A Baby Between Them

by Alice Sharpe

Ella glanced at the fallen man. “He looks just as I knew he would. Who was he?”

  “Bob Rydell,” Carl said. “Like the other contacts you met, he was a cop with your father back in Chicago when you were a kid. No relation, Eleanor, just a happy coincidence he seemed familiar.”

  Fixing her stare on Reed or Starling or whoever he was, Ella whispered, “Why?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Why did they risk their lives? Because they owed me. They were fulfilling a debt.”

  “Not that,” Ella murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were yesterday?”

  Her father studied the rocks, a knot in his jaw.

  “Just give me a straight answer,” she demanded.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, and for once he didn’t sound so sure of himself. “I planned the hike up the mountain so we would have time to talk and get to know each other. I knew your brother had been captured and killed down in Tierra Montañosa. I knew you were alone.

  “Anyway, I was leaving today to start over again somewhere new. This hike was my last chance to explain what happened all those years ago and to give you money, you know, to take care of you. When you got to the lodge and didn’t know who I was, when you barely knew who you were, well, I wasn’t sure what to do so I just let you assume I was the next contact. I just wanted to buy some time. I put off talking to you. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re a stranger to me,” she said.

  “I can see that. Ultimate irony, isn’t it? I risk all this, three men are dead—”

  “Four,” the man Reed had called Sanjay Chopra interjected as he stepped closer, the rifle clutched in his white-knuckled hands.

  Starling groaned. “You got Cal Potter?”

  “How else would we have known about the helicopter?” Chopra’s dark eyes gleamed like shards of obsidian as he added, “You murdered my father and brother because they wouldn’t go along with your schemes. They were good, decent men. My father was a former Gurkha, a man of strength and honor.”

  The big man’s mouth twisted and his nostrils flared. In one fluid movement, he looped the assault rifle over his shoulder again and released the kukri knife from its scabbard. Holding it balanced on his fingers, he said, “When neither of them would be cowered by the murdering criminals you served, you killed them. Then you stole from the very thieving devils you worked for. You ran like the coward you were, like the coward you will always be.”

  “You’ve got this all wrong,” Starling said carefully. “I’m not the one who killed your family. I’m the one who took the rap, I’m the one who got the others off free. I was the one who had the least to stick around for, the least to lose, so I’m the one they all paid off.

  “So, yes, I’m guilty in some ways for your father’s and brother’s deaths. If I’d talked up when I first knew about the deep corruption on the force—and it went all the way up to the top—if I’d been as honorable as you say your family was, maybe it wouldn’t have happened the way it did.” He looked down at the man dead on the rocks and added, “This is the man who pulled the trigger. Him and the others, they’re the ones who were involved.”

  “I will not listen to your lies,” Chopra bellowed. “I’ve waited all these years, keeping track of each of the men who helped you escape, knowing sooner or later one of them would lead me to you. And now, thanks to your ego, they have. I’ve eliminated each of them with my father’s knife.” He glanced down at the dead pilot. “Except for him. Now it’s your turn.”

  Starling lowered his arms. “I’m an old man, Chopra. Do what you have to do. But leave my daughter alone. She had nothing to do with any of this.”

  Carl Baxter cleared his throat. “Chopper? Hate to get in the middle of this, but there’s the matter of the money. You go hacking Starling up into fish bait, how am I supposed to get what’s left of his stash? We need him alive for a while yet. And my wife, too. She’ll be his incentive to cooperate.”

  “Why did you marry my daughter, William?” Reed asked. “She was only twelve when you saw her in Chicago.”

  “I never even knew you had a daughter when I lived in Chicago,” Carl said. “I first learned about her in the paper after you blew town, then later when your wife died. When I realized she must have turned eighteen, I tracked her down.

  “And by the way, I’m not William Smith anymore. I don’t work for a street gang, I don’t associate with crooked cops. I have bigger fish to fry nowadays.”

  “You used Ella to get close to me.”

