“Okay, but if it doesn’t work we gotta call. It’s been half an hour since he tranked us, an’ who knows how long it’ll take the cops to get here an’ spring us. If they’re busy today…”
“Yeah, I know.” I untied my running shoe and jerked it off with my free hand, followed by my sock. “Okay, your turn to give me as much slack as you can.”
“’Kay…” He crammed his hand against the headboard. “Sorry, darlin’, my arm won’t fit through.” He eyed the slats with frustration. “If I could get far enough away I could kick the fuckin’ thing to pieces, but I ain’t that much of a contortionist.”
I eyed his bulky frame fondly and dropped a kiss on his lips. “You’re flexible enough for what I need. Lie on your back.”
He complied, grinning up at me. “This’s gettin’ good,” he teased as I turned to face the foot of the bed, my handcuffed arm behind me while I knelt astride him. “I’m likin’ your kink. But I hate to say it, darlin’, we ain’t got time for this right now.”
I gave him a playful fondle in a place that made him purr. “You’ve got a one-track mind. Put your knees up. No, a little lower. Lower… Good, there,” I said when his knees were at the same level as the footboard. “Now hold your arm up and bend your elbow so your forearm is across your body and parallel to the bed. That’s where I’m going to put my shoulders.”
“Good thinkin’, darlin’,” he agreed as I leaned into his arm and arched my back to carefully position the backs of my thighs on his knees. “But be careful,” he added. “If ya fall, you’ll rip your fuckin’ arm off.”
“So don’t let me fall,” I panted, wobbling precariously while I squirmed toward the foot of the bed, my handcuffed arm stretched above my head. His knees bruised the backs of my legs and his forearm felt like an iron bar across my shoulders. “Thank God you’re strong,” I added, and drew a breath of relief when my heels touched the footboard.
Momentarily stabilized, I panted a few breaths. His arm was still a rock-solid support for my upper body, and I sent up brief but fervent thanks.
“Okay,” I said. “This is it. Give me as much chain as you’ve got.”
He grunted assent, and I squirmed carefully and painfully toward the dresser, the handcuff tightening on my wrist, my bare toes reaching for the key.
“Stretch me!” I hissed, and his knees dug into my ass in response. I inched forward, my shoulder pulling almost out of its socket.
My breath came in sharp gasps of pain and effort. Under my back, his supporting arm vibrated with strain. My toes reached, squirmed, curled…
“Got it!” I cried, and jerked my foot back. “…Whoa-shit!”
Toppling off Hellhound’s knees, I fell for a horrifying instant before his powerful arm snagged me from the air and body-slammed me onto the bed. I lay gasping for a moment, braced for the agony of a dislocated shoulder, but it didn’t come.
“Ya okay, Aydan?” He rolled onto his knees beside me, wincing.
“Yeah.” I let relief seep in until I realized his face had a faint greenish tinge and sweat beaded his brow. I bolted up to sitting position. “You’re hurt! What’s wrong? Is it your arm?”
“Nah.” He managed a strangled chuckle. “Ya nutted me. I ain’t likin’ your kink quite so much anymore.”
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry!” I reached involuntarily for the injured area before drawing my hand back and stroking his arm instead. “Um… how bad is it?”
“I’ll live.” He flashed me a grin. “Ya can kiss it better later. Let’s get outta these cuffs.”
“I dropped the key. It should be at the foot of the bed.”
“Okay, gimme some chain, darlin’.”
I complied and he reached, coming up a moment later with a grunt of triumph and the key.
Free at last, I strapped on my waist pouch and hurried for the door. “Do you know where Scot Murphy lives?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Yeah, he’s on an acreage south a’ town, but slow down, darlin’,” Hellhound admonished. “First lemme try phonin’ Kane. He might pick up now that he knows we’re damn near forty-five minutes behind him. An’ go grab some food from the fridge. Might be a long day an’ we can’t have ya passin’ out.”
“Right…” I headed for the kitchen, only to turn aside. “And I need a bathroom break. I needed to pee when I got here and now my back teeth are floating.”
Hellhound threw me a grin, phone pressed to his ear. “Really glad ya managed to hold it, darlin’. Golden showers ain’t my thing.”
