“You need to let me loose now,” Landry said after Dysart flipped the phone shut.
“Then what happens?”
“I leave, that’s what. You never hear from me again. As long as the rest of my payment shows up, that is.”
Dysart looked at him doubtfully. “But people are going to know I let you go.”
“No they won’t. Tell them I got a hand free, surprised you, managed to grab the gun. Something like that. No one will have any reason to think otherwise.”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay,” Landry said, “here are your options. You can leave me in this chair, in which case the cops eventually arrive and I reduce my sentence by telling them you hired me. We both end up in prison, and a short time later I hire someone to put a shank in your throat. If you shoot me, the cops’ll find out from Donovan that I was helpless when he left us and you get charged with murder. Or you can get me out of this chair before I really lose my temper. Then maybe you live to see your retirement.”
When Dysart still hesitated, Landry continued. “Look, it’s cool. Let me go and I’ll just drive away, I promise.”
A part of Dysart’s mind nagged at him not to believe. A larger part, however, yelled at him to save his own skin. He nodded once, curtly, then checked outside to make sure no one was nearby. Returning quickly to Landry’s side, Dysart began pulling off the tape.
When he was free, Landry stood up and offered his hand to Dysart.
“Thanks for the work,” he said, “and I really am sorry how it turned out with Lesley.”
Dysart saw only sincerity on his face. He shook the hand.
Landry jerked him forward, jammed his left hand into Dysart’s armpit and pivoted to drive him facedown onto the floor. All the air slammed out of Dysart’s lungs. Landry relieved him of the pistol and pointed it at his face.
“The only reason I don’t shoot you right now,” Landry said through clenched teeth, “is that it’s really bad business to kill clients.”
He gave Dysart’s head a vindictive shove into the floor and stood up.
“Plus I know you can never say anything about this, because you’d fall just as hard as I would. Now get up.”
Dysart got shakily to his hands and knees. He didn’t seem able to draw a breath. After a few moments his lungs opened somewhat and he was able to stand.
“Hands up high,” Landry ordered.
He patted the pockets of Dysart’s pants, then extracted the cell phone and a set of keys. Landry spun him around. “Change of plans. I’ve got a score to settle with young Mr. Donovan, so you’re going to get in that fancy Lexus of yours and drive away. And you don’t have to worry. I won’t touch your niece.”
Dysart felt a chill to the core of his body. He knew Landry was lying.
“If for some reason you get a pang of conscience and the cops show up here, then you will die,” Landry said. “I promise you that.”
He placed a hand on the base of Dysart’s neck and walked him rapidly outside to the car.
“And don’t come back,” Landry said. “Otherwise I’ll have to reconsider my policy on shooting clients. In fact …” He shoved Dysart against the side of the car, tossed him the keys and pointed the pistol at him. “… you’ve got five seconds to beat it or I’ll do it right now.”
Dysart clawed his way into the car and over-revved the engine as he started it. Gravel flew when he yanked the gearshift into Reverse, and again when he shifted to Drive. He barely noticed the three cars parked beside the driveway as he tore out onto the dirt road. After a few minutes of barely controlled jouncing, the Lexus slid to a halt and he sat there trying to catch his breath.
No headlights appeared in his rearview mirror.
He slumped in the seat and held his head in one hand. Landry was about to kill Lesley and Dysart knew it was his fault. What an idiot he was.
Could he live with himself if he sat by and did nothing? A spasm of nausea clenched his stomach. He had to choose between prison—or worse—and the torture of knowing he was an accomplice in Lesley’s murder.
He couldn’t stop Landry by himself. Did he have the courage to find a phone, call the police?
Dysart floored the accelerator and the Lexus shot down the dirt road.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
TIM EMERGED FROM a stand of evergreens into a group of birch trees that were starting to lose their leaves. He thought the evergreens might be spruce trees, but the only thing he knew for sure was they scratched his arms plenty on the way through.
