While Foster ordered breakfast, Emma texted Quinn to join them.
• CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT •
“POLICE service for Dolan Springs is provided by the Mohave Sheriff’s Department out of Kingman,” Foster told them as he salted his over-easy eggs. “That’s about twenty miles from there. I could give them a call but it might put the ladies in greater danger.”
“Yeah,” agreed Quinn. “They’d surround the trailer with drawn guns and we’d find ourselves in a standoff and the women with guns to their heads?”
“I think this is something we need to do on our own,” said Emma. She turned to Granny. “Go back out there, Granny, and see if it’s still just Lloyd and Frankie on watch.”
Emma pulled out her iPad as Granny took off.
“If it’s just them,” said Quinn, “maybe we can devise a plan to divert their attention long enough to get the women out of there.”
Emma pulled up a map of Dolan Springs and showed it to Foster. “Laura told Granny they are on Ironwood.” She pointed to a street on the enlarged map. “As you can see, there aren’t many buildings along Ironwood. Frankie drives an old black compact pickup and the trailer is white with green trim. It shouldn’t be too hard to spot.”
“Problem is,” noted Phil, “with so few buildings around, it will be difficult to sneak up on them.”
“Phil’s right,” agreed Foster. “There’s no place to take cover.”
“As I said, we need a diversion,” noted Quinn. “Something that might draw the guys out of the trailer without their guns. Or at least if they have them, they’re not aiming them at anyone.” Everyone nodded in agreement, their heads bobbing over the map like bobbleheads while they thought about it.
“How about running along the streets on either side,” said Phil. “They don’t look that far apart.”
“No, they don’t,” agreed Foster. Using a finger, he measured the distance. “According to the legend, they’re only about five to six hundred feet apart.”
“I have an idea.” The men all looked at Emma. She turned to Quinn. “I hope you have good insurance on that rental.”
• • •
THE DRIVE TO Dolan Springs would take about an hour. Emma would go with Foster in his Prius. Phil and Quinn would follow in the Jeep.
“I don’t like this,” Phil said, taking Emma aside as they filed into the parking lot to start the journey. “I’d rather one of us go with him, not you.”
“You don’t trust Detective Foster?” Emma asked.
“I want to, but you never know. He could still be hiding something.”
She considered his words. “You might be right, but my gut says to trust him.”
As they joined Foster at his vehicle, Quinn trotted up to them. He handed Emma the binoculars. “Take these. You’ll need them to watch us. And take this.” In his other hand was the Taser. He quickly showed her how it worked.
Foster checked out the Taser. “Not a bad idea.”
Foster reached under his car seat and retrieved a square metal box.
“A gun safe in a Prius?” Phil asked.
Foster smiled as he worked the combination lock. “The Prius is my wife’s car. Mine is in the shop, but I couldn’t leave this with it.” He opened the lid exposing a good-size handgun. “Any of you know how to shoot a gun?”
“Phil,” answered both Emma and Quinn almost at the same time.
Foster looked at Phil and he nodded. “Own a couple, including rifles.”
“Good.” Foster handed Phil the weapon. “I have my service revolver. You take this. I’d feel better if both vehicles were armed going out there.”
Foster made a call to his station and asked to speak to his captain. Emma started to protest, but he stopped her. “Trust me.” He walked away. When the call ended, he paused and gave each of them a long hard look. “I just asked my captain to bring in both Gene and Howard Garby on suspicion of murder and kidnapping. I may not want a showdown in the desert, but we need to keep both of them under wraps until this is over. This will do it, providing they find them. Cap said Howard called in sick, which makes me suspicious.”
“And your captain agreed?” Phil was incredulous.
“Like I said, Howard’s not an easy guy to get along with, especially these days, and Cap is one of the people he’s been rubbing the wrong way. If Howard’s involved in this, it might explain a few things. I asked my captain to give me a couple of hours before explaining further. He knows I like Howard and wouldn’t be doing this without good reason.” Emma started to move away to get into the car, but Foster grabbed her arm. “Not only is Arizona not in my jurisdiction, but I just put my entire career on the line. If you’re playing me, I’ll go down in flames.”
