by JP Ratto
Still holding Glick down on the ground, I put my finger to my lip indicating quiet and listened. There was no sound other than an occasional bird chirping or the rustling of the tops of the trees. I looked down at Glick and noticed his changed appearance. I wondered how long he might have been on my tail without my knowing. His panic and claims of someone following him became suspect. I yanked his shirt collar with both hands, lifting his head toward me.
“Who’s gonna kill you, Glick? I mean besides me, you little shit.”
“I…I don’t know who he is. But I know he’s dangerous. When he saw me, he took a shot at me. I ran like hell.”
“No one’s following you. He wanted to scare you.” I couldn’t help smiling at the memory of terror on Glick’s face.
“It’s not funny, Holt. Look, you gotta let me go. I’m on a case. I have orders to report what I find to the sheriff. It’s a matter of life and death.”
“How about you tell me what you found or it’ll be a matter of your life or death.”
Glick opened his mouth to speak and stopped. His face looked as if he’d turned to stone. I’d heard the faint snap of twigs too.
I whispered, “Get up.” I grabbed his arm and showed him the end of my muzzle. “And keep quiet.”
Glick barely nodded and lifted himself off the ground. I led him to a tree away from the path and listened for more signs someone was there in the woods with us. Sweat poured down the ex-officer’s face. He jumped back against the tree with the rush of some nearby bushes. I raised my gun and took aim just as a rabbit bolted in front of us.
“Goddammit,” Glick muttered and wiped his face with his shirtsleeve.
“C’mon,” I told him. “You and I are going to see the sheriff together.”
Glick shook his head.
“Don’t give me any trouble,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m using all my powers of self-control not to beat you to a pulp and leave you here to rot.”
I turned Glick around and put my gun to his back. He stiffened, moved forward, and then stopped. He swung his head toward me.
“Holt, I think you or I should call the sheriff. By the time we get to town, the guy might be gone.”
I hated to admit it, but Glick was right. I pulled out my cellphone. No service.
“It’s a good idea, but we need to get to the clearing up ahead before we can use our phones. In the meantime, tell me what you saw. Does it have anything to do with Karen Martin?”
“Yeah. But my orders are to go right to the sheriff.”
I didn’t know whether to trust this guy or not. If he had information that could lead me to Karen Martin, I needed to know right away.
“Listen to me. The girl’s life may be in danger. Tell me what you saw. If you know where she is, tell me. I can’t wait for the sheriff. I need to get to the girl as soon as possible.”
We were fifteen feet from the edge of the overlook. Before we stepped from the woods, Glick stopped walking again.
“When we get the sheriff on the phone, I’ll tell her what I know, then you’ll know. You can do whatever you want with the information after that.”
Glick wasn’t so dumb after all. He’d found a way to protect himself from my anger.
“Who are you working for, Glick? Is it Douglas Cain?”
His expression was all the answer I needed. Still, he tried to deny it.
“I don’t know who that is, and I’m not at liberty to say who hires me. Same as you, Holt.”
Glick made a mistake and gave me a smug grin. I right hooked him in the chin and sent him flying against a nearby oak. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to his feet.
“I’m all out of patience, Glick. Forget the sheriff. Tell me where the girl is now or you’ll be leaving these woods on a stretcher.” He looked like he didn’t quite believe me so I hit him again. I prepared for another swing. That did the trick.
“Stop—stop! You’re crazy too, Holt. Shit. Okay, there’s a place a mile north of here.”
“What place? C’mon, you asshole, I need details. Did you see the girl?”
“No, but I heard someone. Sounded like a girl. Then this huge, ugly son-of-a-bitch came outside, spotted me, and started shooting.”
“Tell me exactly where this place is. Point to it on the map.” I pulled out the map, opened it to where we stood, and showed it to Glick. He scratched his chin, taking a moment to scan it.
“Uh, there,” he said and removed his fingers from his face and pointed to the spot on the map.
