by J. D. Allen
55
A man came running around the back of the house. He was tall, red-headed, and had a dry phone in his hand.
He fell to his knees beside Ava. It was clear he was talking. Some sound was drifting through the haze of Jim’s hearing. Not enough to understand completely.
Call maybe. Others? Jim shook his head no. At least he hoped there was no one in that cabin. God, he hoped Sandy wasn’t in there.
Jim pointed to his ear and shook his head. The universal I can’t hear you gesture earned a returned sign for I called for help.
The man opened up a fanny pack medical kit. Johnny-on-the-spot this guy was. He rinsed Ava’s forehead with water from a squirt bottle. She closed her eyes to keep from getting fluid in them. The cut wasn’t as bad as Jim had first thought.
Jim got up and strode to the burning structure. All he could think of was the bonfires his buddies used to throw in college. In his past life. Before his world fell to pieces. He’d gotten it together since then. Some. But now he found himself in the middle of what looked like a war zone.
Then it hit him that if Sandy was in that massive bonfire, his heart would break once again.
He was pushed back by a wall of heat as the front of the structure collapsed in on itself. Everything was burning. The place had been rigged to be totally destroyed if disturbed.
He heard the pop and searing of the wood push through the empty numbness of his ears. He could make out the muffled sound of a fire truck coming down the drive. The driver swung it wide, rolling through the shrubbery along the path, to spin it around so he could back closer.
Behind the fire unit was the ambulance. They followed, stopping short of the walkway. Jim’s vision blurred as two men and a woman filed out, large plastic cases containing all manner of medical equipment in tow. Ava would be fine.
Behind them were three black SUVs. Backup. At last.
Jim felt a little wobbly. The female medic stopped by his side and tried to steady him.
“I’m good.”
She pointed at the grass and pushed him into a seated position. Seemed reasonable. He let his legs give way; she eased him down. “Anything hurt, sir?”
“I couldn’t hear.”
“Explosion?”
Jim didn’t say anything, just gave her a small nod.
She shouted, “Common. Should return fairly fast unless there’s damage.” She looked in his ear but didn’t make any proclamation as to the future health of his eardrums. “Anywhere else hurt?”
“I just had a piece of wood fall on my leg. It’s okay.”
Without permission she cut straight up his pant leg, all the way to the knee, and yanked it open. There was a large round area that was trying to start a bruise already.
She felt around the wound. “Nothing feels broken.” She checked his eyes and had him follow the path of her moving thumb a few times before she left him to go see if the others needed help.
The firemen worked in a choreographed dance with water and time to put out the flames. Jim watched for longer than he intended and then got up to go check on Ava.
56
Agents, cops, and firemen were scattered over the lawn like ants. The house had burned hot and fast. His hearing came back in increments. The last guy Jim spoke to figured there was a large amount of accelerant expelled during the explosion. No one there was a bomb specialist, but that much was obvious.
He sat beside Ava on the tailgate of the fire marshal’s truck, drinking off-brand bottled water and waiting as the crew searched the smoldering structure for any remains. Jim’s gut told him Sandy and Dan were not in there.
Neither of them had spoken for a few minutes, both staring at the remains of the house.
Agents had found two other triggers. The bomb could have been set off from the front porch or a trigger by the pond. The entire property had been booby-trapped.
“That was close, Agent Webb.”
She let out a little laugh. Her hair was free and dangling in her face. Mud drenched her white shirt. She’d lost one of her shoes. “Again, I think you can call me Ava. After all, you saved my life.”
Jim said nothing. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being on a first-name basis with her. He’d been calling her by her given name in his mind since the scene at the house. Out loud was another matter. She was strong, beautiful.
He took another drink of water. It was good. Soothing.
“Now what? Where would she take them?” She shoved her hair back again. It seemed to irritate her.
“Why not cut it off?”
“Cut what off?” She didn’t look at him. Just watched the men moving around with hoses and long pry bars.
“If your hair bothers you, why not cut it off?” Easy enough. He liked it, but he could understand why a woman in her position would keep it short.
She looked down at her hands. “I don’t want to come off too mannish at the office. I have enough trouble because of my job as it is.”
“Trouble?”
“Never mind, Bean.” She stood. The paramedic rushed over.
“You need to sit, ma’am. I wish you’d let us transport you. That’s a bad dislocation.” He’d iced and wrapped it but didn’t have the skills—or the pain meds—to reset the joint. Agent Webb—Ava—had refused to go to the hospital until she was sure no one was in that house.
One of her agents approached. “For you.” He held out the phone to Jim.
“Hello?”
“Hey, my man. Hear you’re having a blast up there.”
Ely always had a way with words. “Not funny.”
“You guys okay?”
“Head hurts. Ava has a few cuts and a dislocated shoulder.”
“Ava? Must be getting cozy.”
“Shut up. What do you have?”
“Well, I think I know where she might be going.”
Jim straightened. Ava turned her attention away from her agent and was obviously eavesdropping. He held the phone out some so she could hear.
