by Peggy Staggs
“Hello?” I walked out of the office and back to Phyllis’s desk.
“That piece of garbage is not supposed to have any control over Jack. I’m. Seriously. Pissed. Off.” I heard him take an angry breath. “I don’t trust March to do the right thing. Personal history aside, don’t you trust him, either.”
“I don’t know how to do this on my own, I can’t find Jack without him.” I wanted to believe Don would do the right thing. “Are these people we’re dealing with from Jack’s past?” Don was part of my past.
“Those who would want to punish Jack are either in a place where they won’t be doing anyone harm, or they’re dead.” He paused. “Or, I know where they are. This has a local feel to it, despite the tattoo or March.” I heard the apprehension in his voice. “Still...”
“You know more. Who are these men?”
“I need to check on something. I’m going to wake up a few people. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
With another promise to stay in contact, we said goodbye
Don was on his phone. It was so foreign seeing him here. Our small town wasn’t his world. I knew he used to be an agent, but that’s not who he was now. He’d given up the covert life for one of politics, back room deals, and parties. He’d traded his undercover existence for one on the society pages. I was sure the old Don March wasn’t much different than the one standing in Jack’s office. He was as ruthless as Jack was compassionate.
At parties, he’d demanded admiration. He got it by making covert deals, and I’d almost bet there was blackmail mixed in there for added insurance. I’d seen Don convince someone to come around to his way of thinking. He’d do whatever it took to get want he wanted.
Jack demanded nothing. I’d seen the look on his face as he pulled the trigger killing two men. I knew what it had cost him, and the reason he’d do it again if he had too. He wanted to make things right.
The catalyst in this whole situation was Don’s arrival. Why had he come all the way out here? Oh, sure, he said he wanted to tell me in person about getting my job back and to ask me to take him back—marry him. Then there was this mission he had for Jack. If those were the reasons, he’d only addressed one of them. What about the informant? Anyone could make the exchange. Why Jack? Why didn’t Don have a backup plan? Jack always had a plan ‘B.’
“Ensley,” Don called as he reached for his jacket and headed for the door. He motioned for me to join him. “Let’s go.”
“Phyllis, I’ll call you if we find anything.”
“I’ll do the same,” she assured me.
I bent down and gave Lois a hug. Her sad golden eyes appeared as lost and confused as I felt.
The cluster of gold jingle bells on the front door clanked against the glass as it closed behind me.
Outside, I got into the passenger’s seat. “Where are we going?”
“We’re headed for Max Jessen’s ranch. Do you know where it is? I have directions if you don’t.”
I nodded. “It’s half an hour out on a good day. With this storm, it’ll take forever to get there. I talked to Brad, and the Jessen’s are all still in Boise.”
“I know. That’s the reason we’re going.”
“We won’t make it in my car. Especially, if it keeps snowing like this. We’ve got to go get for Jack’s truck.”
“We’ll be fine.” His sharp tone had me glancing over at him.
Oh, please, he knew better. The last thing I wanted was to get stranded with Don. “Not if we’re stuck out in the snow, in the country, freezing to death. This SUV doesn’t have the clearance we’ll need. Jack’s big truck has snow tires, and it sits a lot higher than mine does.”
He turned down the road to Jack’s house.
The place was dark and cold. The wind blustered through the trees, sending the already fallen snow back into the air. It almost covered the gracefully weeping evergreens by the sandstone steps. I reminded myself I’d only known Jack for ten weeks.
His phone in my pocket weighed a thousand pounds. The first night I’d met him he’d held this phone, pressing the buttons so the lights would be on when I got to his house. A total stranger, to me. He knew Dad and Uncle Stan very well. Maybe they were the reasons he’d been so kind in the beginning. They weren’t the reason now. I swallowed the tears at the back of my throat.
“Ensley, do—are you, all right?” Don reached for my hand.
