by Regina Duke
He took it and shoved it in his back pocket. His other hand was still holding hers beyond the fence.
“Now give me mine.”
“For your wallet.”
“What!? Are you such a bastard you would try to rob me here in the daylight with people walking by?” She caught the attention of a middle-aged couple headed for the lodge. “Can you believe this moron? He’s threatening to toss my pictures in the canyon if I don’t give him my wallet.”
“Do you want us to get a ranger?” asked the woman.
DaSilva was suddenly all smiles, patting the air with his hands. “Okay, okay, honey, you got me. I’m sorry I said your mother drives me crazy. Forgive me?”
The middle-aged man took his wife by the arm and steered her away. “They’re just arguing,” he muttered.
Terri stood open-mouthed in disbelief.
DaSilva’s smile faded to a menacing sneer. “See? People are stupid. Just like you. No wallet, no photos.” He tossed the envelope over the fence. It landed a foot from the edge of the canyon.
“You son of a bitch!” Terri gripped the handles of her tote bag in one hand and used the other to swing herself over the fence. Just as she straddled the top and was calculating where to put her feet for the safest landing, DaSilva shoved her hard and tried to grab her tote bag.
Terri flew off the fence sideways but did not let go of the tote bag. She landed hard on one hip. She rolled with the fall and pulled her feet under her but when she went to stand up, the earth was gone, and she felt herself slipping over the edge.
A scream sounded in the air. Only later did she realize it was her. She flailed with the hand holding the tote bag and it caught around the trunk of a sapling. She grabbed it with her other hand and stopped her slide, but her feet were still dangling over the edge. She kicked out to the right and managed to get one foot up on top of the envelope with Reggie’s pictures in it. With a mighty effort, she shoved the envelope closer to the fence.
At that moment, the sapling began to tear loose from its roots. With one foot on the rim and the other still scrabbling for purchase against the edge, Terri’s heart pounded with the realization that she was about to die at the Grand Canyon, by falling into it.
Then a strong hand grabbed her wrist and began pulling her up. A moment later, she was safe in Russ’s arms, and a gathering of tourists was applauding his rescue.
Russ planted her arms around the top of the safety railing, then he took two careful steps and retrieved the envelope of photos before he helped her climb back over the rail. Once on the safe side, he began running his hands over her face and body.
“Are you all right? Are you okay? What were you thinking? What were doing out there? Terri, that was a crazy thing to do!”
Terri was shaking. “Take me back to the cabin,” she said.
“Do you need a doctor?”
“I need a drink,” she said. “Get me out of here.”
A female tourist said, “I’ll get a ranger.”
“No need,” said Terri. “I’m safe now. Thanks.”
A male tourist clapped Russ on the shoulder. “Good save, young fellow. If that was my wife, I’d keep a close eye on her.”
Russ nodded. “I’ll do that.” He pulled Terri under one arm and began walking her back to the cabin.
“Did you see him?” asked Terri.
“See who?”
“You didn’t see him?! It was DaSilva! He pushed me over the rail!”
Russ glanced around. “There’s no sign of him now. Do you want to report this to the rangers?”
“No, I want to go clean up. I want a stiff drink of something alcoholic. And I want to scratch that son of a bitch’s eyes out.” She was trembling violently.
“You have some meds in that bag, right? What are they for?”
Terri didn’t answer. She just kept babbling. “He demanded my wallet in broad daylight. Then he tossed Reggie’s photos over the fence, and when I tried to retrieve them, he pushed me hard so I would fall off the ledge.”
“What are your meds for?” he asked again.
Terri gestured with one hand. It shook uncontrollably and she pulled it close to her chest. “It’s diazepam,” she said. “When I told Gavin he had to move out of my house, he pulled a lot of nasty tricks. I was having anxiety attacks. My doctor prescribed diazepam. I always keep it with me.” Her brain leaped back to the scene with DaSilva. “Those people wouldn’t believe me. It was like my needs were invisible. Just like with Gavin. Why am I shaking like this?”
“Adrenaline. Just keep talking,” said Russ. “We’ll be at the cabin in a minute. What made you take off without me?”
