Missing in Blue Mesa

by Cindi Myers

  “Okay. Does the room have a phone?”

  “All our rooms have phones and satellite TV. People expect that these days.”

  “I’ll need the number for the phone in their room. We’re going to try to negotiate with these guys.”

  “I feel terrible about that kid,” Johanson said. “I guess we should have realized something wasn’t right, but we don’t watch much news and we’re just not the type to expect the worst from people. Let me get you that number.”

  He came back on the line after a moment and rattled off the phone number, which Ethan wrote down in his notebook. “Is there anything we can do?” Mr. Johanson asked.

  “Just stay in the house. We’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”

  “Here comes the cavalry,” Simon said as Ethan pocketed his phone. Two Ranger Brigade FJ Cruisers swung in to block the entrance to the motel, and Commander Ellison and the rest of the Ranger Brigade climbed out. Simon and Ethan made their way over to meet them.

  Ethan brought them up to date on the situation, opening his notebook to sketch the layout of the rooms. “We could put a team in the room next door and come in that way,” Marco said.

  “Risky unless we know exactly where the baby is,” Commander Ellison said.

  “I might be able to find that out when I talk to them,” Ethan said.

  “The back window is a little small to try going in that way,” Ellison said.

  “Carmen might be able to get in that way,” Simon said.

  “I wouldn’t want to send her in alone,” Ellison said. “But we’ll keep it in mind.”

  “We come at them from both sides, it’ll be easier to pin them down,” Simon said.

  Ethan shook his head. “Too much risk of the baby getting caught in the cross fire.”

  “Ethan, you get them on the phone,” Ellison said. “Maybe we can talk them into surrendering. Meanwhile, Simon and Michael, you get into the room next door. We’ll keep Carmen and Lance on the back of the building, and tell her to be ready to go in the window if necessary. Marco, you take up a position where you have a clear shot at the front of the room.”

  * * *

  WHAT IS THAT roaring in my ears? And why is it so dark?

  Michelle groaned, and the roaring faded, her vision gradually clearing. Her head throbbed, and her arms ached. What was she doing lying in the back of a car? She struggled to sit, the task made more difficult by the fact that her hands were tied behind her back.

  “It’s about time you woke up.”

  She stared at the three-quarter profile of Daniel Metwater’s face as he piloted the car down a paved highway, past a landscape of sagebrush fields and rocky cliffs. “What are you doing?” she asked, the words emerging as a strangled croak. She coughed and tried again. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I haven’t decided, exactly,” he said. “I’ve been driving around, waiting for you to wake up and considering my options.”

  “Why are you so angry with me?” she asked. “What did I ever do to you?”

  “It’s not what you have done, but what you potentially could do,” he said. “The best way to handle a problem in your life is to address it before it becomes serious. You may recall a teaching I presented on that topic at the campfire circle one evening not too long ago.”

  He must have interpreted her frown as puzzlement. “Of course you don’t remember,” he said. “I always suspected you of not paying attention.”

  No one had paid attention to his nightly sermons—or what he called “teachings”—most of the time. Even the uber-faithful like Asteria would tune out after a while. Good looks and charisma could take a man a long way, but they weren’t enough to cow two dozen healthy adults into hanging on to his every word night after night. But Michelle knew better than to anger Metwater by pointing this out. “What do you mean—what I could potentially do?” she asked.

  He glanced up at her in the rearview mirror, then back at the road. “One of my gifts is reading people,” he said. “I can almost always watch a new follower for a day or two and figure out what he or she is looking for from me, and I determine how to fill that need. It’s what makes me a great leader.”

  A great manipulator, she thought.

  “For instance, more than anything, Asteria wants a home and security. She wants to feel safe. I can give that to her and to her child.”

  “And in exchange, she gives you everything,” Michelle blurted.

  Metwater nodded. “The definition of a fair exchange is one in which each party receives what he or she wants, so I would say the exchange between Asteria and myself is infinitely fair. You, however, were much more difficult to read. I realized right away, of course, that this was because you were being deceptive.”

  He had realized no such thing. He had paid scarcely any attention to her in the first weeks after she and Greg came to the camp with Hunter. “If you thought I was such a liar, why did you let me stay?”

  “Because I wanted to know what your game was. The best way to defeat an enemy is to know him.”

  “Was that one of your teachings, too?”

  He laughed. “It was. Think of all the useful things you would have learned if you had been paying attention.”

  “So what do you think you know about me?” she asked.

  “You’re not malleable.”

  It wasn’t the answer she had been expecting. “Why is that bad?” she asked.

  “It isn’t necessarily bad,” he said. “I’m not malleable, either. But nonmalleable people don’t mesh well in groups—unless they’re the leader. I can’t have someone in my group I can’t control.”

  She somehow refrained from rolling her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “So you kicked me out. End of story. Why kidnap me now?”

  “You’re too dangerous, especially now that you’re in bed with the cops.”

  He had chosen that particular figure of speech on purpose, she was sure. “I don’t care about you,” she said. “I only care about David, and what he did to my sister.”

