Both Ends Burning (Whistleblower Trilogy Book 3)

by Jim Heskett

  Rodrick made a noise under the bed.

  I dug a hand into my pocket and slipped out the knife. Launched off the bed, flicking the knife open. I brought the blade at him with one hand, expecting him to react. He raised his hands to block it, so I changed the angle of my attack and thrusted the palm of my free hand under his jaw, driving him back and into the mirror.

  He crashed into it, shattering the glass into dozens of pieces. The knife fell onto the carpet.

  “Now, Rodrick! We have to go now!”

  Rodrick scampered out from under the bed as Thomason ducked down to pick up the knife.

  I kneed him in the chest, but he was spry for an older man. He snatched the blade and swung it up at me. I chopped at his hand, and the knife went flying to the side, where it sailed through the open window and disappeared outside.

  We both watched it go, then he swung. He was too slow, and I dodged, then jabbed him in the nose. He hit the mirror again, this time stumbling, then falling to the floor.

  He rolled onto his side, moaning. I should have twisted his neck just as I had Glenning’s, but I didn’t. I still needed him alive to confess to IntelliCraft’s crimes, but right then, all I could think about was getting away and up to Keystone.

  I would deal with Thomason later.

  Rodrick was standing in the doorway, looking at my hand with a blank expression on his face. Blood from Thomason’s cuts had seeped into the wrinkles of my palm. I waved my hands at him to snap him out of his daze, and we dashed out of the room and to my rental car. As we got in and I jammed the transmission into reverse, Thomason appeared in the doorway of the room, lines of blood dribbling down his face.

  I swerved through the parking lot and hit the road, screaming toward the highway. Cars honked left and right as I cut people off to merge.

  “What are we doing?” Rodrick said.

  “We have to get Grace. IntelliCraft knows where she is. Shit, they may already have her.”

  I fumbled the phone out of my pocket.

  “I get that we need to hurry,” he said, “but it won’t do us any good to get in a high-speed chase with the cops.”

  He’d made a good point, so I slowed a bit while still maneuvering through cars as deftly as I could.

  I dialed Grace. She didn’t answer. Called Cross. Again, no response.

  “Shit!” I smacked the dashboard. I dug out my wallet, then tossed it to Rodrick. “There’s a slip of paper in there with all the prepaid numbers. Call them all.”

  He found the paper and started dialing.

  Now both IntelliCraft and Cross were on their way to—or were already in—Keystone. I knew what IntelliCraft’s intentions were, but not what Cross had in mind. Was he on my side, or was he going to snatch Grace and kill her?

  I thought about Thomason’s surprise when I’d mentioned the video showing a masked man killing Susan and Dad. If it wasn’t Thomason, then the only explanation was that Cross was the one in the ski mask, with a gray wig on to make me think he was Thomason. Why was he killing the two people he claimed to be working with? After all that noise he’d made about trusting him, was he actually on IntelliCraft’s side?

  “Grace?” Rodrick said.

  I snatched the phone out of his hand. “Grace, baby, it’s me.”

  “What’s going on?” she said.

  “Listen to me: you need to find your sister and get out of that condo, right away. Go somewhere safe. Somewhere public. Somewhere you can be around a lot of people and with plenty of exits if you need to run.”

  She called out to Janine. I heard things rustling in the background. “Why do we need to leave?”

  “Someone is coming. Maybe several people. Some of them are from IntelliCraft.”

  “How did they find us?”

  “I don’t know, baby. It doesn’t matter. Someone else is coming too, and it’s Detective Cross.”

  “That’s that cop who’s been calling for you?”

  “Yes. I don’t know if you can trust him or not. You should just avoid him. If you can, find a cop. Or, resort security or somebody. Just don’t go anywhere they can get you alone.”

  She breathed heavily on the other end of the phone. “This is all happening so fast.”

  “I know, baby, and I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  Her voice became thick with tears. “What if they get here before you do?”