“There’s one little cross-reference from a car sale. Elizabeth Stanton sold a 2009 Toyota and traded it in on a cargo van. One like the caterers and shit use. The dealer remembered the picture I sent him because the woman said she was buying the van for her aunt. She insisted the title be put in the name Eloise Fowler.”
He looked at Ava. “That name ring any bells for you?”
“None.”
Ely broke back in. “It shouldn’t. Eloise Fowler was a single woman, no kids, who died in a car accident four years ago. But I found where she got a ticket driving from California to Nevada last week.”
Ava stood, holding her arm, and looked at her guy. “You find any of this?”
He shook his head.
“You have an address, Ely?” she shouted a little too loud at the phone.
“Why yes, I do, Miss Lady Fed. And for you, I have one other little treat.”
“You do?”
“I found an online veterinary medical distribution. I called and said I was working for Dr. Eloise Fowler and needed some ketamine. That I didn’t have my account log in. They wouldn’t let me order, of course, but I managed to find out they sent a large shipment just last month to …”
This had to be where she went. It was her drop location. It may not have been her first choice, but Sophie had been numerous places. “Where is she?”
“Knoblesville, Indiana.”
“Text the address to this phone.” Ava was still loud talking. Evidently, her hearing wasn’t all the way back.
“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am!” The phone dinged. The text was there.
“Nice work,” she said. “If you ever need a job, give me a ring.”
“Already did my civic duty, ma’am. I like my … recreational activities way too much for government work.”
Jim
laughed. “You have Annie?”
“I do, indeed. She’s sleeping on the eagle as we speak.”
“Eagle?” Ava asked.
Jim eased off the tailgate. “Ely has some rather impressive hanging sculptures in his place. Annie likes them.”
Into the phone she said, “Later, Ely. Let me know if you find anything else.”
Jim paced away. “Sophie changed her plans. Why?”
“We got too close. This was her plan. To make a perfect home for Dan. She got spooked, took the waitress, and changed her destination. She’s unprepared. Probably angry. My bet is Dan’s not going along with her scheme. She’s going to get off-balanced in a hurry.”
“As if she’s not now.” Jim paced back.
“She’s been calm and collected for years. Her killings had been planned or at least convenient. Now she’s running. I bet she never considered what to do if we caught onto her. Psychopaths assume they are correct, even justified in everything they do. They have no respect for the police. Or you. Probably picked you because she thought you weren’t capable of figuring her out—no offense. Now that we’ve tracked her, she’s got to be in a panic. Or worse.”
“That makes her even more dangerous.” Jim thought of Cynthia Hodge, disfigured and dumped. The dead agent on the back porch of the safe house without a face. A limp Lynette Hodge in Stephen’s arms. He didn’t want to think of Sandy and Dan stuck with Sophie Evers as she fell apart.
And again, all because he’d found Dan for her. Fuck, he wished he hadn’t taken this job.
Jim looked at the young agent standing beside Ava. “Can you get us a ride to Indiana?”
He didn’t answer. Just looked over at Ava.
“Do it.”
57
Jim eased back in his seat. They should be getting close to the small town where they believed Sophie was holed up. Locals had done a drive by and someone was in the house. That’s all they were asked to do.
The fruity smell of the Tahoe made his stomach turn. He was in the back seat. Maybe this had been a K-9 unit at some point. He couldn’t narrow down the offending scent. Using stinky shit to cover the smell of stinky shit confused him. The vehicle was thick with the strawberry perfume. And not the fresh-picked strawberries like mom puts on shortcake kind of smell. No. It was the medicine-ish, kid’s cough syrup kind of strawberry.
Ava’s face was pale. A military medic on the plane had popped her arm back into the proper position. It had to hurt like a motherfucker. She now had a brace, a better sling, and a little pain medication. She’d refused anything stronger.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m the agent in charge, or have you forgotten?”
“Wow. Um, no, I have not. I was just worried—”
“Don’t worry.”
He looked out the window. A light rain. Clouds. That was good. Made it darker. Easier to sneak up. Of course, a SWAT team would be doing that.
It churned his gut being so out of control. What if they fucked it up and Sandy was hurt? But no one was concerned about his worries. They were all following some book on tactical and hostage situations. Jim wanted to follow his gut, go in there and strangle that bitch with his bare hands.
They pulled up into the parking lot of a long-ago closed gas station. How a gas station went out of business with the price per gallon so high, he’d never know. There were several police units, five FBI cars, and a tactical van there.
Ava climbed out gingerly and addressed the officer in charge of the Knoblesville police.
Jim hung back. She’d told him pretty clearly that she was in charge from here on out. He leaned against a police car and watched. Still within earshot, of course. The house was a doublewide, north of town. At least fifteen yards from any other structure.
“Well, brother. Looks like Lady Fed doesn’t need the likes of us any longer.” Double O strolled up and leaned on the car right next to Jim.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He shrugged, put a toothpick in his mouth like a lollipop. “Was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”
“The neighborhood?”