  “If you start digging around in David’s past, it could come back to hurt me. I’ve come much too far to let that happen.”

  That made her curious, as he must have known it would. Which also meant he had no intention of letting her live long enough to dig further into his past. “Since we’re baring our souls here,” she said, “tell me the truth about what happened to Hunter. Where is he? What did you do to him?” Her voice broke on the last words, and she blinked hard, forcing back tears. She wouldn’t break down in front of this arrogant jerk, no matter what.

  “Some guys I knew in Chicago owed me a favor,” he said. “They agreed to come down and babysit your little boy. You don’t have to worry about him—he’s all right.”

  Relief rocked her back in the seat, and she swayed, light-headed. Metwater wasn’t the type to spare her feelings, so he must be telling the truth.

  He slowed the car, then pulled onto the side of the road. She sat up straighter. The landscape hadn’t changed—rolling stretches of sagebrush, rocky cliffs, achingly blue sky. “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about my brother,” he said. “About when they found his body. Have you ever seen someone who has drowned?”

  She shook her head, then, realizing he couldn’t see her, added, “No.”

  “Being in the water really messes up a body,” he said. “By the time they found my brother, he was so disfigured no one could identify him. Dental records didn’t help—we both have perfect teeth. They identified him based on a tattoo. I had to go in and look at it and bring pictures that showed him with the tattoo.”

  “Wh...why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I wanted you to know that’s what it’s going to be like for you.” He put the car in gear and turned back onto the highway. “Only a little farther now,” he s
aid. “I just have to find deep enough water.”

  * * *

  WHEN EVERYONE WAS in their places around the motel, Ethan pulled out his phone. He texted Carmen.

  Can you hear anything in there?

  Some movement. The baby was crying a little bit ago, but he’s quiet now.

  I’m making my call now. Ethan replied.

  Good luck.

  He punched in the number Mr. Johanson had given him and waited. On the fifth ring, a man picked up. “Yeah?”

  “This is Agent Ethan Reynolds with the Ranger Brigade. Is this Thad or Tom Smith?”

  “What difference does it make to you? You all need to back off and leave us alone if you don’t want this kid to get hurt.”

  “We don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Ethan said. Though he kept his gaze fixed on the door to the room where the kidnappers waited, out of the corner of his eye he saw Simon and Michael inching along the front of the building, toward the door of the end room. “I’m sure you didn’t plan for things to turn out this way.” He needed to establish a connection with Smith and keep him on the line and distracted as long as possible.

  “This was supposed to be a simple job,” Smith said. “Snatch the kid and hold him for a few days.”

  A job. Meaning the Smiths were employees? “Whose idea was it to take the baby?” Ethan asked.

  “Not mine. I wish I’d never laid eyes on the kid.”

  “So the person we should really be going after isn’t you—it’s the person who hired you.”

  “I’m not saying anything.”

  “Why? Because you’re afraid of the person who hired you?”

  “Because I’m not stupid. I roll over on him and I’ll end up at the bottom of a river somewhere.”

  The door to the end room closed behind the two Rangers. Ethan hadn’t heard anything to alert him that the Smiths were aware of their new neighbors. “Was the ransom note his idea or yours?” Ethan asked.

  “What difference does it make?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out what you want. If I know that, maybe we can come to an agreement that gets us both what we want.”

  “Hey, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. No cop cares about what I want.”

  Ethan remembered Metwater’s outrage when they’d shown him the ransom note. “Those idiots!” he had shouted. “How much did Daniel Metwater promise you for taking the boy?” he asked.

  “Not nearly enough. Hey! I never said it was Metwater.”

  “You didn’t have to. How much did he offer?”

  Silence. “Come on,” Ethan prodded. “Help me make my case against him and it will go better for you.”

  “Five thousand,” Smith said. “We were just supposed to keep the kid for a few days while he taught some woman a lesson.”

  It wasn’t enough that Metwater had beat up Michelle—he had to steal her baby, too. “But it took longer than you thought,” Ethan prompted.

  “Yeah. And the kid hardly shuts up. He cried all night last night. We hardly slept.”

  “That’s rough.” Ethan pretended to sympathize. “He sounds quiet now.”

  “He’s asleep.”

  “You have a crib in there?” Ethan tried to picture where a baby bed might fit into the small room.

  “We put some pillows in the bathtub and put him in there. He seems to like it, and we can shut the door if he starts wailing again.”

  Ethan’s heart leaped at this news. He grabbed his notepad and scrawled a message to the commander. “Text Carmen that the baby is in the bathtub, asleep.”

  Ellison glanced at the note and nodded. Ethan forced his attention back to the call. “You must be pretty bored in there,” he said. “What do you do to pass the time?”

  “Mostly we watch TV and sleep.” Someone mumbled in the background and Smith chuckled. “My brother says to tell you he’s cleaning his gun.”

  “If you come out now, and leave the baby behind for us, I’ll make sure the DA knows you cooperated,” Ethan said.

  Smith made a snorting sound. “We’re not moving until we get a solid deal—none of this maybe business.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Ethan said. “I’ll need to make some calls and talk to a few people. In the meantime, can I get you anything—food, beer, diapers?”

