13. Under the Radar

by Fern Michaels

  “This is some spread,” Ted said as he leaned out the window, snapping picture after picture. “I can’t believe people actually choose to live like this, cut off from the world. No neighbors, no takeout, no drugstores, no bookmobile, and no one dropping over for coffee or a beer. Perfect hideout, though. Those spikes, though, that bothers the hell out of me. Law enforcement must know about them. I’m not trying to rain on anyone’s parade, but there are other ways to get to this place besides driving a vehicle. Like what my grandpa would have called ‘shanks’ mare’! Your own two feet,” he explained, seeing Jack’s puzzled look.

  Jack snorted at Ted’s words. “And you think the rest of this place isn’t booby-trapped? Hell, the guy probably has claymore mines all over the damn place. Or those snares up in the trees that drop and haul your ass right up into the foliage where you stay until he decides to let you down. I think old George, whoever the hell he is, had it going on here. Look, there’s Pearl by the barn door.”

  Jack cut the engine and climbed out of the SUV, followed by Harry and Ted. The first words out of Jack’s mouth were, “Jesus, Pearl, you look like hell. Are you okay?”

  “Thanks, Jack. Hell, no, I am not okay. I have to get out of this place. Come inside. Who knows what kind of long-distance listening devices might be trained on us.”

  Inside the massive barn, the three men looked around in awe. Pearl went over to the far wall of the barn, opened the electrical panel, and yanked at a lever. “The road is armed now.”

  She gave them a guided tour that took only five minutes. “Now you see why I have to try and protect this place. George is crucial to my operation. This is by far the best safe house/barn on my underground railroad route. Where’s Lizzie?”

  “Back in town, trying to get the lay of the land. It’s pretty dismal out here, Pearl.”

  “Nellie and Elias?”

  “I think they’re on their way and will meet up with Lizzie in the next few hours.”

  Pearl shook her head. Too many strangers in a small town, especially that small town, won’t be good. Strangers stood out like white elephants in a black room. “Any news on Myra and Charles? I’ve been trying to reach Annie and the girls but haven’t been able to make contact. With everyone unavailable, who’s running this operation?”

  “Maggie Spitzer.” Jack laughed. “And she’s doing a hell of a job, I have to say. I haven’t seen today’s edition, so if there’s a computer here, I’d like to hook up and check it out.”

  “George took it with him. This place has been sanitized.” Pearl held out her hands so the men could see her skintight latex gloves. “Don’t touch anything,” she warned. “There are some soft drinks in the refrigerator if you’re thirsty. A few boxes of crackers and such. Help yourself, but be sure to take the trash with you. Here,” she said, reaching into her pocket for spare gloves to hand out. “They’re surgical gloves, so they won’t be awkward on your hands. Just be careful not to rip them.”

  Ted popped three colas and distributed the gloves. “Tell us about the town of Sienna. I need to get a feel for it so I can report in to Maggie for tomorrow’s paper. Exactly how far is the Heaven on Earth compound from here?”

  Pearl took a mighty breath. “The compound is about twenty miles due east of where we’re standing. Population of Sienna is about eleven hundred, give or take a few. There are 650 houses, some of them farms. On some of the farms there are other houses where the off-spring live. There are a sheriff and two deputies. George says that ever since the death of his daughter they’ve left him alone. They think he’s a little off in the head. In other words, he doesn’t bother them, and they don’t bother him.

  “The town has a small police station: two rooms and a bath, and two cells for overnighters. There’s a general store that sells everything including groceries and medicines. It doubles as a post office. There’s one country doctor, who is also the dentist. God only knows if he’s licensed to do either. The sheriff is also the judge. George said he’s a lawyer, but since there was no lawyering business, he does other things. Then there is the rooming house with six rooms to let for any visitors who find their way here. According to George, visitors are not made welcome and aren’t treated very well. It’s pretty backward. Even for a small town, it’s not a happy place. Way too many secrets, according to George.

  “And before you can ask, the sheriff, the deputies, and the doctor are polygamists but live outside the compound. What that means is that whatever goes on at the HOE compound doesn’t make its way to the outside world. It all stops in Sienna.” Pearl stopped speaking and ran to the barn door. “It’s some kind of plane,” she shrilled.

