The Sam Prichard Series - Books 9-12 (Sam Prichard Boxed Set 3)

by David Archer

  "Nobody outside my family. You’ll be safe there. The only neighbors are deer and rabbits, and I don’t think they’re going to bother you very much."

  "Do I need to pick up any supplies?"

  "Might be a good idea," Sam said. He glanced around at the store that was the office of the gas station. "We can probably get most of what you might need here. I think, once we get there, you might want to just stay put and keep that van out of sight."

  "That sounds like a plan to me," Marty said. "I can get by with ramen noodles and canned spaghetti for a while, as long as I’ve got coffee and sugar."

  They finished pumping their gas and went into the store. Marty gathered up several days’ worth of food and snacks, then took it all to the register. A bored clerk checked him out and stuffed it all into bags. Five minutes later, they were back on the road.

  They were almost to the exit they would have to take to get to the cabin when Sam’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, so he answered cautiously. "Prichard," he said.

  "It’s me," Indie said. "We’re going to…"

  "Don’t tell me," Sam said quickly. "Jerry could have my number tapped by now, and I don’t want anyone to know where you are. Have you got the GPS turned off on that phone?"

  "First thing I did. I’m also bouncing it through a couple of VoIP servers, something even Herman would have trouble tracing. Nobody can get a location on me, I promise."

  Sam smiled into the phone. "That’s my girl," he said. "Let’s keep it that way. This thing is bad enough that there’s no doubt in my mind Jerry would try to use you against me if he got the chance."

  "Can you tell me now what’s going on? This is scaring me, Sam."

  "I’ll give you the short version. Marty is in possession of a video showing Jerry Lemmons and four other cops committing murder. The victims were three teenagers, and one of them is the girl who went missing a couple weeks back. I don’t have all the details yet, but somehow they found out the video exists and they want it pretty badly. Tracy got involved just to try to help Marty out, but when she went to a cop she knew for help, it turns out it was Lemmons himself. My guess is they’ve got Tracy stashed away somewhere, hoping to use her as leverage against Marty, to make him surrender the video."

  "But if he does, then he and Tracy are both dead. Right?"

  "No doubt about it," Sam said. "That video is the only reason they’re both probably alive right now, and Marty was smart enough to have a copy stashed somewhere that they can’t get to even if they kill him. He was supposed to surrender it a few days ago, but Tracy told him to run and hide. That would have been the day she disappeared."

  "And with Lemmons running the investigation, it’s easy for him to keep saying that the two of them just ran away together. Heather was right, but no one is going to believe a fourteen-year-old girl."

  "Exactly, and that’s what Lemmons is counting on. He’s the investigating detective, so his word will be final on it until the truth comes to light. I’m stashing Marty in the safest place I can think of, and then Lemmons and I are going to have a little talk. I hope to convince him that the copy I’ve got is the only one, get him to give up Tracy in exchange for it. Once I’ve got her out and safe, then I’ll deal with exposing the truth."

  "Oh, Sam," Indie said, "you just be careful. Murderers are bad enough, but cops who murder are far more dangerous than anyone else.”

  “Think I don’t know that? Trust me, babe, I don’t plan to give them a chance at me. As long as I know you’re safe, there isn’t much they can use against me. You just stay put, and I’ll call you when I know something more."”

  “Okay, baby. Stay safe.” The line went dead again.

  Sam turned off on the exit a few moments later, with Marty right on his tail. The smaller roads that led to his father’s old cabin slowed them down a bit, and Sam was able to watch the road behind them in the mirror. He saw no signs they were being followed, and begin to relax just a bit.

  Forty-five minutes later, Sam winced as the bottom of the Corvette dragged over occasional rocks in the rutted gravel road that led to the cabin. Because it was in such bad shape, he was forced to move at a snail’s pace. When he finally got to the cabin and parked in its driveway, he breathed a sigh of relief that the mufflers still seemed to be intact.