I pulled it away. “Of course, I’m not all right. This is overwhelming.” My stability quotient was down past the critical level. “All I want is to find Jack and you to leave. Don, there’s nothing you can do to get me to go back with you. My home is here now. I don’t want the job at JPL. I don’t want to live in D. C. This is the first time in my adult life I’ve felt at home.” That wasn’t strictly true. I felt at home when I was with Soph and her family.
He remained silent as he parked the SUV next to the garage. He didn’t look at me, he just glared at the garage. “Do you know where the keys are?”
“Keys. Yes. Around the side.” The cold assaulted me as I got out of my SUV and went to the planter next to the side door. Between the fight and the CSU techs, the snow was trampled. Only a thin new blanket of snow covered the sheltered area off the living room. Luke and Carl had taken the body away. I imagined I could still see the blood stain on the bricks. A shuddering sigh betrayed me. This was the same patio where I’d made a drunken pass at Jack on a chilly October night. I smiled. It had almost worked. He’d had the honor and the good sense to say no. I fished the key out of a planter.
Inside, I went to the pantry and plucked the extra set of truck keys from a bowl.
“The garage is this way.” I motioned down the hall.
When we left, I secured the house and set the alarm.
“Been here often?” Don asked as the garage door slid open.
“Of course, I have.”
“I know how he operates.”
“Not now.”
“You need to know—”
“I know what I need to.”
“He’s not the man you think he is.”
Chapter Six
Jack’s cell rang. I didn’t check to see who it was. I didn’t care, and it didn’t matter, it would be a string of numbers and letters. “Hello,” I said as I got in the truck and shut the door.
“Ensley, Brad. I’ve been sitting here being pissed at the weather and annoying some people with my phone calls. I have something. Have you heard of a couple by the name of Sharp, Shaver, or Shaw?”
“The Shaws?” I thought about them. I didn’t like them, but you don’t have to like your guests as long as they pay their bill and don’t steal or destroy things. “Yes, they stayed at the B&B for a couple of days. Why?”
Don got in the truck and slammed the door.
“It seems Max Jessen’s daughter uses all three names,” Brad was saying. “What did they look like?”
“She’s ordinary. Medium build, chin-length standard brown hair, and flat brown sunken eyes. The kind of person you’d walk by and not notice. He’s lean with slimy black hair and watery blue eyes. Oh, and his nose looks like it was broken and not set properly.”
“Sounds like them. I had a contact consider it, and they left Boise on Wednesday.”
“That’s the day they checked in. It was a last-minute reservation.” I slumped against the seat as Don started the truck. “But it can’t be his daughter. She’s in prison.”
“One is, one isn’t. The one who’s out is more dangerous than the one who’s in. She’s a problem all by herself, but pair her up with her bat-shit-crazy husband, and it’s time to lock up the kids and small animals. We’re talking a torture-little-creatures-and-bury-them-in-the-backyard psychopath. I got a call a few minutes ago, and the snow is letting up in Jackson. If it holds, they’ll get the runway plowed. If the pass opens, I’ll be there. I’ve got some men coming from Boise, too. I hope they can get there as soon as the storm lets up.”
If they were Brad’s men, it m
eant they had experienced finding kidnapped victims. “Are they your men?’
“In a way,” was all he said.
Interestingly vague for a man who is nothing if not straight forward. Don backed out of the garage. Here the snow showed no sign of letting up. If anything, it was coming down harder. There had to be easily a foot and a half of new snow since Don showed up on my doorstep.
“I know how tough Jack is. How could a few amateurs overpower him?”
“They couldn’t, that’s what’s troubling. Crazy and company are no match for him armed or unarmed. Let me talk to March.”
Their conversation hadn’t gone well the last time. But I’m ever the optimist. I handed the phone to Don. “Brad would like to speak to you.”
“Hughes again,” he said as he took the phone.
“Yes.”
“Great.” Into the phone, he said, “Now what?”
I could imagine Brad’s response.
“No. I had nothing to do with his kidnapping, and I resent the accusation.” Don paused. “My contact couldn’t possibly be involved. He has no idea who was coming to make the exchange. I’ll see what I can find out.” Don tossed the phone back to me.