  Jack grinned. “I think it’s your ride to safety, Pearl. It’s the girls, they’re coming in on crop dusters and you’re going out on one of them. And I can guarantee as soon as they land, the sheriff and his two deputies will be paying this little farm a visit.”

  “How much time do I have?”

  Jack craned his neck to see out one of the barn’s windows. “Five minutes, give or take a minute, depending on how fast you can run. Stay safe, hunker down till we give the all clear. That’s an order, Pearl.”

  Pearl nodded, and ran as fast as she could. She waved to Isabelle, who jumped out of the plane’s doorway. Strong hands reached down for Pearl. A second later she was gone from sight, and the crop duster was kicking up dry earth as it rocketed across the field and went airborne. The pilot dipped his right wing in a salute.

  Isabelle ran like the Hounds of Hell were on her heels. She literally fell into Jack’s arms. “Nikki is in the third plane. Kathryn lands next. Alexis is after Nikki. Then Yoko, and Annie is last. She insisted on being the last, captain of the ship or something like that.”

  Ted Robinson looked at the windburn on Isabelle’s face. He popped a cola for her and showed her where the bathroom was. He handed over a set of latex gloves, and said, “You know the drill. Don’t touch anything.”

  Isabelle downed the cola in two long gulps and asked for a second. Ted obliged just as the second crop duster came in for a landing. And then the third came in, followed by the fourth, then the fifth. Within fifteen minutes, all six planes were airborne and gone from sight. The only indication they had landed at all were huge bags of insecticide that had been dumped there in case anyone asked questions about six planes flying into the same location.

  The reunion was everything everyone wanted it to be. Nikki clung to Jack, her grip so fierce, he had trouble breathing. But he didn’t move. Harry just kept swinging Yoko around and around until he got dizzy. Alexis sat down in the middle of the floor and cried. With relief. Annie, full of spit and vinegar, looked around the barn and said that it wasn’t the Ritz, but she knew she could acclimate, and that she’d just had the most exhilarating experience of her life but she’d never want to do it again.

  “Report in, everyone,” Jack said. “I need an update. What’s going on? Any word from Myra and Charles?”

  The others groaned.

  “If you say one more word, Annie, I am going to kill you,” Kathryn said, glaring. She rolled over on the floor next to Alexis and pounded the floor. “God, we stink! Almost two whole days in the air! Has anyone heard from Bert?”

  Then they were all talking at once. Isabelle joined them, her wet hair slicked back, smelling of Johnson’s Baby Powder. She was wearing Irma Ellis’s clothing, and latex gloves. In one gloved hand was her third cola.

  “Move, ladies, we’re going to be having company soon,” Jack said. “There are four showers in each bathroom. Clothes are in the closet on the left. Make it snappy.” He looked down at Nikki, who was still clutching him so tight he was gasping. “You have to let up and hurry, babe, or you’re going to be left behind. I’ll be here when you get out.”

  “Promise,” Nikki said in a jittery voice.

  “I promise.”

  Nikki trotted after the others, but twice she turned around to look at Jack before she disappeared from view.

  Annie was unt
angling herself from the chair she was sitting on.

  “How bad was it?” Jack asked.

  “Bad. There’s no way you could handle it, Jack, so I’ll spare you the details.” Annie offered up a sloppy salute and wobbled down the hall to the bathroom.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Harry asked anxiously.

  In a voice little more than a croak, Jack said, “I think she meant wind, rain, turbulence, jets flying low coming in for landings, dust flying at them from all angles, that kind of thing. She’s right, you and I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. We would have been puking our guts out the windows. If crop dusters have windows, that is. You’re getting all glassy-eyed, Harry. They’re here. They’re safe. Jesus, can’t you hear them in there? They’re singing that song ‘Dancing Queen.’”

  Harry cocked his ear toward the hall leading to the bathrooms. Sure enough, the Sisters were singing, loud, off-key, and laughing like lunatics. In spite of himself, Harry laughed when Yoko’s voice blasted from the shower.