Emma locked eyes with Foster. “I understand.”
They stared at each other a few seconds longer before Foster said, “Let’s roll.”
Emma sidled up to Phil. “Do you feel better now about Foster?”
He checked out the gun in his hand and gave her a quick wink. “Much. But you still be careful and don’t hesitate to use that zapper … on anyone. You hear?”
Phil escorted Emma to the front passenger’s side of the Prius and opened the door for her. She started to climb into the car, then stopped. She straightened, wrapped an arm around his neck, and planted a long, hard kiss on Phil’s lips. “You will not be sleeping on the sofa tonight, cowboy.”
He chuckled. “Now that’s what I call an incentive to get this wrapped up and quickly.”
The road to Dolan Springs took them back down the 93 and through Boulder City. Foster pointed out Hoover Dam as they passed it. “Ever see it up close?” he asked. “It’s a wonder. I brought Suzanne out here shortly after we moved to Vegas.”
“Yes,” Emma said. “When my daughter was around fourteen, she and I took the full tour of it.”
“You were married to Grant Whitecastle then, weren’t you?”
She nodded. “But he stayed in Vegas and hit the tables. That was his thing. The next day Kelly and I took a Grand Canyon tour, including a helicopter ride. We had a lot of fun.”
“You just have the one kid?”
“Yes. She’s a junior at Harvard. Hard to believe.” She pulled her eyes away from the desert landscape and glanced at Foster. “Before you know it, Nicholas will be off to college, so savor each moment.”
“I do. I love being with him. Kids are messy but fun.”
“They’re even messy when they’re older; it’s just a different kind of mess.”
Emma’s phone rang. It was Milo. “Hey, Milo. No,” she lied, “nothing new to report. What are you doing?” Pause. “Okay, stay close to the phone, just in case.”
“You haven’t told Dolly’s son any of this?” Foster seemed surprised.
“No. I’m not sure if that makes me a good friend or a bad friend.”
Foster was silent for a bit, then said, “In this case, probably a good friend. He doesn’t seem as equipped as you for handling emergencies.”
“Milo’s usually pretty calm and collected, but this thing with his mother has him pretty rattled. Finding out about his father hasn’t helped. I was afraid he’d call the police or come to Dolan Springs himself.”
“But you called the police,” Foster pointed out.
“No, I called you. You called the police.”
They exchanged looks.
“Reporting in, Chief.” Granny materialized in the backseat. She looked around.
“Hey, Granny,” Emma said, turning around. “Phil and Quinn are right behind us.”
The car swerved slightly. “There’s a ghost in here with us?” asked Foster, glancing around as much as he dared while driving.
“Yes,” Emma answered, “Granny’s back.”
He shook his head. “I’m still not sure if I believe this stuff.”
“You don’t have to believe it to help.”
Granny buzzed with excitement. “We gonna break into the trailer like a SWAT team?”
/> “No, Granny, not like SWAT. But we do have a plan. We’re hoping to get them to come outside.” Emma turned again in her seat to look at Granny. “What’s going on at the trailer?”
“Those two gave Laura and Dolly bathroom visits and some cereal, then settled in front of the TV with their own bowls. They’re watching cartoons. But I’m glad we’re heading there. I don’t think we have much time.”
Emma grew alarmed. “Why do you say that?”
“What’s going on?” asked Foster.
“Hold on,” Emma said to him.
“That Lloyd got a phone call. I think it was Gene Garby because he called him Dad. They must have been fighting because he was yelling into the phone.”
“Could you tell what they were fighting about?”
“I got the feeling his father wants him to do something and he doesn’t want to do it. And whatever it is, it’s supposed to be done today. Then Frankie told him to shut up because he couldn’t hear the TV. When Lloyd didn’t stop yelling into the phone, Frankie turned up the TV until it was deafening. I couldn’t hear a thing, but neither could Lloyd. He finally walked over to the TV and shut it off, making Frankie mad, but he didn’t do anything about it. I think it’s because it was Gene on the phone. Those boys are like a cat and a dog forced to share the same cage.”