He shrugged, lit a cig, and handed it to Jim. He needed it. The nicotine wouldn’t ease his problems, but it sure made them easier to swallow.
“Ely called. I was at the airport, changed flights.” It was good to have one person he could depend on. “The SWAT team decided to wait until full dark to go in.”
“Great idea. As long as you aren’t being held hostage by a maniac,” Jim muttered.
“Look at that. Fifteen cops, at least that many agents.” O spit out the toothpick. “The crazy bitch will see all that coming a mile away. She was smart enough to booby trap the house in Cali, she’ll have done the same thing here.” O situated his jeans by pulling up then down on the waistband. “You know, a couple smart guys could probably get in there quieter and easier than that big SWAT team.”
“You think?”
“I do.
“Rental’s back there.” O motioned behind the mess of official vehicles. “Got GPS and the address.”
Ava would kill Jim if they moved in first and messed up her perfectly planned rescue. Only, her plan left one thing to be desired: the element of surprise. Sophie Ryan Evers had time to prepare for it.
“Let’s go.”
58
“Oh my, but you do looked pissed.”
The waitress had been awake a while. She’d screamed her fool head off for about an hour. Now she was quiet, her red-rimmed eyes hard. Her cheeks flushed with fear that Sophie guessed was quickly turning to anger. She didn’t want the child to be resistant; she wanted her crying and pleading.
The girl didn’t answer.
“I’ll be killing you soon enough, no need to be getting yourself all worked up. I just need to make sure your friend doesn’t show up and try to ruin all my plans.”
She looked confused, but still didn’t speak. Sophie hadn’t asked her a question, had she?
“You hungry?”
She paled. So much ketamine would have been rough on her. Puke bucket Sophie had left nearby was half full as it was. She shook her head but still didn’t speak.
“You have a bad-ass hangover, girl. You should sleep that off.”
“How long?” Her voice was very scratchy, hoarse.
“Ah. No wonder you weren’t speaking.” Sophie had added it up on the way here. She’d kept the poor girl out for almost two days. She was surprised the girl survived even though Sophie had tried to keep the doses weak enough to keep her alive but strong enough to render her incoherent. “A long time. Too long. Your head will hurt and your stomach for a while. But I figure you’ll be dead before you feel better, so you sure you don’t want some food?”
Her bound hands shook in her lap as she sat on an old cot, her back against raw boards.
Dan was up at the trailer. Sophie had brought the girl out to the shed so Dan wouldn’t hear her. Didn’t want him distracted. He was stirring as well and she wanted to be there when he was in that twilight stage so she could give him just the right amount of the shit to make him accommodating.
You should have him kill the girl. Make an official bonding between you two. A marriage of sorts.
“Shut up.”
The waitress looked confused again, but if she refused food, what the fuck? Less work for Sophie.
Seriously, if he kills her when he’s under the influence, then he’ll be better off staying with you because you can keep him away from the law. It’s what you do.
It could work. He could use her blade.
Dan was moving a little bit when she got back inside. Trying out his legs, his fingers, but his eyes were still closed. That last dose had been a big one. It was all she’d had in the van. But she’d stored a good bit of the ketamine in the dreary kitchen of this shitty tr
ailer. She’d used it as a warehouse of sorts, only coming here to restock. The neighbors thought Eloise dead, her relatives fighting over the land.
Pffft. The land wasn’t worth a shit. It stunk. The thirty-year-old trailer was moldy. She’d passed herself off as a realtor and asked them to call her if they saw anyone hanging around. Now she was the one hanging around.
“What are you doing, Soph?” Dan’s eyes didn’t open.
Her heart stopped for an instant. He was still calling her Soph. Maybe … She was afraid to think of maybe. “Getting you some water.”
His eyes opened. “Where are we?”
“Indiana.”
He sat up, pausing to realize his leg was shackled to the bed and his hands were still bound. She helped him up then handed him the water.
He wiggled his foot. “Why am I tied up?”
She shrugged. This wasn’t going too easy. She’d expected yelling. But his head probably hurt too much.
“You need to be this way to start. You’ll see soon. You’ll want to be here and … Then I can untie you.”
“I need to piss.”
Cowboys. She pushed an empty paint can closer to him.
“Really?”
“It’s the best I have. This is not where I wanted us to start up, Danny. I had the perfect spot in the mountains, a little lake. It was magical.”
“What happened to it?”
Rage filled her again. She needed to move. She got up and walked to the door and leaned on it. “That private eye. He found us. Well, it. He got there first. It’s gone.” Her belly knotted at the thought. “I hope he burned up with it.”
Dan just nodded. He didn’t look upset. He wasn’t happy either. He was just there.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel like I drank all the beer in Austin last night.”
She couldn’t help a hint of a giggle. The last time she giggled was when she was a kid. “I, um … I want us to be … ”
“Happy?”