by Becki Willis
“Another fool, intent on saving the world,” Franks spat. He looked oddly out of place in the forest setting, wearing his pinstriped suit and shiny shoes. In even more of a contrast, the smart bow tie did not jibe with the gun he held in his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s good money in the effort, but only if you know how to work the system.”
“So you were the mastermind behind Modern Power?” Kenzie let the skepticism in her tone offer the insult.
“Of course I was. Lawrence could never come up with such a brilliant plan. Nor would he lower his lofty standards to be involved in it. Not willingly. Pompous ass.” Anger contorted his thin face with unbecoming harsh lines.
“How did you get him to go along with it?” Makenna asked. She batted at an imaginary gnat, drawing Franks’ attention while Kenzie took an undetected step away from her. She let her arms fall to her sides as she asked, “How did you get his signature?”
“He signs whatever papers I put under his nose,” the petite man said with a superior laugh. “It was no different back then. I suggested he support the gallant efforts of Modern Power and he was more than happy to trust my judgment.”
“So he had no idea who was behind Modern Power?” As Kenzie asked the question, Makenna took a sly step to the left. Franks had them cornered against the log railing overlook, but if she and her sister split up and ran in opposite directions, at least one of them had a chance of getting away.
“Not a clue,” Franks bragged. “The partners were kept secret from one another. Only one other person knew all the players.”
“Joseph Mandarino.”
“That’s right, Daddy Dearest. So you can see, with the Presidential bid so close within our grasp, we cannot have any nasty little secrets from the past re-surfacing, now can we? Your father took something from me before he disappeared.” His voice turned cold and harsh. “I want it back.”
“What was it?” Another question from Makenna, another step for Kenzie.
“A list of names.”
Kenzie shifted on her feet, edging ever slightly to the right as she lowered her arms and taunted him. “Is that all? That hardly sounds like something worth killing over.” She slid one arm behind her, fingers grasping for the tall thorny stem that tickled her thigh.
“Not just any names, little girl. A list of some of the most powerful men in Washington. Each one of them a founding member of Modern Power. Each and every one of them just as guilty as the other.”
“Except for Senator Lawrence. His name is on the list.” Kenzie tugged on the stem, the sharp thorns biting into her flesh. She struggled to keep the pain off her face as she uprooted the only weapon she could find, pathetic though it was.
“We needed a scapegoat. Who knew the weakest link might one day have the opportunity to become the most powerful man in the nation?” When he shrugged, the gun tipped sideways.
“Your shoes!” Kenzie cried suddenly. “You’ve gotten your shiny shoes all dirty!”
Startled by the outlandish comment, Bernard Franks made the mistake of glancing down. Both women spurred into motion, darting past him on either side. Kenzie took a split second to slap him with the thorny vine as she passed, twisting it so that it snarled around his wrist. Headless to the skin ripped from her own fingers, she jerked on the vine as she ran. She felt the momentum spin the little man off balance and heard the gun clatter to the ground, but she dared not look back.
Close on Makenna’s heels, she cried, “Run, run!”
“Hardin!” Makenna screamed as she raced through the woods.
They sprinted over the narrow path, jumping roots, dodging bushes, slapping into vines and brush in their haste to get away. A middle-aged couple headed toward them on the trail, cameras in hand. “Go back!” Makenna warned as they raced toward the couple. “Man with a gun!”
She veered right around the couple, toward the safety of the more traveled trail and, more importantly, the spot they had left the men. Kenzie dodged the couple by going left. Trees and a tangle of dense bushes pushed her away from the path and further into the forest.
“Kenzie!” Makenna called when she realized they had been separated.
“Go! Find the men!” Kenzie’s voice came from within the trees.
Makenna raced up the trail toward The Basin, screaming for Hardin and Travis.
“Here!” She finally heard Hardin’s sharp bark. She had already made one loop of the path, thinking the men would have progressed at least that far on their journey. Almost out of breath, she raced around the trail, finding them in almost the same location where she had left them.
