by Jeff Shelby
“Is he running for you?” I asked.
She didn't answer.
“Dealing for you?”
No answer.
“Or is he caretaking the plants?” I asked. “Comes up here on the weekends, checks on them, waters, does whatever's needed? Kind of a go-between?”
The silence was maddening.
“Look, you knew his name because I never said it,” I said. “Your pal Nick was blatant about it. I've got a skeleton picture of what's going on here. But you better be clear on one thing: Neither my daughter or I are involved, and if we get to wherever you're taking us and they start targeting her?” I looked over my shoulder. “It won't end well for you.”
We took several more steps, the sand and gravel crunching beneath our feet.
“You sound pretty confident for a guy without a gun,” she said. Her voice was still low, still barely a whisper. “You sure you can back that up?”
“You have no idea.”
“Who the hell is talking back there?” Nick called from the front of the line.
“Just someone asking stupid questions,” Jillian yelled back.
“If he opens his mouth again, put one in his leg so he really has something to talk about.”
“Keep quiet,” she muttered, then much louder, “Already told him.”
I did as she said and didn't say anything else.
But I hoped she was taking me seriously.
Because she really didn't have any idea what I'd do to protect Elizabeth.
NINETEEN
Twenty minutes later, we were at the bottom of the canyon.
Rain pounded the hillside behind us, but hadn't yet reached where we were. But the air smelled like wet copper and I knew it wasn't far away. The air was sticky and the water was just waiting to fall out of it.
We hiked along the bottom edge of the canyon and into a dense thicket of trees. Within minutes, we cleared them and a fairly large log cabin emerged. It looked like it was straight out of a magazine, with honey-stained logs, a wraparound deck, a paved driveway, and vast expanses of windows. I wasn't sure where I thought they would be taking us, but I hadn't expected to see something that looked like someone's vacation house.
“Keep them here,” Nick said. “I'll be right back.”
Jillian nodded and he hopped up the steps to the deck and disappeared inside the house.
Elizabeth leaned into me. “What's happening? What's he doing?”
I put my arm around her. “I don't know. We'll be fine.” I looked at Jillian. “Now's your chance. Let us go. Keep us here any longer and it is going to blow up in your face.”
She was still holding the gun, but the barrel was pointed more at the ground than at anyone in particular. It felt less threatening, but I wasn’t going to let my guard down or interpret it as anything other than a slip on her part. She’d hauled that thing through the canyon for almost an hour, positioned and ready to fire.
“Making threats is a bad idea,” she said quietly. “It won't work here. Keep your voice down.”
“Keeping us here is a bad idea,” I said. I knew I sounded like a broken record, but maybe if she heard it enough times, it would sink in. “Let us go. We overtook you and ran off—it’s an easy enough story. I'll throw the gun behind the house and you can get it back. But he's not gonna be in there long. Be smart.”
“I can't let you go,” she said, watching the front door. “When we go in, stay quiet. Tell the same story you told us up there. Be honest.” She cut her eyes to me. “Don't start making threats you can't back up.”
“Thinking I can't back them up is a mistake on your part,” I told her.
A corner of her mouth twitched, inching upward. “And thinking I can't handle them would be a mistake on yours.”
“What's going to happen to us?” Tim asked, his voice shaky. His skin was still the color of chalk and he looked like he was ready to pass out. He turned wild eyes to the woman with the gun. “And why are you looking for Aaron?”
“You'll be fine,” Jillian said, her tone gentling a bit. Her expression was neutral, betraying no emotion, but her eyes, like her voice, had softened. “Just stay quiet and be honest. I’ll get you out.”
Her last words were encouraging. And puzzling. “Who are you?” I asked. “You aren't part of this or you'd be acting like your partner.”
She raised the barrel back up in my direction. “Assuming you know anything about me would be a bad decision on your part.” She stared at me for a long moment. “Just keep pretending you're some normal suburban dad who has no idea what's going on and it'll go okay.”
I started to say something, then stopped, considering her words. The word “pretending” seemed to indicate something other than just telling me to shut up.
“Don't try to be a hero,” she said. “You'll do more harm than good. Just relax a little and you'll be fine. Don't make it worse.”
“I don't relax when I'm being held hostage,” I told her.
Her eyebrows lifted. “So you've been held hostage before?”
I didn't answer the question. I wasn’t giving her information.
“What about Aaron?” Elizabeth asked quietly. Her hair had loosened from her ponytail and spider web-like wisps stuck to her flushed cheeks. “Where is he?”
“I don't know,” Jillian said. Her eyes changed again, and this time she looked almost sympathetic. “If I did, you probably wouldn't be here.” A frown creased her features. “And you really don't want to bring him up when we go inside. Just let him go.”
Elizabeth's shoulders fell. I knew she was focusing on her boyfriend and what he'd gotten himself into. I couldn't blame her. But I also knew that what Jillian was saying was probably correct. The more distance we could put between Aaron and us, the better our chances would be of leaving sooner rather than later.
“You're sure you aren't tied into this?” Jillian asked.
I started to say something, then realized she was looking at Tim.
