugg looked confused. “Before the event.”

  Tugg shook his head, thinking.

  “His tux,” Adam said. “He needs a place to change, right? This is a fundraiser. He’ll need a room to get dressed before and to schmooze with some of his high rollers afterward.”

  “Like where?”

  “The manager’s office.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 71

  The room smelled rank, but with the lights off Adam couldn’t identify the source of the odor. Maybe it was the 50-year-old moose head on the wall above the huge mahogany desk that stood in front of the stone fireplace. Maybe it was the three-cigar-a-day habit of the hotel manager, who sat in this office eight hours a day, when the Governor’s staff wasn’t commandeering it as a secure location for His Honor.

  Adam crouched behind the desk, waiting for the sliver of light under the door to break, indicating footsteps in the hallway. Although Adam couldn’t see him, he knew that Tugg was standing right beside that door, ready to disarm anyone who came in unannounced or, Adam hoped, grab the Governor when he walked in looking for his tux, which Adam had found hanging on the back of the door.

  Adam felt the reassuring bulge of the Glock in his pocket and admitted that Tugg had been right. This was the big leagues. If they were caught or killed, what would happen to Emma? But if Castro was right and Emma was missing, they had no time to be cautious. Was Emma safe? Had someone moved her? They had to get the Governor to talk, and worry about picking up the pieces later.

  After Adam had led them to the manager’s office, they’d only had time for a few quick whispers.

  “He should be alone while he’s dressing,” Tugg said. “But whichever way this goes, getting in was a piece of cake compared to getting out. Once we hear what we need, we’ve gotta get back to the bikes.” Tugg took one last look at Adam before he killed the lights. “What?”

  “We’ve also got to keep him quiet while we escape.”

  “You let me worry about that.”

  All they could do now was wait.

  Adam couldn’t hear a sound from the hallway. The 80-year-old lodge was famous for its solid construction. Stone foundation. Old growth Douglas fir beams. Mortar in every crack. During the Depression, the out-of-work Civilian Conservation Corps men had nothing better to do than build it right.

  It was getting late. Surely the Governor wouldn’t be able to start the event without coming here first.

  A light flickered under the doorway.

  Was it finally him? Or maybe the maître d’ had missed his wayward shrimp lovers.

  The door swung open and light flooded the room.

  Peter Beauchamp went down hard.

  Chapter 72

  The Chief of Staff rolled over in agony and looked up at two Glocks pointed directly at his face.

  “Where the hell is my daughter?” Adam said, taking charge.

  “What daughter? Who are you guys?” Peter Beauchamp was in obvious pain, but his attention was riveted.

  Tugg rushed over and shut the door, then turned back to Adam. “Keep him on his back and make it quick. He knows or he doesn’t.”

  Adam held the cool barrel against Beauchamp’s eye.

  The barking, imperious Chief of Staff was gone, replaced by a 30-year-old kid. “What do you want from me?” Tears rolled down his scarlet cheeks.

  “Emma Grammaticus. I’m her dad. You tell me where she is, or I’ll end you right here.”

  “How should I know?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Tugg said. “And hurry.”

  Adam pulled the gun back and leaned down. “We know everything about the Indian kids and the cover-up. And the money. You guys are toast once it hits the papers. Impeachment. Prison. But right now you’ve got bigger worries.”

  A shadow crossed the kid’s face. The Chief of Staff was back. “You shoot that gun and a dozen cops will be here in ten seconds.”

  “Well shit,” Tugg said. He rushed over and put a knee on Beauchamp’s chest. “Adam, get over by the door. Lock it. Son, you just pissed me off.”

  Even though he was bound and gagged, Peter Beauchamp made no attempt to scream. He didn’t dare.

  Beauchamp’s pants were in a bundle around his ankles as Tugg held the Ka-Bar tight against the base of his penis.

  “I don’t give a shit now whether you know or not,” Tugg growled. He angled the knife as if he were getting ready to saw the drumstick off a Thanksgiving turkey, when Beauchamp started to nod violently.

  “Yes?” Tugg removed the gag and a rivulet of spit spilled from Beauchamp’s mouth.

  “I swear to God, I don’t know about any conspiracy. I just did what they told me.”

  “Wrong answer.”

  “I swear it!”

  “You got balls, kid. Unfortunately, those are next.”

  “No! Don’t you think I’d tell you? I always felt like there was something going on, but I had nothing to do with it! I don’t know where his daughter is. They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  What does he mean,“they?” Adam thought.

  “What the fuck?” Tugg said. He pulled his hand back quickly and glared down at Beauchamp. “So who does know? The Governor?”

  Beauchamp nodded. At least it looked like a nod. He was trembling all over.

  “Where is the Governor right now?”

  “Upstairs, with the First Lady. He sent me down to get his tux.”

  “He’s lying,” Adam said from the door.

  “I don’t think so,” Tugg said, standing.

  “How do you know?”

  Tugg reached down and wiped his hand on the carpet. “Because it’s very hard to lie to someone when you’re pissing yourself.”

  Chapter 73

  The lights were off again. Peter Beauchamp lay behind the desk, quietly whimpering beside the stone fireplace. Tugg had pulled his pants back up, but the gag was back in place too, joined by a black hood tied around the Chief of Staff’s neck.

  Adam and Tugg both waited by the door, which Adam had unlocked.

  Beauchamp’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket across the room.

  “50/50 that the next person through that door is the Governor,” Adam said. “And I’ll bet he’s pissed.”

  The faint sound of voices caught Adam’s attention, then grew louder. When they stopped, Adam thought he heard soft steps shuffling on the carpet outside.

  The door opened. “Peter? What the hell? Are you in here?”

  Tugg practically lifted the man out of his shoes and snatched him into the room, while Adam shut the door.

  “
Lock it again,” Tugg said, pushing the man face down onto the carpet.

  Adam secured the bolt and turned on the lights.

  Tugg rolled the man over. “Governor, your day just went to shit.”

  The backpack was open again.

  “This time I’m doing it,” Adam said.

  The zip ties were easy, but the gag wasn’t yet in place.

  “Now wait. Wait!”

  Adam hit the man’s face so hard he wondered if he’d knocked him unconscious. He stood over the Governor and put a foot on his throat. “You’ve got two minutes. You know who we are, right?”

  A blood vessel had burst in his right eye, but the Governor turned his head carefully and nodded.

  “You took my daughter,” Adam said. “You put her in foster care on a trumped-up abuse charge from my nanny. You remember her? The same one whose brother you just let out of prison? Quid pro quo, I guess. But I’m way past ‘why.’ I just want my kid.”

  The Governor let out a groan and rolled onto his stomach.

  Peter Beauchamp gave a muffled cry from behind the desk.

  The Governor sat up. “What did you do to him?”

  “Not nearly enough,” Tugg said.

  “Cut the shit,” Adam broke in. “We know about the Indian money. And we know you snatched my daughter to distract people from that. But Lisa Castro says Emma isn’t in protective custody anymore. What’ve you done with her?”

  The Governor lay there like a wounded elk. “I haven’t done anything with her,” he said. “If CPS doesn’t know where she is, why should I?”

  Adam smashed his fist into the Governor’s jaw again. He rolled over and spit blood.

  “Take it easy,” Tugg said.

  The Governor was breathing hard. His words came in a slur. “Look, my money’s in a blind trust. How should I know anything?”

  “Who said anything about your money?” Adam asked.

  The Governor tightened his jaw.

  “Okay, we’re gonna have to do this the hard way again,” Tugg said. He stepped over to the door and reached for his backpack.