Deep Cover Detective

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Deep Cover Detective Page 17

by LENA DIAZ,


  “Let’s do this.”

  They headed off in single file through the woods, following Colton’s lead, stepping where he stepped. He really seemed to know what he was doing to not make much noise, avoiding twigs and anything that might alert the camp that they were coming.

  When they reached the perimeter, they quietly made their way to the far side, where the Jeeps were parked.

  Colton waved the boys over to a bush close to the first Jeep and gave them the thumbs-up signal. Then he and Silver circled through the woods toward the back middle of the camp and crouched down, opposite the cage where the hostages were sitting. Colton pulled out his knife. Silver drew her gun.

  And then they waited.

  And waited.

  Colton was just about to suggest they go back to the shed to check on the boys when a flash of light speared through the night from that direction. Sparks rose in the air. The distant crackle of flames had the hostages turning to see what was happening.

  One of the perimeter guards shouted, “Fire! It’s coming from the direction of the shed. Come on.”

  To a man, the guards surged forward, including the ones in the tent and even the drivers, and ran toward the shed. Colton had based his plan on what would be more important to the head honcho and therefore to his men—the hostages or millions of dollars of cocaine. Money won every time.

  But he was all too aware that it wouldn’t take ten men to put out one little fire. They only had a few minutes, at best.

  “Cover me,” he told Silver.

  She held her gun up, watching the other side of the camp for any returning guards.

  Colton ran to the cage, his knife drawn. He hacked at the twine holding the door closed and then yanked it open.

  “Hurry,” Silver said. “I saw some kind of movement.”

  He ran inside and sliced the bindings on the hostages’ legs but didn’t bother with the hands.

  “Come on,” he said. “To the first Jeep. Run.” He guided them out the door, but one of the boys had a hurt leg with a nasty cut. He winced when he tried to put weight on it. The boy was as tall as Colton and too heavy for him to carry. He pulled the boy’s arm over his shoulder and helped him hobble to the Jeep.

  When they got there, he settled him into the back. All the hostages were accounted for. And his prize tire slashers had done their job. The second Jeep’s tires were all flat.

  “Get in. Start the engine.”

  Shouts sounded behind him. He turned around to see two of the guards sprinting toward the encampment, guns drawn. He looked back at the Jeep, expecting Silver to be in it. She wasn’t. He whirled around again. Silver wasn’t by the tent. She wasn’t in the Jeep. She wasn’t anywhere.

  “Silver?” he called out. “Silver?”

  The crack of a bullet echoed through the woods. Colton dove down and brought up his gun, firing at the guard who’d shot at him. The guard catapulted back in a heap on the ground. The second guard took aim. Colton squeezed off two quick shots. The guard dove behind some bushes.

  Colton thumped the back of the Jeep. “Go, go, go. Get out of here.”

  The man who Colton assumed was Mr. Jones hopped into the driver’s seat. “Come on,” he called out. “Get in.”

  “Not without Silver. Go. We’ll catch up with you. Hurry before the rest of them come back.”

  Another bullet whined past him.

  The Jeep took off, spitting up dirt and leaves as it barreled away.

  Colton whirled around, ducking behind a tree as he looked everywhere for Silver. Where could she be? She should have been right behind him.

  A scream sounded from off to his right somewhere, galvanizing him into action. He fired two quick cover shots and took off, running as fast as he’d ever run in his life. Please be okay, please be okay.

  Another scream.

  Colton swore every curse word he knew.

  Then he started praying.

  His foot sank into a muddy bog and he fell hard, splashing face-first into some brackish water. He pushed himself upright and took off again. The sound of a powerful engine started up. He knew that sound. An airboat. He sprinted faster, pumping his legs up and down.

  Moonlight flashed off the white hull of a boat, an airboat just up ahead. And on it he could see two figures, Silver and a tall, brawny man he’d fought with once before.

  Cato.

  The boat took off, speeding away from the makeshift dock.