Emma turned to Foster. “Granny says Lloyd and Frankie are getting on each other’s nerves.”
“Good,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the road. “We might be able to use that; pit them against each other.”
Emma turned back to Granny. “Were you able to tell what it was Gene wanted them to do?”
Granny, her face screwed up like a dried apple doll, tried hard to remember. “It had something to do with gasoline, I think. Lloyd kept saying he had the gas.”
“Gasoline? Maybe he meant he’d gassed up the car for the trip to Las Vegas.”
Granny wasn’t so sure. “Maybe, but I don’t think so. He said the gas was in the trunk of the car. That I’m sure I heard.”
“Think harder, Granny,” Emma urged.
“I’m trying. I’m trying.” The ghost concentrated. “Lloyd kept saying he didn’t want to hurt them. I think he meant Laura and Dolly. He said a couple of times that he didn’t want to kill them. That they didn’t have to die. Then he gave the phone to Frankie and that’s when I got scared.”
Emma’s gut turned. It sounded like they were going to kill the women no matter what happened to the money. “So Frankie talked to Gene. What then?”
“He listened mostly, then told Gene not to worry, that he’d take care of it. And that was it.”
“Nothing else?”
“Then Frankie told Lloyd he’d light the torch if Lloyd was too much of a kitty cat to do it.”
Kitty cat. If Emma hadn’t been so terrified, she would have found Granny’s misunderstanding of the vulgarity amusing.
“Light the torch or torch the place, Granny? Exactly what did Frankie say?”
Granny looked confused. “Ain’t they the same thing?”
“No, not exactly.”
For a minute Emma thought she’d stopped breathing. “Hurry,” she said to Foster. “I think they’re going to burn down the trailer with the women inside.”
Before they got to Dolan Springs, Emma called Phil and Quinn and told them what Granny had said. They were even more determined to go through with the plan. Granny left to go back to Dolly and keep watch in the trailer.
“Aim for the black pickup,” Foster cautioned Quinn over the speaker phone, “not the other car, just in case Granny’s right about gas stored in that vehicle.”
When they rolled into town, Emma gave Phil and Quinn directions from the map on her iPad. “We’re on Pierce Ferry now,” she told them. “When we get to Seventh Street, we’ll take a right. When you get to Ironwood, which is one block past Iron Drive, take another right. We’ll continue another block before turning right onto Ivy.”
“Wow,” said Quinn, “this really is out in the middle of nowhere.”
“As flat as it is out here,” continued Emma, “you should be able to see us traveling along Ivy parallel to you. Go slow, give us time to get behind the trailer before starting the action. The trailer should be easy to spot. There’s almost no other buildings out here.” She put down her iPad and picked up the binoculars.
It didn’t take long before Foster and Emma passed Ironwood and made the turn onto Ivy. Her cell phone was still connected to the Jeep. “Okay,” she said. “Up ahead on your left is a white trailer. Hang back until we give you the signal.”
When they reached the trailer, Foster eased the Prius off of the road and onto the desert floor. Being careful to dodge rocks and prickly shrubs, he moved the compact car directly behind the trailer so no one could see it approaching from a side front window where the men were mostly likely holed up. There were windows in the back but they were closed and covered. The arthritic groans of an old air conditioner could be heard from a window near the front.
“You can hear the TV from here,” Emma whispered. “There’s no way they’re going to hear us coming between that and the AC.”
“I agree,” Foster whispered back. “I wish I had my SUV for this terrain, but at least this car is quiet.”
When they were directly behind the trailer, they stopped and quietly opened their doors and eased out. Emma had her Taser. Foster his gun. Turning to their right, they could see the Jeep. It was on Ironwood, slowly getting closer. Emma glanced at Foster. He gave her a nod. She raised her left hand in the direction of Quinn and Phil. A second later, an arm was extended out of the Jeep’s driver’s side, letting her know they could see her. She dropped her left arm fast, slicing the air like a starter at a race. The Jeep’s engine gunned and sped up the street, aiming for the black pickup truck, which was parked right where Emma had seen it in her vision.