She stopped short when she saw them just off the bridge. Hardin was struggling to hold on to a man in a dark suit, arms stuffed behind him, while Travis knelt beside the prone body of another man. A bloody rock lay near the pool of blood seeping from the man’s temple. Makenna bent over at the waist to steady herself and to regain what was left of her ragged breath. Finally, she managed to fling an arm out and huff the words, “Ken-Kenzie! In woods. Run-running from man.”
“What man?” Travis barked, immediately on his feet. “Lawrence?”
Out of breath and too confused to recall his name, Makenna shook her head. Her hand bobbed in the air as she tried to indicate the man’s slight stature. “Sh-Short. Mustache. B-Bow tie.”
“Franks?” Travis asked incredulously.
She nodded and managed enough breath for a few more words. “Yes. Gun. Go. Go find her.”
As Travis flew into motion, the man Hardin wrestled with tried to break free of the Ranger’s ironclad grasp. Over his flailing elbows, Hardin tried to see for himself that Makenna was safe. “Are you okay?” he demanded.
“Just-Just out of shape,” she admitted, bent over once again.
When the man twisted again, Hardin reached his limit. “I warned you, damn it!” he growled. He gripped the man’s neck and squeezed the precise pressure points that made the man grow gradually limp. He fell face down in a heap at Hardin’s feet, just as the bleeding man groaned.
“I got this one,” Makenna said, waving her fiancé away from the man crumpled at his feet. She plopped unceremoniously onto the unconscious man’s back, grateful for the cushion of his body as she rested her screaming legs.
Hardin grinned as he went to check on the bleeding man. He shuffled through the man’s pockets and beneath his still-prone form, until he found the gun he was seeking. Travis had taken the other man’s gun.
“Should-Should you go help Travis?” Makenna pushed a handful of curls from her sweaty brow.
A grin still played across Hardin’s handsome face. “Even though I’m sure you could handle these two all by yourself, I don’t intend to let you out of my sight anytime in the foreseeable future.” He shook his head as he glanced down at the man she sat atop so nonchalantly. “Have I told you lately how much I love you, Makenna Reagan?”
“It’s been a while,” she said with reproach. “At least half an hour.”
“Then let me make this very clear. I not only love you, I absolutely adore you.” His blue eyes twinkled. “And I can’t wait to start our life together. I say we get married, as soon as we get home.”
Makenna looked at the man he stood over, the one bleeding into the dirt of the forest trail but still unconscious. “We might have one or two other details to take care of first.” The amused look fell from her face as she looked past him, into the trees where Travis had disappeared. “Please, God, let Travis find her first,” she whispered.
***
Kenzie ran through the trees blindly. There were hiking trails all through the woods, but she had yet to come across one. The terrain was littered with rocks and thorns and vines, trees and bushes. She hurdled more than one hobblebush, dodged fallen logs, circled round spruce and sugar maples, ripped through vines of wild strawberries and raspberries. Her leg screamed in pain, as much from the stinging vines as from the untimely race through the forest. Hadn’t the doctor warned her against running? And jumping? Of cours
e, he probably did not recommend being chased by an armed assailant, either.
The ground beneath her feet was rising in altitude, making her leg muscles ache all the more. Kenzie finally stopped behind one particularly large yellow birch, trying to hide herself behind its scarred trunk. She gasped for breath and tried to listen for the sounds of Franks approaching behind her. In her wild escape, she paid little heed to what direction she ran, but she knew she was traveling away from the Baby Flume. Perhaps if she turned in, she could find the river and follow it back to the point she had last seen Travis.
Travis! Why hadn’t be found her yet? Had Franks brought men with him? Of course he did, she realized immediately. He always has bodyguards around! New worries plagued her. What if they had apprehended Travis and Hardin? What if Makenna had run straight to them? What if…
Stop it. Stop it and think! Kenzie chided herself. She put a bloody palm to her forehead and pressed, willing a brilliant thought into her head. None such came.
Hearing movement off to the left, Kenzie knew it was time to move. She slithered from one tree to another, then another. Soon she heard the babble of the river. Sprinting forward, she knew if she could reach the water, she could follow the winding stream back downhill.
