by Mark Bentsen
The girls looked at each other then back at Lauren, waiting for more information.
“I’ll give you ten bucks,” Lauren added.
“Just to give him that note?” the heavier one wondered.
Lauren rolled her eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Just to give him this note.”
The girls were hesitant, Lauren could see. For a few seconds they looked around as if they might be on Boiling Point, that old show on MTV that gets people in annoying situations and irritates them until they reach their boiling point.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Lauren said, acting embarrassed. “I know, at my age, it’s kind of silly, but I really want to meet him and I’m too embarrassed to just walk up to him. So, I wrote him a note. Will you do it?”
They turned to each other, and couldn’t stifle their giggles, then looked around as if they knew there had to be a hidden camera. Finally, they must have decided Lauren was telling the truth. The short one laughed and said, “That’s so cool. We’ll do it.”
Lauren handed the heavier girl the note and the ten-dollar bill and said, “When you give it to him, tell him a woman in the gift shop sent him the note. Then just walk away, okay?”
“Not a problem.”
“Thanks.” Lauren said, relieved.
They walked out of the store and over to Luke.
He looked down at them and appeared to be listening for a few seconds. Then all three of them turned and looked directly at her, as the two girls, simultaneously extended their arms and pointed at her. Luke took the note and opened it. The girls, however, didn’t walk away like they agreed to do. They stayed, smiling widely, glancing between Luke and Lauren, while he read the note.
Luke looked over and made eye contact with Lauren, then said something to the girls, and started toward the gift shop at a brisk pace.
As he entered the store his eyes found Lauren’s. When he recognized her his pace slowed and he stopped about six feet away. For a second he just stared at her, and then said, “What are you doing here? Are you one of them?”
Assuming he meant the kidnappers, Lauren said, “No, like the note said, I’m with Bonnie. She’s in the parking lot.”
She waved him toward her and started to walk away. He made no attempt to go with her.
She stopped and turned to him. “Luke—this is a trap. They’re going to kill you. We have to get out of here.” She turned and walked quickly past the gray haired lady at the counter toward the back of the store. As she reached the door to the storeroom she stopped, looked over her shoulder and saw him still standing there. She took a few paces back towards him. “Damn it, Luke. You left me that picture of Bonnie asking me for help. That’s why I’m here.”
Luke didn’t say a word, but started walking quickly to Lauren. Over his shoulder, she saw a man in a black cap and sunglasses enter the gift shop. Even from across the store, Lauren could see there was something on his chin that looked like a Band-Aid.
“They’re here. Run,” she said pointing at Coley.
Luke glanced over his shoulder just as the man reached into his leather jacket.
Luke disappeared into the storeroom behind Lauren and ran between stacks of boxes to the exit when the stock boy was lifting another lava lamp out of a box.
“Hi. Me again,” Lauren said as she ran past him. She opened the door and said, “My ex-husband’s stalking us. Don’t let him go out this door, okay?”
“Cool,” the kid said, as if he heard this same story every day.
Lauren and Luke ran through the gray metal door and slammed it behind them.
They found themselves standing on a loading dock that was about five feet above ground. It was late in the day and the surrounding docks were empty.
And there was no sign of Bonnie.
Lauren pulled out her cell phone and pressed Bonnie’s speed dial number.
Bonnie answered speaking fast. “None of the doors have numbers.”
Lauren looked back at the door. Instead of a number on the door, it said, Horizon Gifts. Above the name she could see the number, A61, stenciled lightly in pencil. The smell of fresh paint was in the air. She looked at the adjacent doors and noticed none of them had numbers, but every door seemed to have been painted recently.
“We’re just east of Penney’s, past those bushes by the loading docks.”
“I see you,” Bonnie said.
As Lauren and Luke ran down to the end of the loading dock the Suburban roared through the parking lot and stop just beyond a hedge of shoulder-high bushes. At the end of the docks they took the steps down to ground level and ran toward her. The driver’s door flew open and Bonnie jumped out and ran, diving into Luke’s arms.
Through tears, she said, “I was afraid they’d kill you.”
They heard a loud ping, then another, and saw dust fly from the trash dumpster beside them.
They looked back at the door to Horizon Gifts and saw the man in the black cap on the loading docks holding a pistol. Two more shots pinged and they dove between two blue dumpsters for cover.
But, then they noticed, the dumpsters were two feet apart and pushed back against the wall. They were trapped.
Looking out they saw Coley come into view, now thirty feet away, his chrome plated pistol pointed at them. They backed up as far as they could while he moved closer and waved the gun from one to the other. Luke stepped in front of Bonnie and Lauren and Coley narrowed his aim to Luke’s chest.
“You know it didn’t have to end this way,” Coley said, looking at Bonnie. “All you had to do was give us Olivia like we told you. But you had to be a hero. Save the kid and all that shit. Now we have no choice.”
Luke held his arms out, palms up, and pleaded. “There has to be some way we can—“
“No. Your time is up.”
From under Luke’s outstretched arm, Bonnie’s hand came up holding the Colt revolver. The pistol fired, hitting the gunman in the middle of his chest.