“Ew.” I hurried into the bathroom.
When I returned, Hellhound was scowling at the phone.
“No luck?” I inquired, my heart sinking.
“Nah. Come on, we’ll take my SUV an’ head for Murphy’s place. Ya can call Webb on the way an’ see if he can track Kane’s cell phone.”
We hurried out, and as soon as I was settled in Hellhound’s passenger seat I dialled Spider.
He answered on the first ring, and I rapped out, “John ran off on us. Can you track his cell phone and find out where he is?”
“Ran off…?”
“Long story. Can you find him?”
“Um, probably, but it’ll take me longer than if I was at work…”
“Do it,” I snapped. “We think he’s headed for Scot Murphy’s place. John thinks Matthew died last year and Scot has been trying to replace him by abducting children who look like him.”
“Oh, no!” Spider’s voice rose in consternation. “Aydan, that’s all wrong! Matthew isn’t dead. Scot Murphy’s children are home-schooled, and I just found out that Matthew completed his academic equivalence test for Grade One two weeks ago!”
I allowed myself a single heartfelt bellow of ‘FUCK!’ before adding, “Find him, Spider! ASAP!”
“I will, I will! I’ll call you as soon as I have something!”
I disconnected and turned to face Hellhound’s worried frown. “Matthew isn’t dead. Spider just found his school records from two weeks ago.”
“Fuck!” He stepped on the gas and the SUV leaped forward. “Shit, darlin’, I coulda sworn Kane was right about those kids on the Facebook page.”
“What?” I stared over at him. “But you said…”
“I was just tryin’ to keep him from goin’ off half-cocked. Those kids…” He shook his head. “They were different. Different builds. An’ he was right, they looked scared.”
“But…” I clutched my pounding head. “Why…”
“I dunno, but we better catch Kane, an’ fast.”
“But, Arnie, he’s an agent. If he doesn’t want to be found, we won’t be able to find him.”
Hellhound reached over to pat my leg. “Yeah, but I think he’ll let us find him.” When I gaped open-mouthed, he explained, “He was just protectin’ us. Makin’ sure we can’t be charged as accessories.” He glanced at his watch, his face grim. “By now he’ll have snatched Murphy, an’ he’s prob’ly already got answers. Soon’s he finds Daniel an’ makes sure he’s safe, he’ll prob’ly call the cops an’ make it look like we turned him in for roughin’ up Murphy.”
“But…” My heart sank all the way to my toes and I turned an imploring look at Hellhound. “But he can’t get arrested! He’ll lose all his pension and benefits…”
“Little late to worry ‘bout that,” Hellhound said grimly. “Soon’s he lays a hand on Murphy, he’s goin’ to jail. The only question is whether it’s for assault or murder.”
Chapter 41
Hurtling south on Highway 2 well above the speed limit, I stared out the windshield half-paralyzed with fear while Hellhound wove in and out of traffic with grim concentration. When my burner phone vibrated it took an effort to unlock my grip on the Jesus bar above the window.
“Kelly,” I said faintly.
“It’s Spider. I’ve got Kane’s phone northbound on Highway 2, just north of DeWinton.”
“Northbound?” I squawked. “Fuck, we just passed him! Turn around, turn around!”
&nb
sp; Hellhound slammed on the brakes and careened over to the side of the highway where a turnoff loomed impossibly close. By the time I pried my eyes open and restarted my heart we were already accelerating northbound, leaving behind a chorus of honking horns.
“Where is he?” Hellhound rasped.
“Spider, where is he now?” I activated the speaker on my phone so we could both hear his reply.
“Still northbound. It looks like… yes, he’s taking Deerfoot.”
“Lemme know if he turns off,” Hellhound commanded. “Aydan, keep your eyes peeled.”
In the heavier traffic as we approached the city, Hellhound’s speed was even more terrifying. If not for the need to watch for Kane’s black Expedition, I would have squeezed my eyes shut and prayed. As it was, I clung to every ounce of trust I had in Hellhound’s driving skills and concentrated on the traffic ahead of us.
“Fuck, how fast is he goin’?” Hellhound growled. “We shoulda caught up to him by now.”