I had no idea what to say. If Don had anything to do with this, I’d...I don’t know...shoot him. To Brad, I said, “We’ve got to find out who we’re up against. If they’re like the men in October, we won’t be any match for them.” Don was no Jack.
“We’ll find him,” Brad hesitated then said, “I know how much you mean to him.”
How’d Brad know? I didn’t. Oh, I knew Jack cared. He’d held me in his arms and kissed me, but he’d never taken it any further. I wasn’t ready for more, I was still off balance. Today, I should be wrapping gifts, putting cookies on a Christmas plate and enjoying Jack’s company. Instead, I was searching for him in a horrible storm. All I knew was, I had to find him before it was too late. “Thanks, Brad.” I couldn’t keep the fear from my voice. What if I was already too late?
“Wait, I have more. Daughter number two made threats against everyone involved in the resort case. Mostly you and Jack.”
He was talking about my dad’s case. “I know about the threats. But people say things in moments of stress they never follow through on. When nothing happened, I thought it was all over.” Outside the snow fell with such vigor, I couldn’t see half a block ahead.
“We all did. Tell me you’re not going to the Jessen place.”
I didn’t say anything.
“When you do, do not go alone. Do you hear me? Take someone with you. Several someone’s. I don’t know who is out there. The man on Jack’s patio with the Islamic tattoo worries me. I’m waiting for a call. When I get it, a lot of questions will be answered.”
“Don is with me. We can stop and pick up–”
“Let me speak to him,” Brad said. There was a lot of that tonight...this morning.
I held out the phone to Don. “He wants to talk to you again.” There was a dynamic going on here I didn’t understand. I knew Jack was Delta Force—or had been—because of the medallion on the keychain he’d given me. Don appeared to be in charge of Jack, yet Brad said he wasn’t supposed to be. Brad seemed to be able to tell Don what to do, but Brad was FBI and Don was CIA. All very confusing.
“Great.” He put the phone to his ear as he slowed to take a corner. “Yes. I’m quite capable.” His voice was as stiff as his posture. “I’m aware of—I don’t appreciate being—” Don pushed the end bar. For a split second, I thought he’d crush the phone—my lifeline to Jack. As always, he regained his composure. “Nice friends you have out here.” He dropped the phone in my lap.
“Brad told me a couple—the Shaws—who were staying at the B&B, may be responsible for Jack’s kidnapping,” I explained about Max’s two daughters, the one in prison and one free. “If Brad’s right and I’m sure he is, we’ve got to find Jack.” It occurred to me. “There were just the two dead men on the receipt from the motel?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’m trying to figure out what we’re up against.” I shook my head. “All I know for sure is, we have two dead bodies and the Shaws. It would take more than one man and one woman to overpower Jack.”
“Trace must be slipping in his old age. He should have been able to handle a bunch of untrained civilians.”
Nice compassion. I didn’t look at Don. It would only make me angrier. Not looking didn’t work. “Why are you helping me find Jack? And don’t tell me it’s the exchange. Because you said that time has passed.”
“No. Not yet. I still have a chance to make it myself. The problem is the kidnappers took the cash I brought for my informant.”
Don turned the truck toward the police station. “We need some weapons.”
“You don’t care if we find him, do you?”
“No.”
I sat there stunned. I knew these two didn’t like each other, but this was so much more than a professional rivalry. More than I’m going to get even. Much more. This hatred went deep on Don’s side. I knew Jack didn’t have any use for Don, but he’d never expressed this level of animosity. By the front door of the sheriff’s office sat one of the official trucks.
“Maybe Oliver’s there,” I said. “We should take him with us.” Bringing along an ally sounded like an excellent idea to me.
“Oliver?”
“He’s one of Jack’s deputies. Nice man.”
“We don’t need nice,” Don said as he parked. “We need experience. I’m not taking some Barney Fife along to bungle things.”