Tim's eyes got wider. “No. I have no idea what this is. I swear to god.”
“Because if we go in there and something comes out and you're partnered with Aaron or something like that…” She shook her head, her tight ponytail swinging from side to side. “I'm not gonna be able to help you.”
“I swear I don't know anything.” Tim’s panicked voice pitched an octave higher. “He said we were going camping. He didn't tell me anything. That was it.”
She kept her eyes on him for a moment before shifting them back to the front of the house. There was no movement, no sound, no indication that anyone was inside.
For the umpteenth time, I really hoped Tim was telling the truth. He'd given me no reason to think otherwise, but I also hadn't known that Aaron was into something criminal. So I genuinely hoped he wasn't lying to Jillian, because if he was, he wasn't going to have to worry just about whoever was inside the house.
He was going to have to worry about me, too.
Thunder clapped overhead and more lightning lit up the canyon. Fat raindrops splashed against the ground and the wind stole through, whistling through the trees and breezing against our exposed flesh. Elizabeth shivered.
The door opened and Nick’s frame filled the doorway, blocking everything but the light.
“Let's go,” he said. “Bring them in.”
Jillian looked at me, her eyes once again hard and serious. “Let's go.”
TWENTY
Three other guys were waiting for us inside a sparsely furnished living room. A couple of dark green couches, two chairs covered in a coordinating plaid print, and a table made from the same honeyed wood as the exterior. A maroon rug was positioned beneath the table, the only covering on the all-wood floor. The large windows were free of curtains and blinds, and there were no knickknacks, no pictures on the wall. It felt as if the place had just been built.
I turned my attention back to the men standing in front of us. All three reminded me of Nick —shaved heads, suspicious expressions, and armed
.
“Sit,” Nick said, directing us away from the couches and chairs and to an unfurnished wall on the far side of the living room.
The three of us sat down on the floor, our backs against the wall. Our shoes left wet footprints streaked with mud, but no one seemed to notice.
“Hands in your laps,” he said.
“Where'd you find them?” a guy in a Raiders T-shirt asked, his eyes flitting across all three of us.
“Near the top,” Nick answered. “Jillian already had them when I got there.”
The guy in the Raiders shirt looked at Tim. “What were you doing up there?”
“We've already been through this,” I said. “Twice. They can explain it to you.”
“I didn't ask you,” the guy said.
“Well, I answered you,” I said. “We're tired of repeating the same story.”
Nick's mouth curved upward into a tight, close-lipped smile.
“I think you might be forgetting who's in charge here,” the Raiders T-shirt said, puffing his chest out and lifting his chin up.
“I have no idea who’s in charge and I really don't give a shit,” I told him. “If I had to guess, it's your buddy Nick. Certainly not you. So talk to your friends about what we were doing up there if you wanna know.”
Nick's mouth flickered again with a smile. Jillian's was set in a hard line and her eyes were doing their best to cut into me.
I knew I was going off-script and doing exactly what she'd cautioned me against. But I wanted their attention on me and not on Elizabeth or Tim.
“Or I could put this gun in your mouth and then see how you feel about that,” he said, moving a little closer.
Elizabeth tensed next to me.
“You could try,” I said.
His nose wrinkled, turning his entire face into a sneer. He lifted the gun and took another step toward me.
“Enough,” Jillian said. She shook her head and sighed, looking and sounding more like an exasperated teacher reprimanding rowdy students than a drug runner with an assault rifle holding three innocent people hostage with her thug partners. “They weren't doing anything and this is already more fucked up than it should be.”
The Raiders guy stopped and looked at her.
“I didn't want to bring them back,” she said bluntly. “They were camping and looking for Aaron. They don't know where he is. We should've let them go. We should let them go now.”
“So why didn't you?” another guy in a long-sleeved red T-shirt asked, leaning against the far wall.
“Because Nick said we were taking them,” she answered, frowning.
All eyes turned to Nick.
“They're friends with Aaron,” Nick explained quickly. His cheeks flushed and I wondered if he was feeling a little nervous all of the sudden about his decision to bring us in. “The one dude came up with him.”
“So where is he, then?” the third one asked. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Did he take off?”
“We never saw him,” Nick said. “But I'm thinking once he realizes his friends are with us, he might show up.”
“That's stupid,” I said.
All eyes moved back to me.
“Excuse me?” Nick said, raising an eyebrow. His expression was dark. Angry.
“That is stupid reasoning,” I said. “He doesn't even know two of us are here. And why the hell would he think that you'd have taken his friend? He's been gone more than 24 hours, but yet you think he's just going to magically show up here? Just because? You aren't thinking things through, and you're just making it worse.”
Nick's jaw clamped shut and shifted side to side as if he had a mouth full of chewing tobacco.
I felt Jillian's eyes on me and I knew she wasn't going to be happy. But I didn't see what staying quiet was going to do. If I could hammer away at the idea that they were screwing up by holding onto us, I thought we had a better shot at being let go.
“I really can make it worse,” Nick said, lifting the gun in his right hand and pointing it in my direction. “I mean, if you want me to.”