  Marty parked beside him and Sam let him inside, pulling the string that turned on the single electric light bulb in the combined living room and kitchen. The cabin was a little dusty, since no one had been there in almost a year, but at least it was solid and safe from the elements. Marty carried in the bags of groceries and snacks, setting them on the old wooden table in the kitchen area.

  He stared at the old hand pump over the kitchen sink. “Rustic," he said. "I don’t suppose there’s any hot water for a shower?"

  Sam grinned at him. "I’m afraid not," he said. He opened a cabinet, then pulled out a large kettle and set it on the counter beside the sink. “Fill that up from the pump and heat it on the stove. There’s a big washtub, almost as big as a bathtub, on the back porch. By the time you heat up a couple of kettles of water and add some cold water to get the temperature where you want it, you can take a pretty nice bath. There’s a bedroom through that door, and two more up in the loft."

  Marty rolled his eyes but didn’t make any comments. Sam showed him around the rest of the cabin and got him settled in.

  “I want you to stay here and keep out of sight until I come for you," Sam said. “Now that you’re hidden away, I’m going to try to convince Lemmons that you hired me to negotiate the surrender of the video. I’ll offer to trade it for Tracy, and once she and her family are also safe, then we’ll get it to the people who will actually take action on it. There’s nothing I hate more than a dirty cop, and these bastards are going down."

  “Okay,” Marty said. “What makes you think he’ll go along with it?”

  “Simple,” Sam said. “I need a copy of the video to show him. If I can convince him it’s the only copy, then there’s a chance this will actually work.”

  Marty shook his head. “No way,” he said. “I told you, the only copy that exists right now is on a secret server on the Internet, and I’m the only one who knows the link. You might be a great guy and all, but if I give up that link I’m a dead man.”

  “I don’t need your link,” Sam said. “I just need you to put a copy of it on my phone. You can do that, can’t you?”

  Marty chewed his bottom lip for a moment, then nodded. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. He picked up his tablet and poked at the screen for a couple of minutes, then handed it over to Sam.

  “You got lousy cell signal out here,” he said, “but I managed it. I downloaded a copy onto the tablet, but I’ve encrypted it so that it can’t be copied or shared. If you try to copy it off or email it to somebody else, it won’t work. You show him that and he might believe it’s the only copy.”

  “Brilliant,” Sam said with a smile. “Listen, I don’t have any way to reach you except to come up here," he said. "I’ll make this happen as fast as I can, but you’ve got to stay here out of sight. Don’t go into town, don’t go driving around. This is the only place I can think of where Lemmons won’t be able to find you."

  “Don’t worry," Marty said. "I think the last thing I want to do is leave this spot right now."

  “Good. Just stay put. There’s a lot of books here, so it might be a good time to just catch up on your reading. There is no TV, and no internet, so that’s about all you’ve got."

  “Trust me, I’ll be fine. Reading actually sounds like a good way to pass the time."

  Sam promised to get back to him as soon as possible, then left him in the cabin and started the long, slow drive back down the mountain. Miraculously, the mufflers survived, and Sam made his way back to the interstate.

  9

  Sam rolled into Denver at just before three AM, but he knew better than to go to his own home. Lemmons was fully aware that Sam was on the case, and if he rea
lized that Sam’s entire family had suddenly decided to leave town, he’d naturally figure it was to protect them from whoever was involved in that case. It seemed to Sam that it might be wise to find somewhere else to catch some sleep. He pulled the Corvette into the parking lot of a national chain hotel and walked into the office to get a room, specifically asking for one toward the back of the building. He paid cash rather than using his credit cards, didn’t bother giving his correct license plate number on the registration form, and moved his car to the darkest part of the parking lot. Hopefully, that would mean that no one would be able to find out where he was staying.

  And then he slept. Sam had no sooner hit the pillow than his eyes closed and he drifted off into heavy sleep. He had managed to set an alarm on his phone for eight AM, and silently dared anyone to wake him before that time.

  The nice thing, Sam thought, about being so tired was that he didn’t seem to dream. Dreams didn’t usually trouble him much anyway, but the sleep was so much more restful without it. When the alarm went off, he woke refreshed and ready to start formulating a plan for the rest of the day.