“I thought the note was from Gavin. I wasn’t thinking straight. He sent a picture of Reggie. I thought it was from Gavin.”
By now, Russ was half carrying her. Her knees wobbled beneath her.
Inside the cabin at last, he deposited her on a chair by the table. “Do you want to lie down?”
“You’re a bounty hunter. Don’t you guys drink hard liquor?” Terri was hugging herself, suddenly cold. She still hadn’t let go of her tote bag.
Russ dug through his luggage and returned with a fifth of Jim Beam. He twisted the top off and held it to her lips. “Take a swig of this.”
Terri did. “Ick, it’s awful.” She made a face. “Give me more.”
Russ placed the bottle in her hands. When he felt she could lift it unassisted, he gently pried the tote bag loose and found her bottle of diazepam. He poured out two pills. “Take these.”
“With the whiskey?”
“You’re a long way from a lethal dose. Just take them.”
Terri did as he told her. Meanwhile, he took a quilt off her bed and draped it around her. He moved the other chair up close and sat in front of her. He pulled the packet of Reggie photos out of his back pocket. “I saved these for you.”
Terri took the photos and hugged them to her heart with one hand.
“Have another drink. I can get more if we need it.”
Terri was shaking so hard, her teeth were chattering.
Russ smoothed her hair and caressed her cheek with the back of one hand. “You could have been killed.”
“I, I, I know.” Swig.
“I thought you said you took self defense classes.” His voice was gentle, almost a lullaby.
Terri whispered, “I flunked.” Swig.
“I didn’t hear that.”
She spoke louder. “I flunked out. They wouldn’t even give me the stupid certificate that said I took the class.”
“How can you flunk self defense?” Russ tipped the bottom of the bottle up so she had to take another drink.
Terri swallowed and answered. “I was afraid to hurt anybody. I couldn’t hit the instructor hard enough for him to even notice. He said he couldn’t let me leave thinking I was ready to defend myself, so he wouldn’t sign my stupid certificate.” With every drink, she was sounding younger and younger.
“Well, you don’t need another piece of paper. Your instructor was a jerk. When you’re feeling better, I’ll give you private lessons, okay?”
“‘Kay.” Her eyes were wet and her features crumpled and she cried like a little girl.
Russ leaned forward and held her in his arms. “It’s okay, Terri. I’m here. I’ll take care of everything. Okay?”
“‘Kay,” she whispered. “Sorry.”
Russ used one thumb to wipe away her tears. Then he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her nose. “No problem.”
“Can we eat in tonight?” Her eyes were drooping, but she wasn’t shivering anymore.
“You bet.”
“Maybe something simple,” she murmured. “A salad or…”
Russ let her head lean against his shoulder. After a few moments, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to her bed. She was out like a light. He kept talking as if she could hear him.
“Sure. Something light.” He tucked her in. Then he pushed a chair under the door handle and clo
sed all the windows and shades. He retrieved the whiskey and the bag of junk food that Tony had delivered earlier. He took a sip of whiskey and settled on the bed next to Terri. He lay his hand gun on his lap and dug in the bag for a Snickers. He peeled the paper off and murmured, “We’ll eat in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TERRI SLEPT until six p.m. when Russ gently shook her arm. “Wake up, sleepyhead. There’s a fax for me at the lodge.”
“Hmmm? Time is it?” She was groggy from Valium and whiskey.
“A little after six. You fell asleep. You must be starved. Let’s go get my fax and we’ll have a hot dog at the cafeteria.”
Terri’s mind began to clear. The memory of her brush with death destroyed the fuzzy calm she woke up with. She sat up abruptly.
“Ouch. Everything hurts. Oh, God, look at me! I’m all dirty and, ick, look at that scratch on my leg.”
Russ was gathering clean clothes from her bag. “I think these jeans are the dress code for the evening. And here’s a lovely V-neck tee. Not Dior, but certain to win the hearts of Canyon-goers all through the park.” He made some fancy display moves and mimicked an overly eager Broadway fashion designer. His eyes twinkled.
