by Alex Kava
Alonzo saw where she was going. “I’ll find out.” And his fingers got back to work.
Kunze had stopped his pacing and now he stood at the end of the table, his eyes on her.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Patterson.” He looked genuinely remorseful. “I should have never allowed you to be on this task force when two people you care about are involved.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. I had a choice. Besides, if I recall, you didn’t have a choice. Senator Delanor-Ramos twisted your arm.”
“Damn politicians,” Kunze said under his breath, and he started pacing again.
“I think I may have found something,” Alonzo said.
The rest of them scrambled from their chairs to stand around behind the agent.
“A couple of days ago when I accessed the Iowa farm’s land survey to find out property boundaries there was a list of contact names. The executor of the estate was included: John Howard Elliott.”
“What about him?”
“He’s also on the list I found of troubled teenagers Helen and William Paxton took in. And it looks like John Howard and Otis were at the farm at the same time.”
“Holy crap!” Ganza said.
“That’s it.” Gwen knew that was the connection. “John Howard is Jack.”
“Alonzo, get back to those Florida properties on that frickin’ river,” Kunze told him as he grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair. “Let me know what you find out.”
“Where are you going?” Racine asked.
“I’ve got two agents I just sent into a shithole. I’m going down there to pull them out even if I have to do it myself.”
SUNDAY, MARCH 24
CHAPTER 66
BLACKWATER RIVER STATE FOREST
Tully was asleep, his head on Maggie’s shoulder. She leaned her cheek against him. His hair was damp and sweaty, his forehead was feverish, but he slept peacefully. No groans or fitful jerks. Maybe the whiskey. Maybe the antibiotics. Either way, she was glad he could rest. At least for now.
As for herself? She didn’t dare close her eyes but it grew harder and harder to keep them open. The cabin filled with warmth from the crackling wood fire. The storms were dying away to occasional flickers of lightning. The crashes of thunder reduced to a distant rumble. As quickly as they arrived, they exited.
Her stomach growled and she remembered Tully joking that she would regret not having the best waffles in the world. He had ordered the Waffle House’s All-Star Special with scrambled eggs, sausage, grits, a waffle the size of a dinner plate, and coffee. Her mouth watered just thinking about it now. She had settled for wheat toast and orange juice. Even the waitress had warned that she would regret her choice. “Oh honey, that’s hardly nothing.”
The idea that she was thinking about food made her smile. It was something she’d obviously acquired from working so closely with Tully these past several weeks. He seemed to eat out of stress and boredom and anxiety.
She hadn’t used all of the bottled water to clean Tully’s wound. Now she drank what was left. A few seconds later her stomach was still growling.
“You should have had breakfast,” Tully mumbled into her shoulder without moving his head away.
“I don’t suppose you have any of those prepackaged honey buns in one of your pockets?”
“I thought you said you’d have to be starving before you’d eat one of those.”
“Point.”
She felt his “humph” more than heard it.
“Do you hear that?” Jack suddenly said from across the room, startling them.
Maggie thought he meant their conversation, but he walked the length of the cabin with his head tilted to listen and his arms out, palms up, like a preacher getting ready to proclaim a miracle.
Otis wiped at his eyes and rubbed his jaw. The big man had been asleep and looked just as confused as Maggie and Tully about Jack’s excitement.
“Don’t you hear that?”
He lifted the hatch and opened the potbelly stove. He doused the fire, watering it down until there wasn’t a curl of smoke left.
Then he looked from Tully and Maggie to Otis, surprised that no one had even stirred. His eyes returned to Maggie’s when he said, “It’s quit storming. I’ve looked forward to this for a long time, Magpie. Don’t disappoint me.”
CHAPTER 67
Creed scrambled to put his gear back on as he watched the storm clouds move east. Veins of lightning streaked through the black mass that still roared, though the sound had diminished. Under the black mass Creed could see the first light of dawn.
He was harnessing Bolo when a call came in from Agent Alonzo.
“I found it,” the young agent yelled before Creed could say anything.
“Otis has a cabin?”
“Not Otis.” Alonzo explained what he’d learned about John Howard Elliott and the connection between the two men. “Our guy is John Howard Junior. The senior Elliott owns a piece of land right on Blackwater River. Just on the other side of the forest. Been in the family for years. But the taxes don’t list a dwelling.”
“It might not,” Creed said and the urgency kicked up his pulse. “Some of them are shacks. No electricity. No indoor plumbing. So they don’t qualify as a dwelling. Can you give a GPS coordinate?”
Alonzo gave him what he needed. He asked the agent to call the Coast Guard and give them the information they needed to put a helicopter up.
“Cell phone reception’s going to be spotty once I get on the river,” he told the agent. “So you might not hear from me.”
“Wait a minute. Why not wait for the Coast Guard? They should be able to spot the cabin. It’s almost daylight there, right?”
Creed grimaced but smiled. “Agent Alonzo, have you ever looked down from above on a forest?”
Silence.