He had long ago given up on looking for Lesley. The trees were too dense and he couldn’t see far enough. The terrain he had covered while running from the cabin had been slightly downhill, so now he was moving up again, trying to find his way back. She might have returned to the cabin, and even if she hadn’t, Tim had had enough of wandering around in the darkness. If he found her there, he’d take her along and see where things led. If not, he planned to leave anyway before someone called the police.
The shotgun was heavy and cold in his hands as he started moving again, stepping carefully, as quietly he could. So intent was he on looking and listening for signs of Lesley that he didn’t notice all the noise he made. Twigs crunched underfoot with virtually every step he took.
A rotting log covered with lichen lay across his path at thigh height. He put a hand on it for balance and swung one leg over, then promptly lost his balance and fell. One foot landed on the side of a rock and turned over severely, twisting his ankle.
He yelled out in agony as he rolled to the ground. Pain roiled up and down his leg. His face was a sheen of sweat. He lay there for several minutes, praying for the throbbing to settle down.
Eventually Tim was able to regain his feet. He felt woozy at first, but then the feeling subsided somewhat and he was able to walk, albeit gingerly. After picking his way through the trees for what seemed like a long time, he began to doubt he was heading in the right direction. Then he froze when a twig snapped somewhere up ahead.
How far away was it? Couldn’t have been more than five or six yards. Trying not to move his feet, Tim leaned to his right to look around the bush in front of him. A thick clump of pine trees dominated the view. Beyond that he could see moonlight on open ground and the rear of the cabin. He had found his way back, and someone was near the edge of the clearing just ahead of him, probably on the other side of the pine trees.
Did they know he was there? If so, they gave no sign of it. Tim’s heart pounded as he concentrated, listening for any further noises.
What if it wasn’t Lesley? Tim realized with a start he had left the big guy’s pistol in the cabin, so whoever was on the other side of the trees might even be armed.
The hairs on his arms stood up as he heard a low sob. Who else but Lesley would be crying? Then a high-pitched whimper came, clearly from the direction of the pine tree. Tim smiled in the darkness. It was her.
His aches and pains forgotten, Tim gathered himself and prepared to make a surprise entrance. Taking a deep breath, he shouldered the bush aside and hobbled as quickly as he could around the pine trees with one arm out, ready to grab her before she could run.
“I’m home, dear,” he said.
Tim’s night exploded with noise and a flood of fiery pain as Ray Landry shot him in the gut.
* * *
Rob gripped the pistol more tightly with a sweaty hand and crouched down as low as he could. His racing heart seemed to pound in his ears, making it more difficult to listen for a repeat of the slight noise he had just heard coming from behind him, in the woods.
Then he heard it again, a faint pop as a dried bit of vegetation crunched under someone’s foot. His skin crawled as he turned his head in that direction. He had positioned himself so he was concealed if someone approached from the cabin, but he was more exposed to whoever was coming now.
The small hairs on the back of his neck stirred when he saw a flicker of movement. A shadow that was marginally darker than the surrounding for
est appeared from behind a tree, paused, then moved out of sight again. Rob’s eyes bored a hole in the gloom ahead of the moving shadow. A soft momentary scuffing noise floated his way, then the shadow reappeared, picking its way toward the cars.
Rob shifted his weight carefully, holding his breath as he tried not to make any sound. He brought the gun around slowly and pointed it in the direction the shadow was headed. His hand trembled as his slick finger found the trigger. Another glimpse, closer this time, the edges of the shadow increasingly distinct, taking on a more human shape. The pressure of Rob’s finger increased imperceptibly on the trigger.
Then the shadow passed through a narrow band of moonlight and Rob caught a glimpse of Lesley’s face. He gasped and jerked the gun upright, taking his finger off the trigger. He stood up and called out in a hoarse whisper.
“Lesley.”