The gunfire was deafening in that confined area. Coley’s torso jolted and he staggered back. His gun hand dropped to his side as a red stain blossomed just above his belt. He swayed and tried to lift his gun.
Bonnie fired again.
This time the impact of the bullet hit him like a sledgehammer in the middle of his chest. The impact knocked him back and he landed spread-eagle on his back.
“Holy shit!” Luke said, looking back at Bonnie.
“Come on,” Lauren demanded, tugging on Bonnie’s outstretched arm that was still aimed at Coley. “We need to get out of here.”
Bonnie grabbed Luke’s hand and they all ran for the Suburban. Behind them they heard a scream. They looked back and saw a woman in a blue cap on the loading docks.
Lauren jumped in the driver’s seat as Bonnie and Luke dove into the back seat. As the Suburban sped away, they saw the woman run up and kneel beside Coley.
No one spoke as Lauren made her way through the parking lot and pulled onto the highway. As they merged with traffic, Luke pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. In the rearview mirror Lauren could see his nostrils flare as he inhaled deeply. Finally, he looked from Bonnie to Lauren then back at Bonnie.
“Will someone please tell me, what the hell just happened?”
Chapter 46
“Pete’s been shot!” Rita screamed into her cell phone.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sonny said.
“Bonnie had a pistol and shot him. He’s in bad shape. We’re at the loading docks next to Penny’s. Get over here.”
Sonny dropped the phone and drove frantically around the mall.
He had told them to keep out of sight. Not to confront Luke or Bonnie inside the mall. All they had to do was let him know when Bonnie showed up. He would take care of them in the parking lot. That’s all they had to do.
The loading docks were secluded from the main parking lot by an eight-foot high brick wall on two sides and a hedge of shrubs on the other. When he drove in, he saw Rita kneeling beside Pete’s
body, which lay in a puddle of dark red blood.
After the van skidded to a stop, Sonny jumped out and knelt down beside him. Rita was trying to stop the flow of blood by pressing each hand in different spots, about a foot apart.
Sonny had never seen that much blood. “What the hell happened?”
“She shot him twice,” Rita cried. Her face was locked in fear. “He’s lost too much blood.”
“Open the back door,” Sonny said. Pete’s eyes fluttered as he grabbed him under the arms and muscled him inside onto the floor in front of the backseat. Rita knelt beside him and applied pressure to his wounds.
As the van raced toward the closest exit, Sonny tried to think what to do. This had not been a scenario they had considered. Bonnie was not supposed to have a gun.
“Rita, you’re a nurse; what do we do now?”
She didn’t answer.
“Where do we go?”
As they got closer to the parking lot exit, he looked back at her. She was holding her hand to Pete’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Sonny pulled to the side and stopped where other cars could get around him.
Sonny saw her expression turn to sorrow as she squeezed her eyes closed and covered them with the backs of her bloody hands. She began to wail.
Pete was dead.
“Son of a bitch!” Sonny screamed, slamming his open palm onto the steering wheel, and then yelled again. “Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!”
For half a minute he sat, trying to grasp it all. Nothing like this was supposed to happen. He stared straight ahead and through gritted teeth he asked, “What happened back there?”
“Bonnie shot him,” Rita sobbed.
“I fucking know that. Where’d she get a gun?” he screamed.
“I don’t know.” Rita screamed back.
“Tell me what happened.”
Rita told him about the unknown woman that led Luke out the back door of the gift shop and how Bonnie shot Pete. And that Bonnie may have recognized her when she ran off the loading dock.
“Who in the hell is this other woman?”
“I don’t know. She had on a cap. All I know is they got into a big white SUV and hauled ass.”
Sonny thought about what losing Pete really meant. Pete was his best friend. But, he was also the one who handled all of the technical details. The entire ransom plan was his, setting up fake email accounts for ransom demands, offshore accounts for the fund transfers, securing fake passports and new identities for them to live in Germany or Switzerland or Costa Rica or wherever they wanted to live.
But, there was nothing they could do about it now. As he started driving out of town, he called Rosemary to tell her what had happened. She was inconsolable. They had started sleeping together three months ago and planned to get married.
“We all knew something like this was possible and now we have to move on.” He waited for her to say something but all he heard were her choking sobs. He gave her some time then said, “Has Kim updated Olivia’s blog?”
Through her sobs she said, “Yes, it says, ‘Olivia is more important than any amount of money.’”
“Good. How’s Olivia doing?”
“She’s okay, she’s asleep right now.”
“Good. Can you leave her alone for about twenty minutes?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” A month earlier, Pete and Sonny had driven around town and located a number of unsecured Internet connections. “Go to the Kalispell Koffee and use their Wi-Fi from the parking lot. Use the first Yahoo email account and send Kim the e-mail with our demands.”
“Okay,” she said, choking back her sobs.
“We’ll be back in about an hour.” He disconnected and looked back at Rita, who was covering Pete’s body up with a painter’s drop cloth. “Give me Pete’s phone.”
She pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Sonny as she moved into the passenger seat up front. Sonny hit the speed dial number to call Bonnie.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
He knew that he had to disguise his voice. Chances were good she’d recognize his voice from the camera shop and he couldn’t take that chance. She had already identified Pete, and now possibly Rita.