“He’s going at the speed limit,” Spider replied. “Oh, wait, hang on… he’s turning off. He’s taking the Glenmore exit.”
“What the fuck!” Hellhound snarled, and made another suicidal dive across three lanes of traffic to take the Memorial Drive exit. “We passed him! How the hell did we miss him?”
“I’m s-sorry,” I quavered, my heart rattling in my throat. “I must have c-closed my eyes for a second…”
“It ain’t your fault, darlin’, I didn’t see him, either. Webb, where is he?”
“Westbound on Glenmore.”
Hellhound slowed to a decorous fifteen kilometres over the speed limit. “I bet he’s gonna take Glenmore north to Sarcee. He’s headin’ up to the forestry reserve. If Murphy talked…”
I glanced over at his grim profile, my heart breaking for Kane. “Murphy confessed that he killed Daniel and hid his body right near where he abducted him. Oh, no. Poor John.”
Hellhound slowed to the speed limit. “Webb, can ya pick up my cell on your GPS, too? Watch an’ make sure we don’t overshoot him again. I’m gonna take Memorial to Crowchild an’ from there I can hook up with the TransCanada or 1A, whichever he decides to take. If he changes course, lemme know, but I’m bettin’ I’m right.”
“It looks like it,” Spider said in a small voice. “He’s just following Glenmore onto Sarcee now.” He fell silent for a moment before adding, “This is awful. I know it was stupid, but…” His swallow came clearly over the speaker and when he spoke again his voice was choked. “I was really hoping for a happy ending.”
“Me, too,” I said softly, grief bowing my shoulders. “But… it might be best this way. If he didn’t suffer long.”
“Keep your head in the game ‘til it’s over, darlin’,” Hellhound rasped. “Even if we can’t help Daniel anymore, we gotta look out for Kane.”
“You’re right.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and straightened under the weight of despair. “How are we doing, Spider? Are we still converging?”
“Yes.”
We rode in silence until we had merged onto Crowchild Trail.
“He’s westbound on the TransCanada now,” Spider reported. A few minutes later he added, “Now he’s merging onto Stoney Trail.”
“Awright, he’s headin’ for 1A,” Hellhound said, and accelerated slightly above the speed limit again. “Tell me when I’m gettin’ close.”
Several more minutes passed before Spider spoke again. “You’re coming up behind him now. You should be in visual range.”
Hellhound and I both scanned for a black Expedition.
“I can’t see him,” I said. “Are you sure we’re close?”
Spider sounded puzzled. “You’re practically on top of him.”
Fear seized my heart. “Oh, God, what if Murphy killed him and he’s going to dump his body-”
“What does Murphy drive?” Hellhound barked.
Spider’s voice rose in anxiety. “I don’t know; hang on!” The frantic clicking of computer keys filtered over the speaker while we stared at the vehicles around us.
Approximately an eternity later, Spider spoke again. “A two-tone brown Dodge Ram 3500-”
“There!” I jabbed my finger at a jacked-up dually truck with knobby tires and a quad tied into the box a few cars ahead of us. “Got him!”
“Can’t see the driver,” Hellhound muttered and accelerated.
As we drew abreast of the truck I stared in the window and my heart gave a sharp contraction of relief. “He’s okay!”
“Thank God!” Spider breathed. “Is he driving?”
“No.”
Scot Murphy didn’t look much like the cocky redneck from his Facebook photos anymore. In the driver’s seat, he stared rigidly ahead, hands on the wheel at ten o’clock and two o’clock positions. His face was shock-white, and even from several feet away I could see him trembling.
On the passenger’s side, Kane’s gaze flicked away from Murphy for an instant. He acknowledged our presence with a tiny jerk of his chin to the rear, then returned his attention to Murphy. His hands weren’t visible, but I could guess what at least one of them was doing.
“He’s got a weapon on Murphy and he wants us to follow,” I said just as Hellhound slackened his speed.
“Got it, darlin’,” he said, and drifted back to pull in behind the big truck. “Makes sense,” he added. “Kane wouldn’t just believe him. He’ll make him take us right to Daniel.”
The words, ‘…and then kill him’ hung unspoken in the air.