  “Fat lot of good it did. She hated you. Refused to talk about you. Blamed you for her mother killing herself, blamed you for everything and with good cause. We got divorced before two months went by, but I kept her in my sights and when I heard you were looking for her and your son, I got closer to her and you know what? She still hates you. When your first contact got to her house, she wouldn’t even let him in the door, refused to listen to him, told him to tell you as far as she was concerned you were already dead. Good thing I came in the back way and…convinced her to be more agreeable.”

  Starling looked at Ella and said, “I wanted to explain all this so you’d understand. Nothing is really what it seems.”

  “You wanted to explain why you left me with a woman who beat me? Or did you want to explain how you were the cop who had the least to lose? Which?”

  “You remember your mother’s abuse?”

  “It’s about the only memory I have of her.”

  “She was sick—”

  “And you left both of us. She was a bitter, unhappy drunk and you left.”

  “The others promised to take care of her, look after you, but they didn’t. That’s why they owed me. I kept my part of the bargain, I took the money and disappeared and let them all go on with their lives and act like heroes.”

  “And left your wife and children to carry the burden of your disgrace.”

  “She wouldn’t take a dime of the money, wouldn’t let me provide for you or your brother, wouldn’t join me…all she wanted was to wallow in her misery.”

  “And who do you think wallowed with her?” Ella said. “At least I now understand why every dream I have of you ends up with you disappearing into a puff of smoke.”

  “I’m sorry,” Reed said, and sounded genuinely contrite.

  Ella said, “It doesn’t matter. I have a feeling I gave up on you years and years ago.” She turned her attention to Carl and added, “And you killed the first contact? You dumped that man in the vacant lot? I didn’t have anything to do with it?”

  “I didn’t kill him. I just tied him up and left him at your place.” He smiled to himself as he added, “Chopper found him before he could get free. They had a little chat and then Chopper carved him into pieces.”

  “You made me go with you. Why did you crash the car?”

  “That wasn’t my fault. You grabbed the wheel from me. You sent us off the road.”

  “No more talking!” Chopra spit, his voice deadly earnest. “The money isn’t important. The past doesn’t matter. Even if what you say is true, Starling, the men I killed were guilty and so are you.” He looked at Baxter and added, “It’s blood money. I will have this man’s life in retribution for my father and—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Carl interrupted. “Nice sentiment, good devotion, et cetera…but the fact is we have an agreement. You can do whatever you want with Starling as soon as he buys his daughter’s life with what he’s got left of the money. It better be a lot, too. She’s been a ton of trouble. And let’s not forget, he’s the only one who can fly us out of here now that the pilot is dead.”

  For some time, as he’d tried to absorb everything that was going on around him and figure out a way to use the dynamics to his advantage, Simon had been aware of a noise coming from the forest to the west. Now it seemed they all became aware of it, because voices died down as everyone turned to look toward the bank of dense trees.

  Chopper said, “What the hell?”

  What the hell was righ
t. Through a break in the trees something large and bright yellow came rumbling out.

  “It’s a school bus,” Ella said.

  Carl snarled. “Great, just what we need. Chopper, hold the knife lower before some busybody teacher with a cell phone sees it and calls the cops. Wait, prop the pilot up against the wheel, everyone look friendly or Eleanor isn’t going to live long enough to have her baby.”

  Ella’s gaze swerved from the bus to Carl so that the muzzle of Carl’s gun now rested square on her forehead.

  “You knew? You shot me with some drug, and you knew?”

  “It’s not my kid,” Carl snarled.

  “Well, thank goodness for that,” she said.

  “On the other hand, if you care about your baby’s future, you’d better start playing the part of relaxed tourist.” He waved the gun in a modest circle. “That goes for all of you. One false move and it’s bye-bye, baby.”

  Ella, apparently taken aback by these words, looked down at her feet.