To disguise his voice he spoke from deep in his throat, just above a whisper. “If you go to the police before we get our ransom, I promise you, I’ll kill Olivia.”
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt her.”
“When you killed my friend, you changed everything.”
“He was going to kill us. I had no choice.”
“And now I have no choice. I will slit her throat and watch her bleed to death, calling for her Mommy. And for the rest of your life you’ll have to remember that it was your fault.”
“Okay. We won’t go to the police, but how do I know you’ll let her go?”
“As soon as I have my money, we’ll tell Kim where to find her. But, remember: I have friends in the police department. If you interfere in any way or I hear you had any contact with the police, I’ll kill her. Even if I get my ransom. Do you understand?”
“Yes. We won’t do anything.”
“Good. And don’t try to call me again.”
Sonny ended the call and turned off the phone. He had stalled her. At least for now.
They continued to drive west until he came to a gravel road that led into the forested foothills. After a few miles, the gravel road gently gained elevation. He turned down a one-lane road that looked more like a cross-country ski trail and followed it until they crossed a bridge over a shallow creek. He pulled over and stopped.
Together, they dragged Pete’s lifeless body across the creek and into the woods. At a narrow crevasse that fed into a deep ravine, he said, “This is good enough.”
He removed Pete’s wristwatch and wallet and handed them to Rita who was breathing hard.
“Take these and go back to the van. I’ll be there in a minute.”
When she was out of sight, he pushed the body over the edge. It rolled into the gorge ten feet below him, then tumbled sideways another twenty feet before coming to rest at the bottom. Sonny watched as dirt and rocks trickled down on top of the bloody body of his old friend.
He kicked more rocks, pine needles, leaves and dirt into the ravine. There were some bigger rocks nearby and he rolled them in until Pete was completely covered.
On the way back to the van he came to the creek where Rita was washing the blood off her hands and arms. He looked at the blood on his own hand and scooped up a handful of sand from the bank and mixed it in the cool, clear water and rubbed his hands together. The blood washed away, leaving only the memory of losing his friend.
This would be the last time he would underestimate Bonnie. Nor would he trust her.
When they got back to Rosemary’s apartment complex they found her sitting inside the motor home at the table. Her eyes were red, but most of her tears had dried. Rita went to her and they hugged and both started to cry again.
After a minute, Rosemary lifted her chin and said, “I sent the email just like you told me.”
“Good. Did you take care of Olivia?”
“About twenty minutes ago I woke her and gave her a double dose of Benadryl. She’ll sleep for several hours. We’ll move her to the compartment under the bed just before we cross the border. No one will ever find her unless they tear the bedroom apart.”
“Good. It’s time to get going, but there’s been a small change of plans. There’s too much blood in the van, so we need to get rid of it.”
“So what do we do?” Rita asked.
“Rita, you drive the Jeep and Rosemary you drive the RV. Leave now and go back to the house in Whitefish. I’ll be a few minutes behind you in the van.”
When Sonny got to the house an hour later the Jeep and the RV were sitting out front. He parked the van in the garage and went back to the RV where Rosemary and Rita were waiting.
“Did you check with Vic to make sure he’s working at the border crossin
g today?”
“Yes. I sent him a text earlier saying me and Rita were leaving on vacation today and asked if we’d see him when we crossed the border. He said he’d be there until ten tonight.” Rosemary said.
“Good. Text me when you get across the border,” Sonny said as he stepped away.
As he watched the Winnebago drive away, he knew what he had to do now.
He went back to the garage and opened the side door of the van. Blood covered the back seat and floor. There was no doubt their fingerprints were in there, too. As an agent for the Canadian government, Pete’s were on file. Since Sonny was an ex-con, his were on file, as were Rita’s. He wasn’t sure about Rosemary’s, but in a few minutes, it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Cardboard boxes were stacked along one wall of the garage. They were filled with old magazines, newspapers, books, old clothes and other junk not worthy of a thrift store. Along another wall were stacks of old lumber and broken-down furniture.
He emptied several of the boxes of papers and magazines inside the van on top of the drying blood. On a shelf at the back of the garage was an array of chemicals, most probably banned by the EPA decades ago. Pesticides, herbicides, fertilizers, weed killer, bug spray, and a couple of old gas cans. He wasn’t sure which of the chemicals would burn, so he piled everything on top of the pile of paper. Then he carried some of the old clothes and magazines inside the house and piled them along the wall under the old tattered curtains. On his way out back to the old house he had stopped and bought a bottle of charcoal starter at a convenience store. He sprayed it all over the curtains then dropped a match.
Back in the garage, he doused the inside of the van and the lumber along the wall with the rest of the fuel. He dropped a match on the lumber and another one inside the van. A yellow flame slowly started to rise, then gradually spread across one magazine toward the others. As the flames grew higher he moved to the side door of the garage. When the entire interior of the van was ablaze he closed it and walked to the Jeep.
As he backed out onto the road he could see the flicker of flames through the broken window in the front room of the house. Looking over at the garage he now saw smoke billowing out of the front and side doors.