  “It’s her favorite song. She can’t sing worth a damn.”

  Jack’s foot tapped to the nonexistent rhythm. “That little whippersnapper can wipe up the floor with you, Harry. If they’d been in trouble, Yoko would have been dancing on the wing making sure the plane landed safely so she could get to you. And you worried about her! Why the hell do you think they’re singing that song in there? You’re so stupid, I don’t want anyone to know I know you.”

  “Yeah, Harry, you’re stupid,” Ted volunteered. “Even Maggie said you’re stupid.”

  “It’s okay, Ted, Harry is in love,” Jack said.

  “Yeah, well, so am I, but I know better than to let Maggie think I’m smarter than she is.”

  “Yeah, yeah, me, too.” Jack guffawed.

  “Both of you, eat shit,” Harry said.

  Jack and Ted laughed louder. Then they all suddenly noticed Isabelle on the floor. She was laughing so hard she had to hold her sides.

  “Listen, Isabelle, you aren’t going to…you know…” Ted stuttered.

  Isabelle’s head wobbled back and forth. “Your dumb-ass conversation is safe with me.” She went off into gales of laughter again as she, too, started singing the words to “Dancing Queen.”

  Ted’s sudden whoop of elation startled the others as they closed in around him.

  “Maggie scooped every paper in the country. Espinosa got a live interview with one of the departed followers of the HOE. She’s on the front page with before-and-after pictures. Espinosa has her in hiding at the Post’s apartment. The good stuff is above the fold. Like mine and Joe’s names. Man, it doesn’t get any better than this! Those slash-and-burn tactics of Maggie’s are really paying off. That was the good news. The bad news is the whole world is about to descend on this little town and that damn compound. Maggie is saying we don’t have a whole lot of time.”

  “I get that part about the time,” Jack said. “What I don’t get is what are we supposed to do now that we’re all here? Where the hell is our fearless leader, and what’s our game plan?”

  “I’m right here, Jack,” Annie said, coming up behind him. “Believe it or not, I do have a plan. Of sorts. Actually, it’s more of an idea than a plan. Considering our circumstances.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Isabelle said.

  “With the world’s media about to descend on the HOE, I think it would behoove all of us to get inside that compound before that happens. I’m sure with all that acreage out there, there have to be some hidden entry points. I’m just as sure there will be some kind of gate that opens and closes that would be under surveillance. We should do it as soon as it gets dark.”

  “We, as in the guys and us, or just us?” Kathryn asked.

  Annie sniffed. “I didn’t get that far in my planning.” “I think it’s an either/or. Bear in mind, we are only six, and there are a lot of people in that compound. We don’t know what kind of communications system they have. All of us,” she said, making a snap decision.

  Jack’s cell rang. His eyebrows shot upward as he mouthed the word “Bert.”

  “What’s up, Mr. Director of the FBI?” Jack listened, then he whirled around to look out the window to see if they were being invaded. “No shit! Okay, okay. Give me five minutes.”

  “Turn the grid off. Bert’s up at the end of the road with the two deputies from the sheriff’s office. I think it’s almost showtime.”

  Annie ran to the electric box to retract the dangerous spikes before she ran to the window where everyone else was clustered.

  At the end of the two-mile-long driveway, Bert Navarro was holding court. He stepped out of his rental Mustang, his FBI credentials in hand. The two deputies, creased and polished, looked at the ID Bert was holding.

  “Deputy Clyde Reeves, and this is my partner, Sam Nesbit. What can we do for the FBI today?”

  “For starters you can call in to the sheriff and ask him to join us, then you will do exactly what I tell you to do from that point on.”

  Nesbit appeared to be the bolder of the two. He was sloppy and beefy, which the creased uniform couldn’t hide. He was jowly, with a set of nicotine teeth and a dirty-looking mustache. “And why would we be doing something like that? We don’t take orders from strangers, FBI or not. In case you haven’t noticed, there are two of us and one of you.”

  Bert laughed as he thought about the brown belt Harry had presented to him the previous day. Or was it the day before? Not that it mattered. The brown belt said he could take these two within a minute and have time left over.