  As they’d spoken, Chopra had pulled the dead pilot into a sitting position next to the helicopter wheel. Ella’s father, who stood slightly tilted, due, no doubt, to his sprained ankle, watched the bus with a kind of fascinated horror. Simon knew how he felt.

  “The damn thing is coming right toward us,” Carl said. He lifted his free hand and waved at the bus, shouted for it to stop, but it kept coming, headed for the helicopter, sitting there with a full tank of gas.

  The sun had moved around enough that the bus was now reflecting the light, but Simon began to get a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “What’s the matter with the damn driver?” Baxter sputtered. “He’s going to run into the helicopter.”

  Hand held in front of him, Chopra took a few steps toward the bus. No doubt, with his size, he was used to imposing his will on anything and everyone, but even he was no match for a bus. When he saw it wasn’t going to stop, he turned back to them. “We have to get out of the way!” he yelled as he grabbed Ella’s father’s arm.

  “Let’s get to that flat rock in the river. The damn bus can’t roll over water,” Carl said, yanking Ella along with him.

  Simon realized that for a moment, he’d been pretty much forgotten. He dived for the abandoned revolver and rifle. By the time he was back on his feet, bullets pinged off the rocks around his feet. He quickly headed off in the other direction, running a zigzag pattern. It would do none of them any good to get back in the same kind of standoff again. He needed to find cover and plan a rescue.

  The bus had left the relatively smooth ground of the riverbank and started across the larger rocks, which slowed it down, made it rock and lurch. As Simon ran past he saw there was no driver, no passengers he could see, but the side door was open. He turned to look back, knowing a collision was imminent. That’s when he saw a man holding on to the spare tire mounted on the back bumper.

  As Simon stopped to gape, the man let go of the tire and fell to the rocks. The bus kept going, but the way ahead was even rougher. It hit a rut that spun out the front tires. It recovered, but the course veered. Now it was aimed toward the falls instead of the helicopter.

  Simon made a split-second decision to use the bus as a cover to approach the rocks where the others had fled. He changed his direction and took off after the bus. From the corner of his eye, he saw the newcomer jump to his feet, look around and make a decision to join Simon. They exchanged a brief glance. With a start, Simon recognized the man’s wild black hair and lively eyes.

  “Jack?”

  “Miss me?” Jack said, drawing close.

  Simon handed over the rifle and managed a laugh.

  Meanwhile, the bus’s movements grew increasingly erratic. It was only a matter of time before it got stuck in a new rut or broke an axle. Simon planned ahead how to stay clear when the damn thing fell over.

  A moment later, the yellow vehicle seemed to rear up on its back tires. Both men slowed down, careful to stay out of sight behind it. It crashed down and rolled forward, but something had changed. The mystery was explained when the rear tires came up against what had caused the trouble—a downed tree lying across the bank. Somehow, the engine had become disengaged, and without sufficient power, the bus floundered against the tree, then flipped over on its side with a tremendous crash.

  Simon dived for cover. As the clattering went on and on, he got back to his feet. Jack was right behind him.

  “I had the pedal depressed with a branch,” Jack said. “It must have snapped.”

  “You passed us outside a town called Twilight,” Simon said.

  “I did? You must have been the only vehicle I passed in a hundred miles. That bus was no Harley. The guy at the lot got the better deal.”

  “Listen,” Simon said. “I don’t think they know about you. If I give myself up, you might have a chance to take them out.”

  Jack regarded him with narrowed eyes. “That’ll probably get you killed,” he said at last.

  Simon shrugged. “Do you have a better plan?”

  “No. There’s an emergency exit in the back of the bus. I could climb in with the rifle.”

  “Are you a good enough shot to take each out with one bullet?” Simon asked. “You’d have to damn near be a sniper.”

  Jack almost smiled. When he spoke again, his accent, which seemed to come and go like the wind, was back. “Sí, amigo. I think I can handle it. You just get Ella and her father out of the line of fire.”

  Simon paused in his efforts to help Jack open the emergency door. “You know about her dad?”