  I felt so powerless, piloting a car on a highway with speed limits while my wife was in a state of panic seventy miles away. “You can handle this. I know you can.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I never should have left you alone up there. But I can’t help that now. Please get out of the condo and don’t waste any time. Call me when you’re somewhere safe.”

  We got off the phone and I merged onto I-25, which would take me to I-70, which was then a straight shot into the mountains.

  Rodrick was close to hyperventilating, clinging to the dashboard for dear life. “Why is this happening?”

  “This is all my fault,” I said, trying to keep the tears from spilling down my cheeks. “Everything they’re doing is a reaction to me. Trying to keep me in a box. I know things about the company, and they have to kill everyone to keep me quiet. But for some reason, not me.”

  Grace called me back a few minutes later. They’d gone to a bar near the condo, one filled with enough people that she felt safe.

  When I got off the phone with her, I felt better. Rodrick felt better too after I told him. We were speeding along I-70, hoping we wouldn’t come across any wrecks or traffic jams. Traffic going the other way was starting to thicken, as the half-day skiers would be returning to Denver. But so far, it was smooth sailing heading westbound.

  A half hour later, Grace called again.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “What I’m going to tell you may sound weird, but you need to trust me. Things here have changed.”

  “Okay.”

  “Cross came to the bar, with some other people. They’ve taken us into another condo, and it’s safe here.”

  “You’re with Cross? Baby, you can’t trust him.”

  “No, Tucker, you listen to me. I’ve done everything you told me to do. I’ve let you run off and leave me more than once, and I’ve played the supportive wife.”

  “Okay,” I said, stunned.

  “Now, I’m going to make some decisions. Cross is here with some cops, and everything is stable. We’re safe now.”

  Not with IntelliCraft still on the way, they weren’t. But I had to trust her. “I understand. If you think this is okay, then we’ll go with that.”

  She cleared her throat. “We’re at—”

  “No! Don’t say it over the phone now. I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “Okay, baby, but there’s one more thing I’ve got to tell you.”

  “What’s that?” I said.

  “Your dad is here too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Dad was still alive, and so was Susan. The video had been a hoax. Grace didn’t know any of the details, and I didn’t want to trouble her. I’d get my own answers when I saw my twice-dead father in person.

  I told her to stay out of sight, but be ready to run if Cross or anyone else did anything suspicious. The presence of uniformed cops had seemed to cool her nerves, but I told her that just because they had special clothes on didn’t mean they were real cops.

  But I could be assured that if my dad were there, none of them were with IntelliCraft.

  In the passenger seat next to me, Rodrick bounced up and down, chewing on his fingernails. His eyes were wide open and bloodshot.

  “Don’t forget to blink,” I said as we passed out of the Eisenhower tunnel, just a couple miles from the exit for Keystone.

  “I can’t stop thinking about my son. My wife and I let him get away with too much, I know. But I don’t know what I’d do if he were ever in any real danger.”

  “I don’t know anything
about raising kids, but I know plenty about danger. I’ve had to become a quick study.”

  “How do you handle all this?” he said.

  “I haven’t had much time to let thinking get in the way. Like anything else, it’s just one foot in front of the other.”

  We exited I-70 in Dillon, just a few miles north of Keystone. Fresh snow remnants churned under the tires of hundreds of cars had left a river of brown sludge on the road, and we had to crawl through Dillon to get to our destination.

  I could see the tops of buildings and slices of white ski runs through the trees as we neared the village. I pulled into the resort and had to drive to the back of the lot since there were a thousand cars between us and the little tourist-trap collection of lodging, restaurants, and shops.

  As I put the car in park, Rodrick gripped my wrist. “What’s going to happen?”

  “I don’t know, Rod. We’ve got to find Grace and get out of here. We’ll deal with anything else as it comes up.”

  “I’m sorry about her. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt along time ago.”