  Deputy Reeves suddenly looked uneasy. He looked over at Nesbit, who was suddenly looking everywhere but at him and Navarro, his bluster all but gone.

  “Call the sheriff.” Bert looked at his watch. “Siren blasting, ninety miles an hour, he should be here in about…four-and-one-half minutes. Tell him the FBI requests his presence immediately. Do it!”

  Reeves reached into the cruiser, pressed a button, listened a moment to the squawking on the other end, and delivered the message verbatim.

  “So, tell me, what are you two fine deputies doing way out here?”

  “Checking on George Ellis. Six or seven planes just landed back there, and we want to know what’s going on. A lot of strange things have been happening around here the past day or so. Found a man dead in a bus yesterday. Some woman kidnapped a bunch of young girls, then ran off with a couple of men on cycles. All leads point to this place. Sheriff asked us to investigate. What’s the FBI’s interest in this little place?”

  Bert looked at his watch again. He could hear a siren in the distance. “The thing about the FBI, Deputies, is, we ask questions, we don’t answer them. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, Mr. Director, I don’t. I don’t think Nesbit here does, either, but the sheriff might. He’s pretty prickly about people invading our little town.”

  “Really. The way I see it is this: If you aren’t doing anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about. The other thing is, I don’t personally give a shit what your boss thinks or feels. Now, if you want an experience from hell, I can deliver that with one phone call. All the resources of the Utah, Nevada, and Arizona FBI can be here within hours. You deputies outside members of the HOE?”

  Both deputies looked off into the distance. Bert had his answer.

  Thirteen seconds later, a cruiser pulled into the rocky driveway. A tall man who looked exactly like Clint Eastwood when he was fifty stepped out of the car. He reached back into the car to turn off the siren and flashing light.

  “Sheriff Ron Finn,” the sheriff said, holding out his hand.

  Bert gripped the man’s hand in a viselike grip and enjoyed the pain he saw in the other man’s eyes.

  “What brings the FBI to this sleepy, off-the-map little town?”

  “Like I told your two deputies here, Sheriff, the FBI does not answer questions, we ask them. Being in law enforcement, I’m sure you know the FBI takes precedence, so whatever you and your people are do
ing here at this farm has to cease now. The Bureau is stepping in. But in the interests of fairness to you and your two men here, I will allow you to follow me down this road so that you can see we’re serious about all of this. Before we head that way, are you an outside member of the HOE?”

  The sheriff’s face closed tight. All signs of affability disappeared. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “I guess you weren’t listening, Sheriff. I said the FBI doesn’t answer questions, we ask them. I’ll ask you again. Are you an outside member of the HOE? Your deputies here declined to answer the question when I asked them a few minutes ago. I’m waiting.”

  The sheriff didn’t look so much like Clint Eastwood at that moment. His eyes narrowed, and his hand went to the gun at his hip. Bert’s foot lashed out faster than the breeze that rippled through the scraggly trees, and Sheriff Finn was staring up at the last of the afternoon sun and Bert’s foot, which was hovering about twelve inches above his face. Reeves licked at his lips as Nesbit smirked.

  “You want me to ask again, or do you want to volunteer the answer?”

  The Clint Eastwood lookalike said, “My religious affiliation is none of your goddamn business. I don’t give a damn if you’re the FBI or not. That goes for my men, too.”

  Bert cocked his head to the side, looked at both deputies, who looked away, then down at the man on the ground. Bert’s foot was steady, with no sign of a tremor. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” His foot moved then and came down, not on the sheriff’s face, but on his shoulder. The sound of crunching bone was so loud even Bert flinched as he whirled around, and with two quick jabs, both deputies were lying next to their boss. Oh, Harry, if you could see me now, you’d be so proud of me, you’d bust wide-open.

  Bert laughed at his own wit. “You just don’t mess with the FBI, guys. I was nice, I was polite, just the way the manual tells me to be. This is the result.”

  Bert reached down and hauled Nesbit to his feet. “Put your boss in his cruiser and drive down that road. Reeves, you drive the other cruiser.”