  “Yeah. I followed your friends to Potter’s place. I was too late to save the old guy. His wife was grateful I came along. She told me what I needed to know.”

  The door finally slid open, the noise it made covered by the crashing still going on inside the bus interior.

  Jack immediately hoisted himself up into the opening. With the bus on its side, he’d have to step over the windows to get to the front and he’d have to do it without getting cut by broken glass or seen by Carl or Chopra.

  Simon handed him the revolver, too. He didn’t need it. He hoped Jack was half as good as he seemed to think he was. Then he put his hands high in the air and walked out of the shelter of the bus, knowing it was just as likely Baxter would shoot him dead on the spot as allow him to join them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ella saw Simon first as all three men were staring at the bus wreck and she was staring behind it, searching for him. She saw him step out from behind the metal carcass, his hands up in the air. Her heart grew heavy in her chest. There was no hope now.

  Carl saw Simon in the next instant. She knew when he raised his gun what he intended to do.

  “If you shoot him, I will not cooperate in any way,” she said. “Neither will my father. Kill Simon and you might as well kill both of us, too.” And she meant it. The waterfall wasn’t that far away, just a dozen leaps and she could throw herself into the maelstrom. Sure, she’d die, but Carl was going to kill her anyway, she knew that.

  Carl’s smile disappeared, a reward in its own right. She glanced quickly at her father to see how he’d taken her ultimatum. Hard to tell.

  “Chopper, go take care of him,” Carl said. “We’ll follow.”

  As Ella furiously reiterated her threats, Chopra furrowed his brow. He glared at her dad and then, acting so fast it was little more than a blur, slammed the butt end of his rifle into her father’s chest. Without another word, he left.

  Ella’s father doubled over, cradling his arm, which he’d apparently used to ward off the blow. As she reached out to help him, Carl grabbed a handful of her short hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look up into his face.

  “You’ve been nothing but a giant pain since the day I met you,” he said. His eyes bored into her like drills. The skin on her exposed throat burned as he ran the muzzle of the gun down her windpipe. “How dare you think you can threaten me into doing what you want?” He cocked the gun, the click like thun
der next to Ella’s ear.

  And then all of a sudden, he threw her down to the rock. She looked up in time to witness her father jump to the next rock and then the next, almost falling as his bad ankle took the landing, his injured arm supported by his uninjured one. Each faltering leap took him farther out into the river, toward the falls. Carl lifted the gun, seemed to think twice about shooting a man he planned to get rich off, especially as he might fall into the river and be lost. Instead of shooting, he took a leap and followed.

  And for some reason Ella would never understand, she followed, too.

  SIMON WASN’T THRILLED about Chopra’s steady, deadly advance. Behind the man, he witnessed Ella’s father making a break for it, leaving Ella stranded with Carl, who had her head bent over backward. A surge of anger flooded his central nervous system—Tyler Starling truly was despicable.

  But then Carl threw Ella to the rock and took off after Starling and then Ella popped to her feet and followed Carl.

  Chopper and his knife were getting damn close. Seeing as Chopper really didn’t know if Simon had a gun tucked away, he was taking a big chance. Probably figured it would take more than a puny revolver to stop him.

  Come on, Jack, Simon muttered to himself. Any time now. The fact was that Baxter was out of reach of the rifle. That meant Jack could stop Chopra but not Baxter. That meant he had to do it fast so Simon could stop Baxter.

  The big man covered ground very fast. There was no way around him to help Ella; Simon had to go through him. He called out, “Sanjay? What do you suppose your father would think about his own son avenging his life by killing innocent people? You said he was a man of honor.”

  “The girl is a Starling,” Chopra said calmly. “She is tied to her father’s evil.”

  “You’ve killed three men,” Simon said.

  Chopra held up the knife. “I’ll soon make it four and then five and then it will be over.”

  “Don’t you see how Baxter’s corruption is corrupting you? You wouldn’t kill me yesterday, but today, here you are, lusting for my blood.”