I nodded, and we drove on in silence.
When we turned north on the forestry trunk road, Spider’s voice came through the speaker in a staticky crackle. “I’m losing your cell phone signal. I can still track you by GPS but we might not be able to communicate.”
“Okay, thanks, Spider. I’ll hang up now. Just keep watching us, and I’ll call you when I can.”
I disconnected, and Hellhound sent a glance my way. “Didn’t wanna say anythin’ while Webb was listenin’, but…” He stared out the windshield into the choking cloud of Murphy’s dust. “We gonna let Kane kill him?”
Letting my head fall back onto the headrest, I stared at the ceiling. “If he’s a sicko who’s been murdering little boys?” I swallowed red-hot anger, but it still choked my voice when I spoke again. “The world would be a better place without him. But…”
Hellhound sighed. “Yeah. But. We can’t let Kane kill him. Right now he’s on the hook for assault an’ kidnappin’, an’ prob’ly forcible confinement an’ a weapons charge or two, but I still think a judge would go easy on him. But if he kills that fuckin’ waste a’ skin it’ll be a different story. He’ll go down for premeditated murder.”
“Do you think we’ll actually be able to stop him?”
My question hung between us like a portent.
Hellhound’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “I dunno.”
After nearly forty minutes of driving north, Murphy’s truck turned off the main road and began to wind through heavier forest on increasingly narrower byways.
“Fuck.” Hellhound broke the silence that had filled the SUV. “If he’s gonna use that quad…”
“Damn. If I’d only known, I could have brought my truck and my dirt bike.” I glared into the dust cloud. “What will we do? John can probably make Murphy drive the quad and ride behind him…”
“Don’t think he’d do that,” Hellhound objected. “Too easy to flip a quad, an’ the passenger always gets the worst of it. Better if Kane ties Murphy onto the back an’ makes him give directions.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed. “But then he’d have to turn his back on Murphy. And either way, that leaves us on foot and far behind. We can’t protect either of them from each other. Dammit!”
Hellhound growled agreement, then added, “But Kane’s smart. He’s prob’ly got a plan.”
“When he’s not sleep-deprived and suffering from PTSD he’s smart,” I said doubtfully.
“Even so, I trust him
more’n any other fresh an’ rested guy,” Hellhound said with certainty. “Ya got your Glock? We can’t go much farther before we run outta road so we better be ready.”
“I’ve got it.” Delving into my backpack, I extracted my shoulder holster and strapped it on, then transferred my Glock into it and wriggled into the ugly jacket. “Are you armed?” I asked.
“Nah. Left my sidearm back home when we got back from Rocky Mountain House, an’ I been at Kane’s ever since.”
“Well, take this, then.” I freed the trank pistol from my other ankle and handed it over along with the spare magazine.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He stuffed the weapon into the back of his jeans and tugged his T-shirt over top, concealing absolutely nothing. He gave my jacket a humorous sidelong glance. “Chilly?”
I winked. “Something like that.”
A few minutes later Murphy’s truck turned onto a crossing that led into a small clearing where a few other trucks were parked. Murphy nosed in beside them and stopped, and Hellhound did the same.
“Awright, darlin’,” he said. “Let’s go give Murphy a welcomin’ committee.”
We both jumped out of the SUV and I shouldered my pack before hurrying after his long strides. God, I didn’t even want to imagine the depth of shit I’d be in if I left classified technology lying around in the woods.
As we reached Murphy’s truck the driver’s door swung open and Murphy slithered slowly out, grimacing. Behind him, Kane kept a fist clenched on his collar and a dangerous-looking knife pressed against his back as he followed.
Up close Murphy looked even worse. He was still trembling and white to the lips and he didn’t seem to be able to stand up straight. Dark moisture stains on the inner legs of his jeans looked like watery blood, and sweat soaked his T-shirt and trickled down the sides of his face.
My mind served up an unwelcome memory of Kane’s cold voice: ‘I know a lot of ways to make excruciating pain last and last’.
A shudder shook me.
Kane’s eyes were completely devoid of emotion, the blank soulless grey of a shark. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll kill him,” he said as Hellhound stepped forward.
The Spies That Bind Page 33