Terri put up a hand. “Stop! You do that way too well. Let’s go back to bounty-hunter voice.”
Russ laughed. “I’ve got my first aid kit out. Let me doctor that scratch before you change.” He began cleaning the abrasions on her leg and found the need to keep talking so he wouldn’t let his mind wander into dangerous territory. “By the way, I’m setting a new ground rule. The next time you get a note, you must stop, do not pass go, come directly to me, and let me decide what action we should take. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” She tried a mock salute, but it was ruined by a sharp inhale as he touched the ugliest part of the wound.
“It’s not deep,” he said softly, “but we’ll put this antibiotic gel on there to keep you safe from marauding germs. And I’ll use a couple of these pads over the worst parts, so you don’t dry up and stick to your jeans.”
Terri pulled a Scarlett O’Hara voice out of her bag of impressions. “Why, suh, you amaze me with your keen medical knowledge and your concern for little ol’ me. As for maraudin’ germs, well, I’ll think about that tomorrow.”
Russ grinned at her. “You’re feeling better.”
“I’ll go change,” said Terri. “And I’ll check the towels for more hidden notes.”
Twenty minutes later, fax in hand, they headed for the cafeteria. It was a no-frills dining experience, but it was full of people and no one was likely to hurl Terri over a precipice in such company. They found a table by the wall. Russ moved their chairs together so they could read the fax.
Terri frowned at the page. “It’s in code!”
“Not quite,” said Russ. “It’s more like shorthand. Sara didn’t want the office staff to know who she was talking about.” He read aloud. “Russ: Vet’s name in paper last Saturday, July 9, re: burglary at office, drugs and artwork taken.” He paused and asked Terri, “Drugs taken. Does that happen a lot in the veterinary world?”
Terri squirted catsup on her hot dog. “Oh, sure, more than we like to think about. A veterinarian’s office has all kinds of barbiturates, sodium pentothal, tranquilizers, and lots of other stuff. They’re all locked up, but that wouldn’t stop someone who had already broken into the building.”
“So it was a drug-related burglary.”
Terri held up a finger. “Or, it could be that Dr. Nething samples his own products but didn’t want to confess that to the police.”
“No kidding?”
“It’s a serious problem,” said Terri. “The newsletters of the state boards of veterinary medicine actually report on vets who’ve been fined or censured for substance abuse, substandard care, and other violations. In almost every issue there are vets who are in trouble with substance abuse and those are just the ones who are caught and reported.”
“So the break-in might still be related to Chad’s drawings.” He kept reading. “Vet remembered GSD you asked about. Dropped off by woman as sick stray. X-ray revealed foreign object. Surgery, removed object, wouldn’t specify. Got very vague. Two days later, man came to claim dog, seriously angry about surgery, left without dog. Vet called rescue org. Re: courthouse, paid parking ticket. Re: J, 4/20 to 5/2, in for DUI. Re: TG and WO, no red flags. Artwork: dogs, pugs, terriers, no GSDs, no faces from courthouse. Vet says those were stolen.” He folded the paper and tucked it in a pocket so he could eat his hot dog.
Terri wiped mustard off her mouth. “So, what did the vet take out of the dog?”
Russ chewed thoughtfully. “Good question. I think we should ask our artist friend about that, don’t you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RUSS STRODE purposefully through the woods toward the employee cabins.
Terri matched him stride for stride. “What if he’s working?”
“Then he’s surrounded by people and he’s safe. If he’s in his cabin alone, he’s not. He has something DaSilva wants. That’s why DaSilva nearly killed you to get his photos back, so he could be sure of what Chad looked like. I told you those surveillance photos reminded me of a target, right? Whatever Chad has, I’d bet money his father took it out of that dog. I’m guessing that either DaSilva himself or his playmate Jiggy went to pick up the dog. They’re probably in a mess of trouble for losing it.”
Terri nodded. “I saw a TV show about smugglers once and they were putting drugs in dogs and moving them across the border. If that’s the case, and DaSilva messed up a delivery, he’s desperate to get it back.”