  The first step was a shower, and as soon as he’d taken care of that, he made his way to the continental breakfast room. A place like this one always had waffles, and Sam considered waffles to be one of the four basic food groups. Two waffles and three cups of coffee later, he was ready to start letting his brain tackle the daunting task of finding a solution to a nearly impossible problem.

  Item one: Detective Jerry Lemmons had participated in and perhaps even orchestrated the murders of three teenagers.

  Item two: there were at least four other police officers involved in the murders and the resulting cover-up, including officers named Slocum, Forsyth and Driscoll.

  Item three: Marty Fletcher had inadvertently caught the entire episode on video.

  Item four: Marty had shared his fears and concerns with Tracy, who wanted to help him negotiate a solution that would keep him from getting killed.

  Item five: Tracy had hidden Marty away in a motel, then approached Jerry Lemmons without realizing he was involved in the murders.

  Item six: Marty had recognized Jerry Lemmons from the video, and had promised to deliver the video in exchange for their safety.

  Item seven: Lemmons had left with Tracy, and the hotel desk clerk had said she seemed frightened.

  Item eight: Tracy had called Marty that day and told him to go and hide, and hadn’t been seen or heard from since.

  Taking all of these things together, Sam agreed with Marty’s conclusion that Jerry Lemmons was responsible for Tracy’s disappearance, and was probably holding her somewhere to keep her quiet and use her as leverage whenever he managed to locate Marty, a tool to help him get his hands on the video. If that was true, then it was very likely that Tracy had been questioned, and probably tortured to some degree to try to get Marty’s location from her. At some point, it was likely that the questioning would have turned to what else she might be planning, and it wasn’t likely she could manage not to give up the fact that she had hoped to get Sam involved.

  Of course, she never called Sam, herself. There was a good chance her maternal instincts would prevent her from telling Detective Lemmons that she had told her daughter to contact Sam if anything happened to her. A mother can endure a lot when it comes to protecting her children, Sam knew.

  But then Sam had called Lemmons and asked about Tracy. It would be difficult for the detective not to put two and two together. Someone, and Heather would be the most likely person, had contacted Sam about Tracy. Would that put the girl in danger?

  It could, Sam realized, but he doubted it was likely at that moment. A teenage girl’s suspicions might be enough to engage a private investigator, but they wouldn’t interest any other cops. As long as Tracy was missing but presumed to be alive, there was no reason for Lemmons to take any action with regard to the girl. If her body were to be found later, however, there was always the possibility that the police might remember her daughter’s insistence that Tracy had been abducted. Heather would be in a lot more danger then.

  * * * * *

  Marty Fletcher was a coffee drinker, but that usually meant a trip to see the local barista. In the cabin, however, there was neither a microwave nor a coffee maker, so he scrounged through the cabinets until he came up with a jar of instant coffee, then fumbled around putting water in a teakettle and setting it on the old gas stove. It took him a minute to figure out that the gas wasn’t going to light itself, and by then he had to open a door to let some of the fumes out. Finally, he found the box of matches and managed not to singe his eyebrows getting it lit.

  Once the kettle began to whistle, he made himself a cup of coffee and carried it out onto the cabin’s front porch. He’d never really been much of a nature buff, but he admitted to himself there was something serene about sitting in the wilderness, listening to the sounds of the mountain and forest around him. The morning breeze blew through the trees, squirrels scampered in their branches and what looked like a whole herd of deer wandered past. A couple of them looked directly at him, but they showed no fear as they gracefully strolled away.

  There were many animal noises in the air, as well. He heard chirps and chitters, the bellowing of an elk and what he was sure must be the howl of a wolf. He leaned back on the rustic bench and closed his eyes, just taking in the various sounds.

  Another noise broke into his consciousness, and it took him a second to realize that it was the sound of tires on gravel. A vehicle was coming up the road toward the cabin, and Marty hoped it might be Sam returning to tell him that Tracy was safe and everything was over. He sat forward on the bench and stared through the trees, hoping to spot the beautiful red Corvette.