  “We’re good.”

  Ethan ended the call and looked at Ellison. The commander gave him a thumbs-up. “Simon and Michael are in place,” Ellison said. “They were able to open the door on their side while you were on the phone with Smith. We’ll come in the front while they come in the side.”

  “We know they’re armed,” Ethan said. “They’ll start shooting right away.”

  “We think we can overpower them before they know what hit them,” Ellison said. “We’re going to fire tear gas in before we go in. We’ll have gas masks, but they won’t.”

  “Neither will Hunter,” Ethan said.

  “Carmen is at the back window with Lance,” Ellison said. “She thinks she can get in the window—which is already open a few inches. He’ll boost her up and she’ll go in and grab the baby and hand him out to Lance while the Smiths are dealing with their surprise visitors. The gas won’t have had time to reach the bathroom yet, especially with the door closed.”

  Ethan nodded. It sounded like a good plan, but he knew too well that things could always go wrong.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What’s my role?” Ethan asked.

  “Get Smith back on the phone,” Ellison said. “Pump him for more information about Metwater’s involvement. Get him worked up if you can—agitated and distracted. Try to get him to look out the window at you—that will put him farther from the connecting door when we go in.”

  Ethan nodded. All he had to do was keep his cool, and let the team do its job. “Do you need a minute?” Ellison asked.

  “No, I’m good.” He held up the phone. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Go when Randall and I are in the room with Simon and Michael.”

  He waited while the commander added a helmet and shield to his riot gear. Ellison and Randall Knightbridge, who was similarly outfitted, slipped out of sight behind the motel office, then reappeared at the corner of the building. Moving stealthily, they made their way to the door of the end room and disappeared inside.

  Ethan called the Smiths. Someone answered right away. The baby wailed in the background. “What?” Thad demanded.

  “I need you to tell me more about Metwater,” he said. “I need to be able to convince the DA that you can give us information we can’t get anywhere else. I need him to see that you’re too valuable to pass up the opportunity to get you on our side.”

  “Yeah, and if I tell you everything I know now, you won’t need me at all,” he said. “Tom, shut that kid up. I can’t think!”

  “He’ll stop crying in a minute,” Ethan said. “Try turning on the TV. They like to hear the voices.”

  “I’ll try anything.” After a moment the sound of a television came up. Miraculously, Hunter’s crying stopped. “Hey, it worked!”

  “Just leave him in the bathtub and he’ll probably fall back asleep in a minute,” Ethan said. In any case, the noise from the television would help cover up any sounds from the room next door. “I don’t need much, I just need a little to make the DA happy. You mentioned Metwater’s connections. What did you mean by that?”

  “What do you think I mean?” Smith asked. “Chicago? Connections?”

  “You mean the mob?” Ethan asked. “I thought his brother was the one who was tied up with the Mafia.”

  “That’s what everybody thought, but they were all wrong.”

  “How do you know this?” Ethan asked.

  “Uh-uh. I’m not going there. In fact, we’re done talking.”

  “Don’t hang up!” E
than said. “Tell me about this woman Metwater wanted to teach a lesson. What was his beef with her?”

  “Man, I don’t know,” Smith said. “All he told us was that we had to keep the kid out of sight for a few days until she learned her lesson. He said he’d give us five thousand bucks to babysit and that’s all I needed to know.”

  “But then he didn’t pay you.”

  “He didn’t come through with the money and he couldn’t tell me when the job would be over.”

  “So you decided to make the best of things and sent the ransom note,” Ethan said. “That way, at least you’d get something out of the deal.”

  “That’s about it. We had to cover our expenses, you know? And this way, the kid ended up back with his mother. We’re not heartless.”

  “I can see that. And the DA will take that into considera—”

  An explosion cut off his word. Shouting, and thuds. Ethan clutched the phone to his ear and stared at the front of the hotel, but the curtains to the Smiths’ room remained closed, providing no clue about what was going on inside. Then two figures raced from behind the building. Carmen, followed by Lance, jogged along the far side of the parking lot to reach Ethan. She cradled a blanket-wrapped bundle to her chest and was grinning from ear to ear. “He’s okay,” she said, before Ethan could ask. “We’ve got EMTs on the way,” Lance said. “They’ll take him to the hospital for a checkup. His mom can meet us there.”

  His mom. Ethan ended the call to the Smiths and punched in the number for his duplex. The phone rang and rang. “Michelle probably isn’t answering because she thinks the call is for me,” he said.

  The door to the motel room burst open and a bearded young man with long brown hair stumbled out, his hands cuffed behind him, followed by Commander Ellison, and a second handcuffed man handled by Simon and Randall. They hustled the prisoners over to the cruisers and put them in the back seats.

  Ellison pulled off his helmet and joined Ethan, Lance and Carmen, who was still holding Hunter. The baby was wailing, loudly, his face red from the effort. “I think he needs a bottle and a clean diaper,” Carmen said as she jostled him in her arms. “I hope the EMTs come prepared.”