“Down!” I screamed, recognizing the suppressed shot from a high caliber rifle as it reverberated through the trees. I dropped to the ground and rolled for cover toward an oak.
The shooter took another shot, the bullet racing over my head as I burrowed deeper into the ground. His shots were too close to the mark given all the trees that blocked his aim. He was nearby. I pulled up, my back to the tree. Making sure Glick was not in the way, I sent a few rounds into the woods in the direction of the gunfire. I grabbed a pair of binoculars, but couldn’t see any sign of the assailant.
Within minutes, police sirens blared in the distance. A resident living below the clearing must have heard the shots. I replaced the magazine in my gun and inched toward Glick, who took cover six feet from me.
“Glick, I hear the sheriff’s cars. Glick.” When he didn’t respond, I rolled him over.
Ronald Glick lay still, his eyes wide and lifeless, a bullet in his head.
Chapter 36
Crocker raced toward the barn, hunched over and dripping sweat. He stopped and knelt in the brush to listen for movement behind him. Nothing.
Who was that skinny bastard?
Seeing an intruder at the tree line around the barn was a surprise. Seeing him talking to Holt was a shock to the system. Did the skinny guy hear the girl scream? How much did he tell Holt? In that moment, Crocker wanted to end the mission. He wanted kill the intruder, kill Holt, return to the barn, and finish the girl.
Then Crocker heard the police sirens.
I don’t have much time before they search for me.
Not sensing anyone in pursuit, Crocker rose from a crouch and continued running. The trail was laden with low hanging branches that stung his face. Thick roots protruded from the soft dirt like dark tentacles reaching for his ankles. Crocker’s mind raced through scenarios, rejecting each one as not practical, too risky, or not working with the end game he planned. He decided, given the current situation, his original plan still worked best.
Stopping at the edge of the trees, he again listened for hunters while inspecting the red barn. The silence was comforting. Earlier, Crocker had found a rake and used it to erase his tire tracks and nearly all of his footprints. The ground showed no evidence anyone had stumbled upon his refuge. The dilapidated barn and surrounding grounds looked as he left it.
Ten minutes. He would give himself ten minutes to calm the girl and setup the barn.
Rushing to the root cellar, Crocker brushed aside the camouflage and lifted the creaky wooden door. The steps down softened under his weight as he descended. The girl lay exactly as he left her. “Okay, listen. I’m going to give you another injection. You’ll take a three-hour nap. I’ll be back later. Sound good?”
Karen cringed, shook off his grip, and rasped over the gag, “Bastard.”
“Ah. I like feisty women, but not today. So shut the fuck up.”
Crocker reached into his backpack and retrieved the syringe and vial. He inserted the needle and drew the clear fluid into the syringe, tapped out the air bubble and injected her with the contents. Crocker pocketed the empty syringe and exited the root cellar.
He again camouflaged the cellar door with thick branches and leaves. There was little time before the police would arrive. He hurried to the ladder at the center of the barn and climbed to the hayloft. Opening the sliding door, he surveyed the surrounding area for an ambush. A humid gust of warm wind rushed past him. The line of oaks and low junipers barely budged. Crocker smell
ed the air for the exhaust of vehicles hiding nearby. No trace of fumes. He turned away and descended the ladder.
An idea flashed in Crocker’s mind and he grinned. He walked over to the rough-hewn stanchion next to the ladder, took out his knife, and quickly carved a symbol.
Crocker jumped in the truck and backed it out of the barn. He stopped outside, opened the toolkit, and chose a claw hammer and some nails. He nailed the sliding front doors shut.
His final task made him smile. He walked to the woods behind the barn and retrieved the two empty cans of gasoline.
Time’s up. He ran to his truck and drove away.
Chapter 37
My first reaction when I realized Glick was dead was to leave him for the sheriff and head north. If Glick’s killer had kidnapped Karen Martin and she was still alive, he would need to get back to her. The fact he followed Glick meant the girl was some place secure. I needed to find that place. I feared the worst—that I wouldn’t make it in time.