  It wasn’t Sam. The vehicle coming up the road was a car, a big silver one that should never have been on such a road. It was moving slowly, the driver being careful as he tried to avoid ruts and the bigger rocks. The hairs on the back of Marty’s neck suddenly stood up, and somehow he knew the car represented danger.

  He was up and inside the cabin a second later, watching through the window as the car approached. He was fairly sure he hadn’t been seen by the driver, and kept telling himself it was possible the car was simply lost or going even further up the old road.

  He didn’t truly believe that, of course. No one who knew that road would deliberately drive up it in such a low-slung automobile unless it was absolutely necessary, as it had been for Sam the night before. When the car came into clear view and turned into the driveway of the cabin, Marty spun and bolted out the back.

  Fifty yards behind the cabin, he stopped and huddled behind a tree. He heard two car doors open and close, and knew instantly that the occupants were looking for him. He could vaguely hear one of them knocking on the front door, as a second man circled around the cabin and came into view. Marty knew the face; it was one he could never forget. Officer Driscoll was sneaking up toward the back door of the cabin, a revolver in one hand and a cell phone in the other.

  “We found him,” Driscoll said into the phone. “He’s been hiding out in Prichard’s cabin. Yeah, his van is out front, and the lights are on in the cabin…”

  Slocum suddenly came through the back door of the cabin. He looked out toward the woods, and for a moment Marty thought he’d been spotted. “He’s around here somewhere,” Slocum said. “Cup of coffee on the table was still warm.”

  Driscoll looked around at the woods. “Looks like he took off into the forest,” he said. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Yeah, I know, I said don’t worry. We’ll take care of him.” He cut the call and put the phone in his pocket, then he and Slocum started walking toward the trees.

  Doing his best to stay quiet, Marty turned and made his way through the trees, moving further up the mountain. He’d gone a dozen steps when he stepped on a dry, broken branch, and the loud crack that it made sounded almost like a gunshot in his ears.

  “Marty?” Driscoll called out. “Marty, we know
you’re here. Come on out, we just want to talk to you.”

  Marty ran. Behind him, he could hear the two cops crashing through the forest in pursuit.

  * * * * *

  Sam decided it was time to put his plan into action, so he checked out of the hotel and got into his car. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him as he drove out of the parking lot, headed toward District One and the Major Crimes Unit. He took out his phone and dialed the number as he drove.

  “Denver police, this is Sergeant Ragsdale, how may I help you?”

  “Sergeant, this is Sam Prichard,” Sam said. “I’d like to speak to Jerry Lemmons, please.”

  “Just one moment, sir,” the sergeant said. Sam heard the hold music for a moment, and then Lemmons’s voice came on the line.

  “Detective Lemmons.”

  “Jerry, it’s Sam Prichard. Remember that situation I called you about yesterday?”

  Sam didn’t detect any nervousness in the detective’s voice. “Yeah, Tracy Jensen. Have you heard anything about her? We’re still thinking she just ran off with her boyfriend.”

  “No you’re not,” Sam said. “I’ve got a hunch you know exactly where she is, and I’ve got what you’re actually looking for. Think maybe we ought to get together and talk this over?”

  Lemmons chuckled. “Not sure what you’re thinking,” he said, “but I’d be glad to get together over a cup of coffee, if you want. Name the time and place.”

  Sam spotted a Denny’s restaurant just ahead. “How about Denny’s on Federal? I’m pulling in now, I’ll get us a table off by ourselves where we can talk.”

  “Sounds good,” the detective said. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Order me a cup of coffee, would you?” The line went dead, and Sam slipped his phone back into his pocket as he parked the car. He tucked the tablet into the back of his pants and let his polo shirt hang down over it.

  Sam flashed his ID and told the hostess that he needed a table where he and a police detective could talk privately, so she showed him to a booth in a back room that was normally reserved for parties. There was no one else in the room, so the hostess took his order for two cups of coffee and brought them back just a moment later, then left him alone again.