“Tell them my dog will be wearing a bright yellow vest. I don’t want them thinking I’m one of the bad guys.”
“You got it.”
Then before he could end the call, he heard Alonzo say, “Good luck, Mr. Creed.”
CHAPTER 68
Jack had given them a head start, just as he’d promised.
It was impossible to run.
Maggie held Tully up. They stumbled and shuffled. She had his arm looped around her shoulder so he could lean on her. But again the handcuffs trapped her left arm against her body, which limited their movement even more.
She needed to get them out of sight from the cabin. Not such a difficult task—it was still dark inside the forest, though she could see the sky starting to lighten. A mist still hung over the river, thick enough to make you second-guess what you saw.
Already Maggie’s adrenaline came to her aid, shoving her exhausted mind into gear. Urgency trampled panic, kicking her into fight or flight overdrive. For now it had to be flight. At least until she could get Tully somewhere out of sight and halfway safe.
She pulled them behind the trunk of huge live oak and she gently yanked Tully down into a sitting position.
“What are we doing?” he whispered.
His eyes were focused even if his mind couldn’t make his body work as well as he wanted.
Maggie untangled his arm from around her. Then she ripped her hiking boot off her right foot without bothering to untie the laces. She had to roll her sock down almost all the way off her foot to reach the item she had placed in the cuff of her sock. It had worked its way to the bottom of her foot. When she had rummaged through Trooper Campos’s gun belt and taken the handcuffs, she had taken the key as well.
Tully saw what she had in her fingers. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it, but then he grinned.
Metal clicked against metal and in seconds they were free of each other. Maggie ignored the raw welt and caked blood on her wrist. She pulled down the sleeve of her shirt and hurried to put her boot back on.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” Tully continued to whisper and for the first time he sounded almost like himself.
With
his right hand finally free, she saw him touch his shoulder, his fingers anxious to feel the damage. He winced and stopped. His hand hovered over the wound.
“Clean shot through?” he asked her.
“It looks like it.”
“Okay. I can do this.”
She had witnessed how weak and dizzy he had been on his feet even with her help. He’d only slow her down.
“We need to find a place where you can stay put and be safe.”
He didn’t respond. He just stared at her. She had expected an argument. Never had she expected this quiet, wounded look. Then it occurred to her. He thought she had taken him up on his earlier offer. He thought she was leaving him behind.
“I’m not leaving this forest without you.”
“Sure. I know.”
“I’m serious, Tully.”
She peeked around the tree trunk. Jack had promised he and Otis would give them a half hour. Experience had taught her that killers don’t usually keep their promises. She figured she had fifteen to twenty minutes at best.
“Come on,” she said, standing and stretching out her left arm for him to use as a pull-up bar.
He tried standing on his own. Cursed under his breath. Then he grabbed hold and allowed her to help haul him to his feet. He slammed a palm against the tree to steady himself, his lower lip between his teeth.
She found a place for them to cross the river. It took too much time. She was surprised to find the rain had transformed the shallow water to waist-deep. The air temperature was balmy and warm, so Maggie was shocked to find the river ice cold. Tully didn’t complain. She made him follow close behind with a hand latched onto each of her shoulders. They waddled liked ducks at an excruciatingly slow pace.
On the other side of the river Maggie hunted for a spot to climb up the bank. This side was the state forest, left wild and undeveloped. They had to wade through water lilies and reeds. Finally Maggie found a downed tree, partially submerged in the river. They could walk alongside it, holding on for balance. She pulled herself up the slippery clay bank, then turned around and helped Tully.
Not far from the river they found the perfect hiding place under another fallen tree. The root ball had been yanked out of the ground, providing a nest of twisted roots that snaked and weaved together. From within, Tully would be able to see out. After they smeared his blue FBI windbreaker with mud, it would be difficult to see him inside.
She handed him the ASR canister that she had also taken off Trooper Campos’s belt and stuck inside the cuff of her other sock.
“It’ll slow him down.” She tried to sound convincing.
When she turned to leave, Tully grabbed her arm. He waited for her to look him in the eyes.
“I know you’re going back, aren’t you?”
“It’s the only way,” Maggie said. “If you can’t outrun a killer, you’ve got to outwit him.”
He didn’t look pleased, but she knew he wouldn’t try to talk her out of it. He dug in his windbreaker and pulled out the pen Gwen had given him. It was all he had to offer.
“Put the X-Acto blade into place and slit that bastard’s throat.”
CHAPTER 69
Creed had put Bolo in the front of the two-man inflatable and the dog was working the air, his huge nose making snuffling sounds. He let the dog help, though he knew exactly where he was going. As he rowed he watched the GPS’s screen and followed, taking narrow creeks and winding his way around fresh debris that the rains and wind had set loose.
He’d been up Blackwater River before and was familiar with most of the creeks that forked into it. The river was thirty-one miles long and was one of the best canoe trips in the area. The mist lifted little by little and night lifted into dawn. Streaks of light shot through the trees as daylight broke on the other side of the tall pines. With the sunrise came a fresh hope and renewed belief that anything was possible.