She jumped over a rotting log and landed in a forest seep. The soggy soil, wet with groundwater bleeding to the surface, sucked at her feet and caused her to fall. She landed with a loud splat and very little dignity. Even as she tried to pull herself free of the moss and foamflower, she was trapped by the clinging muck.
“Well, well, what have we here?” She heard Bernard Franks approach. “No, don’t get up, my dear. Lay there wallowing in the mud. I’m rather enjoying the view.”
Kenzie tried once more to get up, but her leg was not co-operating. It seemed content to lie in the ooze of the forest floor, even while a madman stood above her, hoisting a gun. Kenzie reached up to push a curly tendril out of her eye. As her hand fell back down over her camera, inspiration hit. She managed to discreetly push the ‘record’ button. Even if the camera was not pointed in the right direction, it might pick up some of the conversation. If she didn’t live through this ordeal, she might at least be able to record her murder. Franks would not get away with it, not if Travis had this recording. Travis, her heart whispered.
“I’ve had just about enough of you, Miss Reese,” Franks said tightly. “I have invested my entire life in Harry Lawrence’s career. I have groomed him and trained him and led him to this moment. He will be President, my dear, and I will not allow anyone to stand in my way. Lawrence will have the title, but I will be the one with the power. And the only ones standing between that power and me are your father and his two brats. Enough is enough.”
“What about my mother?” Kenzie jeered. “And what if Lawrence doesn’t get the nomination?”
“Your mother was taken care of long ago.” His cold words reminded Kenzie of something he had said earlier, but she had no time to dwell on the memory or his cryptic meaning. He was speaking again, his tone demonic. “And he will get the nomination. I have a far greater influence in Washington than you can even imagine, Miss Reese.”
“Blackmail, I’m sure,” Kenzie said. “Those names on the list could be pretty damning, I imagine. Not to mention the signatures on the contracts and the ledger copies.”
Franks’ normally pale skin blanched to gray. “What-What ledger?” He forced his voice to come out calm and quiet, despite the panic she saw in his eyes.
“The one my father was smart enough to copy and hide.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Kenzie goaded. “Then how do I know who those ten mysterious accounts belong to? Harry Lawrence for one, although I’m sure you were the actual account holder. What about Gerald Borden? Richard Lansbury? Zachariah Hunt? Are those some of the names on your list, Franks? Pretty powerful people, just the kind you’d like to have under your thumb.”
“You’re lying. You have no proof.” He waggled the gun in front of her as he rationalized, “You simply heard your father talking. You overheard those names!”
Still sprawled in the mud, Kenzie shrugged. She had managed to get her good foot solidly beneath her; now if her other leg would only co-operate. “Maybe,” she agreed. “Or maybe I could recite all of them to you.” It was Makenna who had the uncanny memory for details, but suddenly a number popped into Kenzie’s mind. She had stared at it enough over the past few days. Even as she recited the number, an old memory teased her brain, of the day her father asked her to look for a number for him. “Does the number 391-550156-0101 sound familiar? A favorite account of yours, perhaps?”
The gray tint of his skin morphed into an unhealthy shade of purple. Rage filled his narrow face. “I’ll kill you, you bitch!” he threatened. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“If you pull that trigger, two Texas Rangers will be on your back immediately.”
“You Texans,” he sneered. “So impressed with your legendary Rangers. You forget I have…Rangers of my own, so to speak. You don’t think I came here alone, unprepared, do you? I sent my men to take care of your Ranger friends. And yes, I know Travis Merka is a Ranger,” he sneered, seeing the surprise in her face. “Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
“A very sick man, obviously.”
“No, Miss Reese, a very rich and powerful man.” He had regained his control once again, enough to speak in a cold, even voice. “And as I said, no one is going to stand between me and that power.”
“What about Harry Lawrence? How do you know he’ll keep you on staff once – if – he’s elected?”
“You’re forgetting, I have very incriminating evidence against him. He’ll do whatever I tell him to do.”