  I looked down at his hand, and he let go of my wrist. “Can we talk about this later? We kinda have more important things going on right now than your crush on my wife.”

  He gave a sheepish grin, and we stepped onto the hard-packed snow of the parking lot. Music blasted from the open doors of a minivan next to us, and three teenagers in snowboard gear were passing a joint. A longhaired boy coughed and gave me a thumbs-up.

  We dashed through the cars toward the main village. I dug out the phone and called Grace. She told me where they were, and I asked her to get everyone ready to go.

  A twenty-foot tall arch made of logs stood at the entrance to Keystone, and two friendly park staff tried to hand us terrain maps as we jogged through it. Maybe they hadn’t noticed we were in jeans and regular shoes instead of ski boots and waterproof pants.

  Past the entrance, Keystone opened up to a broad street, bracketed on both sides with pizzerias and clothing shops, all of them with two or three stories of condos stacked on top.

  We headed straight for the condo, one above a snowboard repair shop near the front of the village. Milled through the hundreds of people scurrying to the bars for mid-afternoon drinks, their ski boots clacking against the ground. Bright neon snowboards and black ski poles bounced on the shoulders of red-faced teenagers as they moved with the herd.

  Flung open the door and raced to the top of the carpeted stairs. Three apartments. I banged on the door of #2.

  I heard shuffling on the other side. I had no idea what I was about to walk into, or what to do once that door opened. If I saw Grace, I’d throw my arms around her and offer her a million apologies.

  My dad opened the door. “Hello, son.”

  I reacted. Cracked him in the chin with a jab, and sent him stumbling backward. Heard Janine gasp.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I said.

  I stepped into the room as a shotgun pumped. I looked around. Saw Grace, Janine, my dad, Susan, Cross, Dog, and two uniformed cops all standing around in this condo. One of the cops had leveled his shotgun at me.

  As my dad regained his balance and wiped the blood from his mouth, Cross put a hand on top of the cop’s shotgun. “It’s okay,” Cross said. “This guy is with us.”

  I went straight for Cross. “Somebody better start giving me some answers.”

  “Baby,” Grace said. She was holding out her arms, tears in her eyes. I ran to her, hugged her, felt her warm and wet tears against my cheek. Her swelling stomach pushed against me. Felt Dog sniffing like crazy at the hem of my jeans as he weaved between my legs, his tail whacking against my shoes.

  I sneered at my father, still wiping blood from his chin. “I watched a video of you dying this morning.”

  “I’m sorry about the video,” Dad said. “We wanted to scare you into staying away from Thomason. It was rash and heavy-handed, but we didn’t know what else to do. We didn’t have time to plan properly, and knew you wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “We didn’t think you’d walk out of a meeting with him alive,” Cross said.

  I almost laughed. “You thought he’d kill me? These people don’t seem to be able to kill me. Or if not unable, they’re at least not willing. They’ll kill millions of others, though. Right, Dad?”

  He lowered his eyes.

  “So that was you in the ski mask?” I said to Cross.

  He nodded. “I know it was terrible, but it had to be done. You really have no idea how sick Frank Thomason is. You were so stubborn and foolhardy, and we had to do something grand to get your attention. We were going to have you arrested, but we didn’t want to tip them off.”

  “It was my plan,” Susan said. “I’m the one who set it all up. I know how awful it must have made you feel.”

  Faking two murders to frighten me away from a meeting? I’d seen a lot of barbaric shit in the last month, but that was amazingly bonkers. I pointed at the three conspirators. “When this is over, I don’t ever want to see any of you three ever again. And you, Dad, how could you do this to me? Making me think you’re dead twice? It’s the sickest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  Dad held out a hand, pleading. “If you’d just let me explain-”

  “Sir,” said one of the cops to Cross, “shouldn’t we be out on the street, looking for these individuals?”

  “I’m going too,” I said. I don’t know why I said it. Maybe when Cross had called me stubborn and foolhardy, I was determined to prove him right.