“You're going to need to do more than aim a gun at me if you want to make it worse,” I said, staring at him. My pulse had quickened but I forced myself to take even breaths, to not betray any emotion.
He blinked several times, his cheeks flushing with anger. I could tell that he wasn't used to being challenged and he wasn't sure how to handle it.
“Dad,” Elizabeth whispered. “Stop.”
“You seriously need to shut up,” Jillian said in a low voice. “All you've done is talk. Shut your mouth.”
I glared at her. I knew her message was tied to what she'd told us outside, but I wasn't ready to view her as an ally, especially since she’d rebuffed all of my efforts at convincing her to let us go.
“How about you, sweetheart?” the Raiders T-shirt said, kicking Elizabeth's foot with the toe of his shoe. “You got anything to say?”
I bristled. She set her jaw and didn't shrink away like I thought she might. She didn't say anything. She didn't do anything other than stare straight ahead and act like she hadn't heard him.
He crouched down at her feet, smiling. “Are you deaf? You need me to sign it out?” He waved his hands at her in some nonsensical movements.
She stared straight ahead, her eyes unblinking.
His eyes roved the length of her. “Or maybe I can take you back in one of the bedrooms and you'll feel like talking then?”
My right leg shot out, catching him flush in the ribs. He tumbled over backwards, his gun hitting the floor and sliding toward the guy in the red shirt. Nick had his gun trained on me, but he was laughing.
Raiders T-shirt was not laughing as he got to his knees. His face was red and his body was canted to the side, a good indicator that his ribs were hurting.
Mission accomplished.
“You're gonna regret that,” he said, still trying to catch his breath.
“I doubt it,” I said.
“This is dumb,” Jillian said, waving a hand in the air. “He's just looking to cause trouble and they don't know anything about Aaron. Let's let them leave.”
“I think we're past that now,” Nick said.
“No, we aren't,” she argued. “There's no threat here. If we let them go, there's no threat. What the hell are they gonna do exactly?”
“It doesn't matter,” he said. He was pacing now, the gun by his side. “They're the best link we have to Aaron.”
“They aren't even a link,” she said, shaking her head. “How do you not see that?”
“Because he's an idiot,” I said.
Jillian took two steps in my direction. Her expression was murderous. “I told you to shut up” she said, and before I could respond or even blink, she jammed the butt of her rifle into the side of my face.
Lights flashed, stars exploded, and everything went dark.
TWENTY ONE
The throbbing woke me up.
A steady thumping pounded on the side of my head. I swallowed and tasted blood; that coppery salty taste was unmistakable. My ribs ached and I winced as I drew in a deep breath. What the hell happened? And where was I?
I opened my eyes and tried to focus. Everything was blurry, faded, like I was looking through the wrong prescription lenses. But finally, the fog cleared and I was able to see.
I was on my back, staring at a log ceiling. Everything came rushing back. The canyon. Aaron. Elizabeth. And Jillian, who’d smashed the butt of her rifle into my temple.
I blinked several times, the thumping morphing into a splitting headache. I moved my jaw side to side. The fact that I could do that was a good sign.
I took a deep breath and pushed myself into a sitting position. I was staring at the wall I'd had my back against.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Jillian said.
I turned around slowly, wincing with pain at the movement.
She was leaning against the opposite wall, the gun resting against it next to her. She looked ca
lm and cool. Her ponytail was still tight, not a hair out of place, and her expression was one of mild irritation.
I looked around the room. We were the only two there.
“Where's my daughter?” I asked, alarmed. The stiffness was working itself through the side of my face where she'd hit me but I suddenly didn’t care about that. I didn’t care if my jaw was broken or if I had a concussion or if she’d split open my lip or my eye. I needed to find my daughter.
“Back of the house,” she said. And then, as I struggled to get to my feet, panic overtaking me, she added, “She's fine. I just checked on them. They took them back there after I knocked you out. Nothing's happening.”
“But that asshole—” I said, thinking of the guy who’d bent down to talk to her, who’d made lewd suggestions, the guy who I’d kicked in the ribs.
“He’s nowhere near her. I promise.”
“Go get her,” I said, spinning myself around slowly to face her. The pain was making me nauseous but I fought through it.
She glanced over her shoulder, then back to me. “She's fine. We need a minute to talk, anyway.”
I tried to stand up, but the entire floor tilted beneath me and I had to put my right arm out to steady myself. Pain ebbed behind my eyes, and I closed them for a moment, willing it to go away.
“She is fine,” Jillian said. “You have my word.”
“For what that's worth,” I said, opening my eyes. “You tried to take my head off.”
“You wouldn't shut up,” she said. “I told you to stay quiet and you didn't. And if I hadn't hit you, someone else would've and it would've been worse.” She jerked her head toward the back of the house. “You think Theo is super happy about taking a shot in the ribs from you? Being embarrassed in front of his boys?” She shook her head. “You need to chill out and let me help you.”
The pain ricocheted through my skull again and I fought the wave of nausea that rose up. “So far, your help has led me and my daughter here. So excuse me if I think you're full of shit.”
“You probably have a concussion,” she said, ignoring my comment. “But I didn't bust your jaw so you're lucky.”