“Desperate enough to kill,” said Russ. He shook his head sadly. “I’m really pissed that they used a dog. Would they need a veterinarian to put that flask inside?”
“Probably not,” said Terri. “I can’t imagine a decent vet doing such a thing. Someone in pre-med or someone with anatomy class experience and no soul could have done it.” She shuddered at her next thought. “Or a vet tech.”
“I agree,” said Russ. “If we find who is responsible for all this, we’ll find out who did the unauthorized surgery. As for drugs being in the container, Chad doesn’t strike me as a user. He’s clean cut, he holds down a job. It might not have been drugs in the dog. Whatever it was, I think Chad helped himself to it. And now DaSilva’s after him.”
They reached the door of Chad’s cabin, and Russ knocked hard. The door moved. Russ pushed and it swung open. Inside was a scene out of a movie.
Everything was tossed. Drawers were upside down on the floor. The bed covers and mattresses were scattered about. The clothes from the doorless closet were strewn here and there, pockets pulled inside out. The bathroom cabinet door was open and toiletries were on the floor.
Russ checked quickly to make sure Chad wasn’t under the mess. Then he ushered Terri outside. “I think Chad’s roommate is going to be pissed,” he said, calmly.
“What now?” asked Terri. “Do you think they found what they were looking for?”
Russ shook his head. “My instincts say no.”
“How can you tell?”
Russ took her hand and pulled her along toward the lodge. “What do you do when you find something you’ve been looking for?”
Terri shrugged. “I stop looking.”
“Exactly. They didn’t stop. They looked everywhere, in everything. I don’t think they found it. If they had, they would have quit looking and something in the room might have been left untouched.”
“Good thinking,” said Terri. “Where are we going?”
“We need to find Chad and keep an eye on him until we can talk to him again.”
“How late do they serve dinner?”
“I think they seat until nine p.m. So hopefully he’ll be done by ten.”
“Or maybe earlier,” said Terri. “Isn’t that Chad coming out of the lodge now?”
It was definitely Chad, dressed for work, but heading toward them. When he caught sight of them,
he veered away.
“Chad, wait up.” They caught him passing the cafeteria. “Mind if we talk for a minute? It’s important.”
Chad didn’t look thrilled to see them again. “Look, I’m in a hurry. Something’s come up.”
Russ’s voice hardened. “Oh, yeah? Well, if DaSilva finds you before we catch him, you could be late for the rest of your life. As in dead.”
Chad paled. “You saw him? He’s here?”
“He tried to throw Terri over the edge of the Canyon. He’s definitely here.”
“Okay, okay. Fine.” Chad couldn’t seem to figure out where to put his hands. “But let’s keep walking. My roommate just told me our place was broken into. I want to check it out.”
“We’ll go with you,” said Russ, not bothering to mention they already knew about the break-in.
Terri noted that there were still no questions about who DaSilva was or why he might be after Chad.
Russ decided to use the direct approach. “What did you do with it, Chad?”
For a moment, Chad’s face revealed his guilt so plainly that Terri almost laughed. Instead, she shifted her tote bag to the other shoulder and looked away. Chad tried to cover up, but he was a lousy liar.
“Do with what?”
“What your dad took out of that poor dog,” said Terri.
Chad looked resigned. “Is that why you’re here? Hey, look, I thought it was empty, okay? I just liked the look of it. The size and everything, it looked perfect for charcoals.” His eyes were looking for something to settle on, giving even less credence to his claim.
Russ lowered his voice. “I’m sure it was empty, Chad, after you took out whatever was inside. Whatever it was, I hope it was worth your life, because that’s what DaSilva’s going to take if he doesn’t find that container in its original condition.”
Chad said, “Hey, look, I know it was stupid. I mean, I should have told my dad, but—”
Terri interrupted him. “Your dad didn’t open the container?”
“No, he just did the surgery. I was there, sketching the pugs. And the vet tech came in carrying this stainless steel container on a tray. It was about the size of a pack of smokes and looked like a high tech mini flask, you know? With a lid that pulled off. Perfect for charcoal. Keep it from getting all over the place. That’s all I was thinking when I took it.”