I should have expected Broome law enforcement’s quick arrival, but was still surprised to see Chief Deputy Brimmer barrel through the trees in his police car. Brimmer didn’t bother to ask what happened. He called Doctor Clancy, who arrived promptly to attend to the body. A few minutes later Sheriff Grange arrived at the scene. I groaned as I thought of all the evidence destroyed in the process of the emergency response.
The sheriff exited her car, eyeing me as she made her way toward Clancy. She squatted down next to the medical examiner. Clancy spoke in soft tones while pointing to parts of Glick’s body. I moved closer. Maddie Grange rose. “Let me see your gun and your hands, please.”
I pulled my gun from its holster and handed it to her, then held out both hands, palms up.
Maddie examined my gun and then my hands. “Turn them over, please.” Her eyes widened at the bruises on my right knuckles. I knew what she was thinking.
“I admit I hit him, but I didn’t kill him. You just have to find a shell casing to determine the shot wasn’t fired from my gun.”
Maddie gave the scene a cursory glance. “Brimmer, check for shell casings.” She turned back to me. “Where did the shots come from?”
I pointed to the general area. Brimmer nodded and headed in that direction with a couple of volunteer deputies. I didn’t know whom we were dealing with, but I knew he was a pro. The bullet hit Glick right between the eyes. He must have gone down with the first shot. From what I’d discovered while hiking in the woods and the precision of the bullet in Glick’s head, I believed the killer had some military training. If that was the case, Broome’s country cops were no match for him. They’d need all the help they could get. I showed the sheriff the approximate place on the map Glick pointed out before he was shot. Maddie stopped the deputy and gave him additional orders to search for the sniper, then turned to me. “Let’s go.” She asked for my machete and then ushered me into her car and drove to town.
I used the time to collect my thoughts and get my story straight—which was somewhat straightforward. I was hiking in the woods, met Glick, who said he was being followed, and bang, someone shot him. I gave her my thoughts on the skill level of the perpetrator.
***
In her office, Sheriff Grange drummed her fingers on her desk. She watched me through slits formed with both eyelids. I had given her my straightforward story and waited for her response.
She gave up the drumroll and leaned back in her chair.
“I have a feeling I wouldn’t be wrong to assume there’s a strong connection between you and the deaths of two people in my town.”
“I wasn’t even in Broome when the girl died, and I didn’t know Ronald Glick.”
“You may not have known him personally, but there’s a connection. We found a black sedan, rented to Glick.”
“So?”
“So, inside was a notebook with some very interesting details. Did you know he was tailing you?”
Leave it to Glick to screw me even after he’s dead. If I said I didn’t know, I would look like an amateur. If I said I did, I’d have to admit to a connection. I decided to go with something from column A and column B.
“I knew someone was following me. I didn’t know why.”
“And you had no interest in finding out why? C’mon, Lucas, do I look like an idiot?”
In fact, Madeline Grange looked rather attractive. She still wore her uniform buttoned to the neck, but her unbound hair brushed her shoulders and neck like fiery feathers. My thoughts must have shown on my face. She pushed her hair behind her ears and turned away from me to glance out the window, which afforded me another nice view. I gathered my wits and thought Scully’s remark about the last time I was with a woman was stuck somewhere in my subconscious.
“Sheriff, it doesn’t matter if there’s a connection. What matters is we both want Karen Martin found.”
“Yes, and you still haven’t told me the real reason you need to find her. It’s more than a coincidence that a New York City PI comes to a remote Pennsylvania town in search of someone’s daughter, who then disappears, and two people are murdered.”
“Karen Martin was missing before I came to Broome.”
“I suspect you’re not the only one looking for her. And that leads me to wonder who Karen Martin is? Who are her biological parents?”