Emma and Foster watched as the Jeep came up the street, then swerved to the left, heading for the pickup. At the last minute it swerved right, tires screeching, the side of the shiny vehicle clipping the pickup along its side with a loud crash that vibrated through the still warm air. Emma held her breath, sure the Jeep would tip and Phil and Quinn would be seriously hurt. But it didn’t tip—it spun fully around and came to a stop in the middle of the road.
Emma and Foster ducked behind the trailer as Lloyd and Frankie piled down the steps next to Lloyd’s car and spilled into the street.
Granny popped out next to Emma. “Lloyd has a gun, but I think Frankie left his on the kitchen table,” she reported.
Emma told Foster in a whisper, “Granny thinks only Lloyd has a gun.” He nodded his understanding.
“My truck!” screamed Frankie when he saw the damage. “My truck!”
Most of the action was taking place on the side with the carport. Foster started for that side, taking cover behind the lean-to. He motioned for Emma to go around the other side of the trailer.
She could hear Frankie screaming obscenities and Quinn’s voice raised in excitement, telling them it was an accident and he’d take care of everything. Quinn sounded drunk, but of course he wasn’t. Emma wondered where Phil was. She couldn’t make out his voice in the mix. Was he in the fray, or lying low in the Jeep, protecting Quinn from behind with Foster’s extra gun trained on one of the thugs?
“Look,” she heard Quinn say, “my friend might be hurt. I need to call an ambulance.”
Emma’s blood ran cold, not knowing if it was part of the ruse or if Phil really was injured.
“You’re not calling anyone,” she heard someone say. It must have been Lloyd.
“Come on, man,” Quinn said. Emma listened to the tone of Quinn’s voice, which was pleading but with an undertone of lazy casualness. It was definitely not his usual take-charge voice. She decided it meant Phil was okay and Quinn was playing his part. She breathed easier and continued with the plan.
Quickly and quietly, Emma went up the back steps, which were out of view of the street activit
y, and tried the door. Finding it unlocked, she entered and was immediately hit with a blast of cold air. She’d been right—between the TV and the AC, anyone could have snuck up on these two. The door opened to the kitchen area. Emma tiptoed deeper into the main part of the mobile home and noticed the door to the carport was located in the living room. The inside was a pigsty of takeout containers and pizza boxes, and smelled of stale food and dirty clothes. On the table, right where Granny had said it would be, was a gun—Frankie’s gun. Emma started past it then, having second thoughts, picked it up. She didn’t like guns any more than Quinn did, but she was now glad Phil had insisted that she know how to use one. Making sure the safety was on, she stuck it in her waistband. Better she have it than someone else.
Peeking out the side window, she saw the men facing off. The thin one, who she guessed was Frankie, was still screaming at Quinn, who was in the middle of the street by the turned Jeep trying to apologize. He was offering money, telling Frankie he’d take care of all the damage in cash so as not to involve his insurance company. She still couldn’t see Phil. Lloyd was at the end of the carport watching the entire drama but not participating. The only voices were coming from Frankie and Quinn. She strained to see more, being careful not to make any movements that might attract attention. Lloyd had a gun in his hand, but it was down at his side. Something caught her eye by the window. It was John Foster. He’d left the lean-to and was moving step by step toward the street, keeping low and using Lloyd’s car as cover.
“How in the hell did you get here?”
She whipped around and saw Nemo’s ghost. He was standing in the hallway, blocking her way, his hazy countenance screwed with anger.
Good, Emma thought. Nemo doesn’t know about Foster and what’s going on outside.
“Down here, Emma.” From the end of the hall, Granny waved to her.
“It’s over, Nemo. Your scheme is finished and so are your sons.” She trotted down the hallway, passing a dirty bathroom, going through the ghost of Nemo to reach Granny.
The door to Dolly’s room was flimsy and locked using an old-fashioned hook lock fastened near the top. It was pretty rickety security, but it would hold up against an old woman. Emma unlatched the lock and opened the door. Dolly was crouched on a dirty double bed. The room was hot, with only a fan for circulation. Across from the bed was another TV. This one was turned on to a game show. Dolly looked up at Emma, but her gaze wasn’t focused.
4 Ghost of a Gamble Page 22