  There was no other boat.

  Panic sent a burst of adrenaline straight through Colton. He put on a fresh burst of speed and leaped off the dock toward the airboat. He splashed into the marsh, then jerked forward. He managed to get one hand on the back of the boat, wedged in between the metal cage around the fan and the hull. The boat skipped and hopped over the shallows, slapping him around like a rag doll.

  He struggled to hold on and finally got his other hand on the back of the boat. With the fan between him and the rest of the boat, Cato hadn’t realized he was there. Silver sat on the floor of the boat at his feet, with Cato’s gun pointed at her while he steered.

  Colton gritted his teeth and fought inch over inch as he painstakingly clung to the boat and made his way up the side to get around the fan. The boat bumped across a mudflat, bouncing him up in the air. By some miracle he was flipped into the boat instead of into the marsh. He landed with a bone-jarring thud on the metal floor.

  Cato and Silver both jerked their heads and looked at him.

  His gun was long gone, lying somewhere on the bottom of the marsh. And he figured Silver’s must have been taken, as well, or she’d already have figured out a way to shoot Cato.

  He watched, seemingly in slow motion, as his fate played out in front of his eyes. Cato’s gun began to swivel toward him. He knew the bullet would rip through him, killing him. It was impossible to miss at this range. He braced himself, feeling at peace, believing his sacrifice would give Silver the distraction she needed to save herself—to either push Cato overboard or jump over herself. She would survive. And that was all that mattered.

  “No,” he heard her scream.

  Cato’s gun jerked back toward her.

  Colton launched himself at him, slamming his shoe against the other man’s knee with a sickening crack as he delivered an uppercut to the underside of his arm, shoving the gun up toward the sky. The gun fired but then flew out of the boat, into the black marsh rushing by them at a dizzying speed.

  Cato roared with rage, clutching his bad knee even as he struggled to remain upright by holding on to the wheel well.

  Colton was about to punch him again when he looked past him and saw a black void rushing toward them. He shouted a warning and dove toward Silver, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her with him over the side of the boat. They plunged into the water, bottoming out on the muddy shallows.

  A dull sound reverberated through the water and a fireball flashed its light above them. They broke the surface, bobbing like corks in the water as they stared at what was left of the airboat. It had run full speed into the upended roots of an enormous dead tree and had exploded on impact.

  Colton grabbed Silver and hauled her to him, giving her a fierce hug. “I died inside when I couldn’t find you back at the camp. And then I heard you scream.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He snuck up behind me.”

  He pulled her back and framed her face in his hands. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m...” She looked down and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Very dirty. And smelly. But yes, I’m fine.”

  “You smell wonderful to me.” He kissed her until they were both breathless. Then they held hands, laughing as they struggled to find their footing in the shallow water and climb out onto the muddy bank.

  Once they were on semidry land, they stood arm in arm watching the greedy fire licking at the wreckage and scorching the roots of the tree. Something white flashed in the water near the fire. A white shirt. Cato. He lay facedown in the water, his clothing ripped and b
urned.

  Silver shivered against Colton and hugged him around the waist. “Please tell me the boys are okay. The hostages.”

  “Last I saw they were bouncing around in the back of the Jeep with Mr. Jones driving like his pants were on fire. And they were laughing, having the time of their lives. They should all be fine.”

  “Thank God.” She let out a relieved breath. “Too bad we don’t have a Jeep. Or a boat. I don’t suppose you have a canoe hidden around here somewhere, do you?”

  “Fresh out. How far do you suppose we are from town?”

  “Let me put it this way. It’s going to be a long night.”

  A loud hiss sounded from some tall grasses behind them. They jerked around.

  “What was that?” Colton demanded.

  “I think it was an alligator.”

  “You think?”

  “Okay, definitely an alligator.”

  Another loud hiss sounded, along with what sounded like a low roar, closer, from their left.

  Colton pulled her back toward the water. A splash sounded behind them, then another.