“What if he can prove it was all a set-up?” She had managed to get her other foot beneath her.
“He can’t,” Franks said with confidence. “But if for some reason the man should grow a back-bone, I have my ways of keeping him in line.” His eyes glowed with a fevered light. “It would be a shame if another of his children should be the victim of an… accident.”
Kenzie gasped. “You killed his daughter?”
“She was a loose end.” Franks said the words as if they were justification. “Naturally, Harry doesn’t know. And you won’t be around long enough to enlighten him. Just tell me where your father is, or how you know whose names are on the list, and I may decide to let your sister live.”
Kenzie scooped up a handful of the smelly, slimy soil that still threatened to suck her in. The grit bit into her skinned hands, but she ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to her screaming calves as she pushed up from the muck, at the same time flinging her handful of mud into his face.
She scrambled out of the seep as he bellowed in rage, but her feet could not find purchase in the boggy soil. She whimpered as she slid back down into the filthy mix of mud, moss and leaves.
“I. Detest. Filth.” Bernard Franks was furious as the brown ooze slid down his cheek and plopped onto his perfectly pressed suit. He was so angry his entire body shook.
Another voice spoke from the trees behind them, the perfect intonation of solid steel. Relief flooded through Kenzie’s body when she heard Travis speak and she went limp, slipping helplessly into the mud up to her elbows. “I feel the same way,” Travis said coldly. “And you, Bernard Franks, are pure filth.”
Knowing the voice came from behind him, Franks used it to his advantage. “You may not see it, but I have a gun aimed on your precious little slut.”
“And I have one aimed on you.”
“I’ll kill her.” Franks’ voice rose with panic.
“I’ll kill you.” Travis’s voice remained flat, even.
“She’ll still be dead.”
“So will you.”
Franks tried a new tactic. “Let me go, and I let her live.”
“Drop the gun and we’ll discuss it.”
“No deal, Ranger.”
Travis cocked his pistol. �
�Your call.”
Franks’ hand was unsteady as he held the gun on Kenzie. She pushed herself up from the mud, determined not to die in the filth. Besides, it would ruin her camera and whatever evidence she had recorded.
“Don’t move!” Franks warned her.
“I don’t like filth any more than you do,” she informed him coldly. “If you’re going to kill me, at least let me stand on my own two feet, not wallowing around in the mud like a helpless pig.” As she used her hands to haul herself up, she scooped up another huge handful of muck. She dared a glance toward Travis, praying he saw the subtle move.
Kenzie got to her feet, slipping once before she found solid footing. “After all, you’re the pig!” She flung the mud at Franks’ gun, knocking it slightly off target. It fired in the air, splintering the limb of a nearby hemlock. Travis’s bullet fired milliseconds later, slamming into the suited man’s shoulder and spinning him round.
A bright red stain bloomed on Bernard Franks’ shoulder. He pulled his gun down, training it on the Ranger, but his aim was bad. As his bullet flew aimlessly into the forest, Travis’s bullet buried dead center into Franks’ forehead. He fell to the ground with a surprising thud, given his small size.
“Oh my god!” Kenzie cried, her muddy and bloodied hands flying to her face. “Oh my god!”
Travis ran to her, jumping over the crumpled body of Bernard Franks. For his long legs, it was hardly a stretch. He grabbed Kenzie into his arms and pulled her hard against his chest.
“Are you all right?” he demanded roughly.
“Y-Yes.” The word came out muffled against his chest.
“I thought I saw blood.”
From the corner of her eye, Kenzie saw an abundance of blood, pouring from the neat hole in Bernard Franks’ head. It pooled beneath him, saturating his pinstriped suit and running downhill toward his once-shiny wing tipped shoes. “My-My hand,” she explained. “Briers.”
“God, woman, what were you doing, standing up to him like that? Are you crazy?” Once the danger had passed, fear set in. Travis gripped her arms and held her away from her, his face dark with anger. “Do you have a death wish or something? Taunting him like you did? Daring him to let you stand up before he killed you?” He shook her slightly, his face growing pale as he said the words ‘killed you’.