  “Stop!” shouted my dad. He walked over to me and Grace, then he eyed her baby bump. “Since you came in here yelling and throwing punches, I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet. Things have changed.”

  I set my jaw. “What’s changed?”

  His face softened into an expression I couldn’t ever remember seeing him wear before. Wistful or repentant, perhaps. “I’ve made a decision. I don’t want any of you to be in the middle of this chaos anymore. You’re going to be a dad, Tucker, and I’ve only just met your wife today. I can’t put you and your family in jeopardy any longer.”

  I looked at Grace, and she nodded her approval.

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “Heath is going to come with me back to Denver,” Cross said. “We’re going to go to the station as soon as this threat is taken care of. We need to get him on camera.”

  “I’m going to confess everything,” Dad said. “I want it to be over, and I want you and your family to be safe. I’m sorry it took me this long to do the right thing.”

  I studied his eyes, trying to determine if I could trust him. I didn’t know this man well enough to read the intention in his look.

  But it didn’t matter. A window on one side of the condo shattered as something came flying in the room. The cops leaped into action. Cross drew his gun.

  The object came to a stop at my feet. A baseball-sized rock with a piece of string tied around it. On the end of the string, a folded up piece of paper attached with a paperclip.

  I picked up the paper. Opened it.

  Come out, come out, wherever you are.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Cross opened the front door of the condo and leaned out. There was a sharp whistling sound, and he spun, and I saw the hole the bullet had made in his forehead before he fell down the stairs.

  Grace and Janine both yelped and ducked into the kitchen. Dog started barking.

  “Backdoor,” I shouted.

  “There isn’t one,” Susan said.

  The two cops raced for the front door and out into the hallway. Their guns weren’t silenced, and when they pulled their triggers, they sounded like cracks of thunder.

  One of the cops took a bullet in the chest. He bellowed, then raised his arm. I could see the bullet had hit him just to the side of his bulletproof vest. He staggered and fell forward. The other cop squeezed off a few shots, then ran down the stairs.

  I could already hear people screaming
outside.

  The cop came back up the stairs and leaned in the doorway. “You folks stay here. Everything is under control. Go into the bathroom and lock the door. Do not open it, except for anyone with the code word. The code word is—”

  Then his head jerked as a bullet passed through the side of his face, and he staggered into the apartment. His body quivered as blood leaked onto the carpet.

  Janine screamed.

  I dashed forward and picked up his gun. Leaned out into the hallway, and a bullet whiffed past my head.

  “Tucker, no!” Grace yelled.

  I stuck my arm out into the hall and fired off a few shots. Leaned out, there was no one there. I turned around as Susan was prying Cross’ gun out of his hand. “Let’s go,” she said.

  I picked up the dead cop’s shotgun, ran back, and grabbed Rodrick by the shirt collar. “You need to protect her,” I said. “You need to stay here with her and protect her.” He nodded as I thrust the shotgun into his hands. “Can you do that? Can you keep Grace safe?”

  “I can do that,” he said.

  I threw one last look at Grace. The little niggling voice of doubt told me it would be the last time I would ever see her alive. But if there was one tiny chance that I was wrong and I could end this, I had to take it.

  “I love you,” I said. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  She mouthed the words to me as tears streamed down her reddened cheeks.

  Susan and I jumped down the stairs, over strangers wearing bloodied suits, sprawled at odd angles. Dog came bounding down after us.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I witnessed the pandemonium of the village outside. Hundreds of people running in all directions, shouting, screaming. A security guard in a blue jacket was standing on a bench, waving his arms and shouting for people to remain calm.

  Susan ran past me, but I grabbed her arm.

  “Susan, wait. You need to stay here.”

  “What?”

  “Please. Grace and Janine are in that apartment, and they need protection. Rodrick’s not going to be much help against men with guns. Please, go back up there with them.”