He had changed his cell phone ringer to Vibrate but he had lost all reception miles ago, so he turned it off to preserve the battery.
“Not much farther, Bolo,” he told the dog, who acknowledged him with a wag of his tail, but that was the only thing that moved on his rigid body.
A couple more bends and twists and they would be at the property that John Howard Elliott owned. Creed only hoped it wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER 70
Maggie thought she heard a helicopter in the distance. Was her imagination already playing tricks on her? A part of her wanted to stay with Tully and hide until someone came to their rescue. The sound of the helicopter made her hesitate and reconsider. Then it faded and disappeared. Replaced by the drumming of her heart.
Jack would expect Maggie and Tully to trip over each other. He’d expect them to be frightened, to get frustrated then get angry with each other. He’d want them to become enemies, so that by the time he caught them they would be so enraged with each other they’d be begging him to kill the other first.
Jack would also count on them running as fast and as far away as they could. Using their allotted time to run for help.
What he wouldn’t expect was for Maggie to come back.
When she left Tully she backtracked. It took hardly any time now that she was alone. As the sky continued to lighten and the mist dissipated, she needed to be more careful about taking cover. Crossing the river, she remembered every obstacle and quickly maneuvered around them. By now she was drenched in sweat, and the bone-deep cold of the river actually revitalized her senses.
She was struck by the fact that the cabin couldn’t be seen from the river. Trees surrounded it. Tall long-leaf pines crowded together with not a shoulder-width between them. Other hardwood trees were interspersed. Scrub bushes, junipers, tall grass, and vines grew so thick it made it impossible to walk without them scraping skin or snagging clothing.
Maggie sneaked back to the live oak that she and Tully had hid behind earlier. She hadn’t climbed a tree since she was a little girl, but within minutes she was perched high above the ground with a perfect bird’s-eye view of the cabin’s only door. And she could see the river all the way to the first bend.
She knew that Otis and Jack had taken both troopers’ service revolvers along with Tully’s Glock and her Smith & Wesson. And Jack already had what she believed to be a Glock. Surely they wouldn’t take all five weapons with them. After all, Jack didn’t like to use guns. He preferred to cut.
She decided to watch them leave. Then she’d wait. How long? She had no idea. She’d depend on her gut to tell her.
By her wristwatch, it had been nineteen minutes since she and Tully had left the cabin. Jack had promised them thirty. At twenty-one minutes she saw the cabin door open. Her body went still, her back pressed against the bark. She did not move a muscle. A breeze ruffled the leaves around her and sent the smaller branches swaying. Her heart had been banging against her chest the whole time she hobbled Tully across the river and into hiding. But now she found herself remarkably calm, her breathing steady and her mind clear.
She watched Jack point to something on the ground. Footprints.
Would they be able to tell that she had come back? Or did it simply look like two frantic people, running one way and then another?
Then the men split up. Jack followed the riverbank. Otis disappeared into the forest behind the cabin.
Maggie checked her watch again. She’d give herself ten minutes. Anything more would be dangerous, but ten minutes was all it should take.
CHAPTER 71
Eleven minutes.
Maggie couldn’t find the guns anywhere. Where would Jack have hidden them?
She crawled along the floor, ducking under the windows and staying low. She had already searched every cabinet and cubbyhole in the cabin. She’d looked under furniture, between the mattress and box spring, under the sofa cushions, even behind the chemical toilet. None of the floorboards was loose. The walls were solid. She had rifled through the only two drawers of clothing and patted down folded towels. She picked apart the wo
od and kindling crate and shoved her hand into the ice chest beneath the carton of milk and packages of ground beef.
No guns.
Twelve minutes.
Maggie scooted under the window that overlooked the river and stole a glance out. She’d never see them return in time to escape.
She tried to remember. It was raining hard by the time they got to the cabin. Neither man had gone out. Otis had brought a duffel bag in with him from the boat. Gray, canvas. She still hadn’t come across it. She needed to go through the cabinets again.
Then she heard something. Her body froze and she held her breath. It sounded like a dog barking.
Creed. It had to be Creed.
Relief swept over her before she caught herself. Grace had never once barked. If Creed had found the bodies in the clearing and followed them here, he would never allow his dog to bark and give them away.
And suddenly Maggie’s pulse began to race.
CHAPTER 72
Maggie’s breath came in quick bursts. All the calm and steady resolve she had built up now threatened to break apart. She started to race from the cabin, then stopped herself.
Was it a trick? Jack claimed to know everything about her. Did he know she was a sucker for dogs? And especially dogs in distress.
Once outside she could hear the barking again. It sounded like it was coming from the same direction she had seen Jack headed. And the dog was frantic.
Instead of following along the riverbank, Maggie stayed back in the forest. Her eyes searched while she darted from tree to tree. The knee-high brush jabbed and poked. It was impossible to walk through the forest and be quiet. Branches snapped. Closer to the riverbank, clay sucked at her boots. Birds fluttered out of her path. Water rushed over a logjam.