“Don—” What? I figured pointing out he was an ass wouldn’t solve anything. “We can’t go alone. They took Jack, but only after he killed two of them.”
“I’m aware of his skills.” He shut off the truck. “I’ve been in the field. I know how to take care of myself.”
My cell rang again. “Hello.” I didn’t get out of the truck.
“Boss, you haven’t called. I’m worried.”
“Oh, Jane, I’m so sorry.” She’d been around the Shaws more than I had. “What you think of the Shaws.”
“He had a mean side to him. I caught him trying to kick little Mattie. I was set to throw them out when Mrs. Shaw came along and apologized. She said he had a fear of cats. I didn’t buy it, but since they were leaving later, I let it go and took Mattie with me.” I could imagine a full-grown man kicking my slash our little seven-pound kitty hadn’t set well. “Mrs. Shaw wasn’t very friendly. Real touchy, kind of a chip on her shoulder attitude. I kept thinking something was familiar about her. I still can’t put my finger on it. It’s been bothering me.”
“What if I told you she was Max Jessen’s daughter?”
“He only has the one. She’s in jail,” Jane’s words were slow as if she were pondering the idea.
“Brad Hughes told me he has another one.”
After a few seconds, Jane said, “Hm. Back before he married, he ran with a girl from down to Driggs. He quit bringing her around. Everyone figured she got smart and dumped him. She may have gotten pregnant. The child would be about Mrs. Shaw’s age.”
“Have you been in their room since they left?”
“I’m heading up now. I haven’t cleaned. I was getting things ready for Christmas Day. What do you want me to look for?”
I turned to Don. “She’s in the Shaws room. Where should she search?”
“Put her on speaker. Jane, Don March. Look in the trash cans, on the desk or table, anywhere you’d find paper.”
“It’ll take a second,” Jane said.
“I’ll wait.” Don positioned the phone on the dash.
I could hear her moving things around. Finally, she said, “I found some notes. They don’t make any sense.”
“Listen carefully. I don’t want you to leave the building. You’re safe there, they aren’t after you.” He stopped. “We’ll come and get you. Right now, read what’s on the paper—” Around us, the lights went out. “Hello. Hello?” He handed me Jack’s pho
ne. “I lost the connection.”
“The power failure must have affected the cell tower, too.” At least, we had the radio in Jack’s truck. “Let’s go get Jane.”
“She’ll be fine.” Don opened the truck door.
“No. We need to make sure she’s safe.” We couldn’t leave her with no protection. “At least let’s go get her and bring her back to the police station. It isn’t far.”
“They have no interest in her, or they would have taken her before now.”
“We need to know what she found.” Maybe that would change his mind.
Don got out of the truck.
His mind hadn’t changed.
“Come on,” he called.
I had to convince him to go get Jane. I’d go myself, but he had the only set of keys. “Give me the keys. I’m going after her.”
“No. We’ll go get her later. Right now, we have more important things to deal with.”
The only thing more important than going to get Jane was finding Jack. I turned and walked toward the B&B. I’d made the trip lots of times. “I’ll go check on her myself.”
The response I got was swift and fierce.
Don spun me around. “No. You’re. Not.” The instant he did, he realized he’d overreacted and let go of me. “Are you giving up on Trace?” He took a half step back. “Think about this logically. They have what they want, they aren’t going to risk coming out of their hiding place to get Jane.”
It made sense. The problem was, bad guys, aren’t always rational. “Brad told me Mrs. Shaw is Max Jessen’s daughter,” I said as I caught up with him.
“Jessen is the one who tried to kill you in October.” It hadn’t been a question.
I didn’t like the fact he was keeping close track of me. Or, any track at all. “How do you know these things?”
“Police report.”
“Jack sent you the police report?” I was sure that hadn’t been voluntary. I knew Don had requested a copy of my dad’s case file be given to me last fall. I didn’t see information flowing in Don’s direction willingly. Especially, after Don’s confession that he didn’t care if we found Jack.