  “Okay. This isn’t looking good.” A pair of green lights reflected at them from the water—alligator eyes lit by the light of the fire devouring the airboat and tree.

  “How fast do alligators run?” he asked.

  “Not as fast as they swim. But in a straight line, they can easily outrun a human in short bursts of speed.”

  “Okay. So we avoid the water, zigzag through the grass, pray we make it to the burning tree and hope that will keep them at bay until we figure something else out. That’s my plan. I’m hoping you have a better one.”

  A beautiful smile lit up her whole face. “Ask and you shall receive. Listen. Do you hear that?”

  He listened, and then he heard. The jet-engine whir of an airboat fan. Seconds later, powerful searchlights flickered over them.

  “Silver? Is that you?” Buddy Johnson’s gravelly voice called out.

  She waved her hand in the air, grinning like a kid.

  “I never thought I’d be happy to see another airboat,” Colton said.

  Less than a minute later they were on the boat, laughing and shaking hands with their rescuers—Buddy Johnson and three other men whom Colton had seen at Callahan’s before but whose names he didn’t remember, with Danny Thompson at the wheel.

  As Danny turned the boat back toward Mystic Glades, Buddy handed bottles of water to Colton and Silver from a cooler. “That’ll be four dollars. Each.”

  “Put it on my tab,” Colton growled.

  Buddy laughed and slapped his shoulder. “It’s on me. I’m just glad we could help, that Charlie stopped in at Callahan’s and—”

  “Wait, he didn’t go to the interstate to call the police like I told him?”

  “Didn’t have to. He said he kept checking for bars on the phone as he headed into Mystic Glades and voilà, bars. He made the call and swung over to Callahan’s. So your boss is on his way. Oh, he said he’d meet you there, at the bar. But he put a call out to get some state troopers out here and some kind of rescue team or other. I imagine they’re already out looking for those fellas from that camp. They won’t get away.”

  “Once they’re all rounded up,” Colton said, “they’ll start falling like dominoes all over each other to squeal on their boss in return for a lighter sentence. We’ll have the head of the drug operation, and Eddie’s killer, in no time. Hopefully some of the cocaine in that shed we torched survived the fire to be used as evidence.” He shrugged. “But if not, I’m sure there’s enough residue and eyewitnesses to overcome that.”

  “And the robbery ring will be stopped, too,” Silver said.

  Colton grimaced. “I suppose you’ll want me to speak for the boys and try to get any charges against them dropped in return for their testimony against the drug dealers.”

  She patted his chest. “Of course.”

  He kissed her. “I suppose I could do that for you.”

  The airboat slowed, then bumped gently against the dock.

  “We’re home,” Danny announced, and tied off the boat.

  Silver hugged him and smiled. “Thank you. And thank you, Buddy. Thank you all. Colton and I weren’t looking forward to a night with the gators.”

  They headed through the path to the street, talking about everything that had happened. When the group reached the street in front of the B and B, Silver tugged Colton to the side.

  “I’m filthy. I’m going to get a shower. And I want to check on Tippy and Jenks. They’re probably pulling their hair out by now. Neither of them ever expected to have to run everything completely on their own. You go on ahead to Callahan’s to meet up with Drew and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  He hesitated, and looked toward the inn, which was all lit up, with the lights on throughout the bottom floor and some of the rooms on the second. He reminded himself that there were tons of people—eight bedrooms’ worth—in the B and B. She wouldn’t be alone. He had nothing to worry about.

  Buddy turned toward him. “You coming, Colton? That boss of yours is probably already waitin’ on you by now.”

  “Go,” Silver said. “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t wait for his response. She hurried down the walkway and up the steps, then waved before heading inside. She pulled back the curtains from one of the front windows, blowing him a kiss before ducking back inside.

  Buddy patted Colton on the back, urging him toward Callahan’s. “You can wash up at the bar. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me how you and Silver met? The grapevine says you’re friends from way back. But I don’t remember her mentioning you before.”