Lesley’s hand flew to her face as she turned toward him with a start. He motioned for her to join him. She ran over, crunching through the debris on the ground as she did so. He could feel her trembling against him as she grabbed him in a tight hug and planted her cheek against his chest.
Rob pulled her down so they both crouched next to his bush.
“Oh, God,” she said, “I’m so glad—”
Rob put a hand over her mouth. “Shh,” he said. He held his hand in place while he listened. Lesley made no attempt to remove it. Her eyes darted from side to side in a panicky way. Hearing no sign that anyone had heard them, Rob took his hand away.
“Are you okay?” he said as quietly as he could.
Lesley looked back over her shoulder. “Can we get out of here now?”
“What happened to Tim?”
Lesley seemed to flinch at the mention of the name. “No idea. I lost him, I guess.”
“Well he’s still around somewhere,” Rob said. “His car’s right over there.”
She craned her neck up over a branch to look where he was pointing, then toward the cabin.
“But I don’t see Uncle Stan’s,” she said.
“He’s gone,” Rob said. “I left him to watch the guy who kidnapped me, but he must have got the better of Stan somehow. I saw him troop Stan out of the cabin at gunpoint and force him to drive away. Then the guy started searching the bushes around the cabin.”
“So we can just go.”
“We can’t. Someone ripped the spark plug wires out of my car.”
“But can you hot-wire one of the other cars or something?”
“Wouldn’t even know how to try. Besides, I have to stay here.”
Lesley looked at him in disbelief.
“I got away from that guy once before but it didn’t do any good,” Rob said. “He found me again, and you too. I’m not going to let that happen anymore.”
“But—”
“I’m assuming Stan will send the police as soon as he can. Until they arrive, I plan to make sure the guy doesn’t leave.”
Lesley’s mouth hung open as she stared at him.
“That’s crazy,” she said. “We need to get away from him, not stay here where he can find us.”
“You’re half right. I don’t want you here if he shows up. You should start walking out of here. I’ll catch up as soon as I make sure no one’s coming after us.”
“No way,” Lesley said. “I’ve had my fill of being alone in the woods at night.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m staying.”
“You said the police will probably be here soon. Let’s just leave and let them take care of it.”
Rob shook his head. “I can’t take that chance. I need to finish this. Tonight.”
“But how are you going to—”
Both of them jumped when a gunshot split the night. Their heads swiveled as they tried to separate the echoes from the true direction of the sound.
“I think that came from the other side of the cabin,” Rob said.
Lesley put her hand on his arm. He could feel her trembling.
“You stay here,” he said. “I’m going to circle around and see what happened.”
“No,” she said in a shocked whisper.
“I know where he is, and he doesn’t know where I am,” Rob said. “That advantage won’t last long. I have to go now.”
She looked at him with terrified eyes.
* * *
Once Rob was close to the spot where he thought the gunshot had happened, the moaning guided him the rest of the way.
“Oh,” the voice croaked. “Help me.”
Rob pushed aside a leafy branch so he could see the clearing. Tim lay next to a clump of pine trees, clutching his hands over his stomach. Rob moved the branch further and looked around, but saw no one else.
He hesitated before emerging from cover, suddenly wondering if giving Kirsten’s gun to Lesley had been such a good idea. Screwing up his courage, he hurried over to Tim and crouched beside him. Tim’s face was slick with sweat. He looked up at Rob through barely open eyes.
“Oh, Rob. It hurts.”
The lower half of Tim’s T-shirt was soaked in blood, which looked pure black in the moonlight. Rob remembered having plenty of evil thoughts about his ‘buddy’ earlier in the day, but he wouldn’t wish this kind of suffering on anyone.
“Hang on,” Rob said. “Help should be here soon.”
Tim winced and lifted his head off the ground in apparent agony.
Landry stepped out from behind a nearby clump of trees.
“I’m not sure the help will be soon enough,” he said.
Rob’s mouth went dry as he stared once more at the nine-millimeter.