“You know I can’t say without betraying confidentiality, Madd—”
“Stop!”
I could almost see the steam rise out of Maddie’s nose and ears. This woman was clearly frustrated with me, so I let her continue.
“I’ve got two murders already, and it’s a good bet there will be a third if you don’t tell me what you know.” She paused. “Look, I thought we were going to be honest with each other—share our information.”
“Yes and regarding Glick’s death, I told you all I know.”
“All you know?”
“Yes. I have no idea who shot him. I’m not certain Glick’s death is related to Karen Martin’s disappearance. But my gut tells me it is.”
“Yes, I believe so too.”
“So, are we still friends?” I gave her a coy smile. “Can we work together?”
After a long pause, she said, “Yes.” The word emerged as if it clung to her lips and was shoved out through her teeth with her tongue. I hid a self-satisfied grin.
“And I’m very happy to assist you, ma’am.” I meant to be respectful, but sounded like I agreed to walk an old woman across the street. Maddie winced.
“So, now that we’re partners,” she said, appearing to mock the idea, “tell me what you know.”
“What I know is we’re on the clock. If Ronald Glick stumbled on the sniper’s hidey-hole, the discovery may have triggered some panic in him. I’m not sure what he’ll do next. I also know that working together on this will bring us closer to finding her.”
The sheriff crossed her arms over her chest and then covered her mouth with one hand. I would have sworn I saw a flash of some horrific memory cross her mind. She shook her head as if to free herself of the thought and asked, “Do you think the girl is still alive?”
“I think we need to search the area to the north of where Glick was murdered before any more time passes. He saw something, and we need to know what.”
“I’ve already sent Brimmer and a few deputies to scour the area north of Farm Road.” She turned back to me. “There are a few abandoned buildings up there.”
The sheriff’s phone rang. From the one side of the conversation I heard, I knew it was Brimmer giving a report. I watched her face as she listened, and by her pursed lips and furrowed brow, I knew she didn’t like what she was hearing. Disconnecting the call, Maddie pushed my gun across her desk and grabbed a set of keys.
“Lucas, we’ve got to go.”
Chapter 38
As we drove away in the sheriff’s Explorer, she filled me in on Brimmer’s report.
“They’re at an abandoned barn in the area Ronald Glick indicated on your map. There’s evidence of
someone having been there recently. But whoever was there is gone.”
I shook my head in self-recrimination. I should have left Glick and gone after the sniper. Needing a diversion, I asked Maddie, “How long have you been Broome’s sheriff?”
“Five years.”
“And before that?”
“Baltimore. I was a homicide detective.”
“Really? We have something in common.”
Maddie glanced at me and smiled. “I know. How long have you been a PI?”
“Let’s see…not quite fifteen years.”
“Why’d you leave the police force?”
She’d checked me out. The conversation I started was becoming a Q & A and I’d rather be the one asking the questions.
“It’s a long story, and we don’t have enough time now.”
She shrugged, accepting my non-answer. We drove the rest of the way in silence.
The sheriff knew exactly where she was going and we arrived in minutes. We turned off Farm Road onto a narrow lane edged by a row of overgrown shrubs. The tall weeds and grass pressed into the gravel on the lane showed more than one vehicle had passed through.
The remnants of an old ranch-style house stood a few yards from the road. A barn lay ahead at the end of the lane. Sheriff Grange pulled up next to Brimmer’s police car, got out, and scanned the area for her deputy. I left the car and stood beside her.
“Where is everyone?” I asked. The fact no one was there to meet us made me uneasy.
“I don’t know. I told Brimmer not to go anywhere until I got here.”
“How many did you send with him?”
“Two others. Mullen and Delaney. Mullen grew up here and knows the mountains and trails better than anyone. Delaney has worked with me since I came to Broome and is one of my best volunteers.”
“I’m going to take a look around,” I said.
“Okay, then we’ll go inside together,” Grange said and told me not to wander.