  Not wanting to go into the details about being undercover, Colton steered the conversation to questions about Buddy’s mini-empire in Mystic Glades. Once he got Buddy talking about how to make money, he didn’t stop. Which suited Colton just fine.

  He noted his Mustang was parked in front of Callahan’s and, thankfully, didn’t look the worse for wear—not that he could see in the dark anyway. Daylight might show another story altogether.

  Once he stepped inside the bar, he was surprised by how full it was. Nearly every table was taken. And J.J. was running around with heavy trays of food and beer, laughing and flirting with all the customers. He noticed Charlie at a table in the far corner, laughing with some girls. He was probably bragging about his exploits and no doubt embellishing them considerably.

  Freddie hurried up to him and looked as though she was going to hug him, which was a scary thought in itself, but she wrinkled her nose and stopped a few feet away. “There’s a utility sink in the back of the kitchen. You might want to rinse off some of that mud in there. Here, I’ll show you.”

  She tugged him through the swinging kitchen doorway, which he didn’t mind, since Buddy was left with his friends, extolling his genius and how to take advantage of the current tourist market.

  Two cooks were running around at full speed, slapping burgers on the grill and throwing nachos in a pizza oven. When they stopped near the back door, Freddie waved him to the big, square sink with a hose hooked up to the faucet, which he eagerly took advantage of. There was a drain in the floor back here, so he washed off while she leaned against the far wall by the back door.

  “Heard you and Silver had a busy night. Where is she?”

  “At the B and B, washing up.” He grabbed the bar of soap sitting on the top of the sink and lathered up his hands. “You’re having a busy night, too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the place so full.”

  “Yeah, well, Tippy and Jenks about reached their limit trying to feed and take care of all those people at the inn, so I told ’em to bring them on up here for dinner.”

  Colton hesitated with his hands under the running water. He nodded at one of the cooks who hurried through and headed out the back door. “You’re saying all the guests are here?”

  “That’s what I’m sayin’.”

  He grabbed some paper towels and dried his hands. “What about Tippy
and Jenks? Are they at the B and B?”

  “Nah, they’re in the bar. Is there a problem?”

  He shrugged. Maybe, maybe not. He didn’t like the idea of Silver being alone, not with the boss of the drug-running operation still at large. He hurriedly dried off as best he could.

  A knock sounded on the back door. Freddie propped the door open for the cook to bring in a large box that he must have gotten from a storage area outside.

  Colton stepped past the door to go through the kitchen, then froze. Sitting in the parking lot behind the bar was a sky blue Mercedes, an old-fashioned one, from the eighties. And he’d just bet it was a diesel. “Freddie, whose car is that?”

  She leaned around the door. “Cato drives it mostly.”

  “Mostly? Who else drives it?”

  “Danny, sometimes. As a matter of fact, I think he drove it tonight.”

  Danny, the airboat captain. One of the new people Buddy had hired for the summer, right around the time the robbery and drug rings started up. And he knew these canals and waterways. He also knew every new person who came or went, courtesy of his role as boat captain bringing tourists to and from Mystic Glades. Hanging out while waiting for the tourists to have their “free” meal before a tour, he’d hear any gossip from the townspeople. He’d know everything going on.

  And he’d been in the boat tonight, hearing Colton and Silver talk about the operation being over, about men testifying against their boss. He’d also heard them talk about destroying the cache of drugs. Which meant he knew it was over, that he had nothing to lose.

  And every reason to hate him and Silver.

  “Where is he?” He hurried through the kitchen toward the bar.

  “Who?” Freddie called out after him.

  “Danny.”

  “In the bar as far as I know.”

  He shoved the swinging door open and it slammed back on its hinges, making J.J. jump in surprise as she approached the door.

  “Whoa, slow down there, Mr. Graham. What’s the hurry?”

  “Danny,” he said. “The boat captain. Where is he?” He scanned the bar, searching the groups of people around the room.

 

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