“Stand up,” Landry said, “and keep your hands where I can see them.”
Rob did as he was told.
“That makes two out of three,” Landry said with a self-satisfied tone. “Now I can use you to flush out your girlfriend.”
Landry emerged from the shadows and nudged Tim with his toe.
“Think she’d give herself up if she thought it would keep you from ending up like him?”
Rob dropped to the ground and a gunshot rang out immediately. The bullet hit Landry’s left shoulder and he fell backwards. Rob struggled up as quickly as his gimpy knee would handle and launched himself on top of Landry. Rob grappled for the gun the older man still held in his right hand. Even with his wound, Landry might have gotten the upper hand, except Lesley ran out of the trees from the same spot where Rob had emerged. She pointed Kirsten’s gun at Landry’s head, at which point he stopped struggling and Rob took the nine-millimeter.
Rob scrambled away from Landry and pointed the gun at him with both hands. Lesley knelt down beside Tim.
“Oh, Tim,” she said.
Tim looked up at her. Rob saw a dribble of blood at the corner of his mouth.
“All I wanted …” Tim paused to cough, which caused him to screw up his face in pain. “… was for you to love me back.”
Lesley’s face crumpled.
“You just lay still,” she said.
Rob kept his attention mostly on Landry until he heard Lesley’s sharp intake of breath.
“No,” she said, “you have to breathe.”
Rob looked down to see Tim’s head slumped to one side. As soon as he did, some primitive survival instinct screamed that he had made a mistake. He whipped his head back around in time to see Landry pull a second pistol from the small of his back. Rob started pulling the trigger as quickly as he could. The noise was deafening. At some point after the third shot he realized something had barely missed the side of his head and Landry was down with a dark bloom spreading in the center of his chest.
Keeping his gun pointed at Landry, Rob sidled in close, kicked the backup pistol away from a motionless hand, and then backed out of reach. He watched Landry closely for signs of life but saw no movement.
Rob looked down at Lesley and saw her sitting beside Tim with tears running silently down her cheeks. She was holding Tim’s hand, but it looked like he was past the point where he would ever know about it.<
br />
That’s when they heard the faint sound of sirens.
CHAPTER FORTY
ROB SAT SLUMPED in a folding chair, his arms resting on a gunmetal gray table. The interrogation room was nicer than the ones he had endured in Boston. At least this one had windows, although the darkness outside matched his mood. His swollen knee and aching shoulders were complaining like crazy, and he was still numb from finding out about his good friend’s betrayal. The two dead bodies he had left in his wake didn’t help either.
He did his best not to stare back at the officer assigned to stand guard over him. The officer leaned against the wall with folded arms just inside the door. They had been waiting in the room for over an hour, with the pudgy officer watching Rob the entire time. Apparently they didn’t get many famous computer criminals in Worcester. This guy was determined to get an eyeful while he had the chance.
Rob wanted to talk to someone so the whole mess could be over, but he had been given little chance to do so. His frustration had been building ever since the two police cruisers with Worcester County Sheriff’s Department on the doors had arrived at the cabin, their flashing lights casting eerie shadows in the surrounding woods. He and Lesley had given the officers a quick recap of how Tim and the other man had died, then the two of them had been bundled into the back seats of separate cars and left to wait until the officers were done at the scene.
Things hadn’t improved much when they arrived at the Sheriff’s Office. He and Lesley were placed immediately in separate rooms, not long after which Rob had a brief interview with the Sheriff himself. Sheriff Olmstead had a broad, ruddy face and a closely clipped mustache that matched the way he talked. Everything he said sounded like a military command. Olmstead got Rob to sketch out the barest details of what had happened at the cabin and then had shut him down, saying that someone else would be in to question him in more detail. Rob could only assume Lesley had been treated the same way. Since then Rob had grown so annoyed he could almost taste the frustration like a bitterness at the back of his throat.
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