Thread of Danger (The Joe Tyler Series Book 7)

by Jeff Shelby

  The sound of the rain falling was broken momentarily by what I thought was a car engine in the distance, coming up the road in our direction.

  “Okay,” I said. “All three of you need to go back down to the campsite.”

  Elizabeth looked at me like I'd lost my mind. “What? We just climbed out of the canyon.”

  “I know that,” I said. “But they're coming up here. From the highway. I need all three of you to get out of sight before they get here.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Figure out how to hold them off,” I said. “And how to get out of here.”

  “Dad, I don't—”

  I could hear the hysteria in her voice and I forced myself to not look at her. I couldn’t bear to see the expression I knew she would be wearing. The fear, the panic.

  “Go to the campsite now,” I said, my voice harder. “Jillian is covering the other end. She'll be here to help us. And find the keys to the truck while you're there.” I paused. “Go now.”

  I knew she was weighing an argument, wondering if she should try to assert herself and convince me that she was right and I was wrong.

  “Go!” I practically screamed.

  She readjusted Tim's arm around her shoulders and I saw her glance at Aaron. “You got him?”

  Aaron nodding, still shaking from the rain and the falling temps and the fact that there were people with guns coming toward us, ready and willing to shoot us dead.

  They got him moving. Tim's legs barely functioned, but he managed to do enough so that they weren’t dragging him along.

  Elizabeth paused for a second and looked me square in the face and I wasn’t fast enough to turn away or shift my own gaze. She squinted at me through the rain. There was no fear. No panic. Instead, her eyes were hard, her expression resolute. “Be careful. Please.”

  I nodded and watched them begin working their way back down the muddy hillside.

  THIRTY FOUR

  The headlights flared against the darkness and I suddenly knew what it felt like to be a deer frozen on the highway with a car approaching.

  The lot was an open space. There just wasn't much protection. The highway was on one side, the canyon on the other. I could move down into the canyon, but I thought that it might give them an advantage being above, not to mention that it might put the other three in their view, too. So I decided that the best I could do was to make myself a tough target and to put myself in a spot to shoot first.

  I dropped to my knees, swung the gun off my shoulders, and then laid myself flat against the ground. I pushed the gun under the car and then wormed my way in after it. There was barely enough clearance and I felt my shirt snag twice as I got myself into position. I righted the gun, placed it as well as I could beneath my chest and slid my right arm over, my finger in the trigger guard. I experimented getting my head into several positions, trying to give myself the clearest line of sight and angle that would work. I finally found one, took a deep breath, and waited.

  The tires crunched against the gravel and I took another deep breath, trying to steady myself.

  The car slowed to a stop. From my vantage point, I could only see large tires that I assumed belonged to a truck or large SUV. The car idled for a moment, then the engine shut off and the only sound was rain hitting the pavement.

  I turned my head slightly to the side, listening.

  They didn't know we'd been there. I assumed they were thinking that they'd beaten us to the top and that we were still in the canyon. They had to be thinking about how they wanted to play it.

  I was trying to decide how I wanted to play it, too.

  The door on the truck creaked open and Nick's boots hit the ground. He was talking to someone else in the truck, but his voice was muffled and I couldn't make out what he was saying or who was with him. He left the car door open and his boots turned so his toes were pointed in my direction.

  I had to make a decision. I could lie in wait and see what they planned to do and hope that I'd be able to work to a better angle or locale in order to trap them.

  Or I could work with a sense of urgency.

  I tilted my chin down and lined up the barrel of the gun.

  My finger squeezed the trigger.

  I moved the gun in a horizontal line across his shins, then held it at the tire of the truck. He fell to the pavement, his gun clattering away from him, his hands grasping for the bottoms of his legs. The tire behind him was hissing and the wheel was nearly flat against the ground.

  I started working backwards beneath the car, staying as low to the pavement as possible. I had no idea who was in the truck with him, but I didn't think they'd stay there very long. I crawled backward on my elbows until I felt the rain hit my legs, then my back, then my head.

  I got up to a crouch, staying low behind the car. Nick was still moaning on the ground. I stuck my head around the rear of the car. He was on his back now, his legs clutched to his chest.

  Then the passenger door opened and I ducked back behind the car.

  A barrage of bullets flew over and through the car, the windows shattering as they were pierced. The fire was from an automatic weapon, something far more powerful than what I had, and my heart pounded hard inside of my chest. I took a deep breath, exhaled, then rotated out fast from behind the car.

  I stayed low and held the trigger as it spit bullets into an oversized pickup. I saw movement on the other side, a head flashing down below the passenger window just before it shattered to pieces. I dropped the muzzle down and fired beneath the car, the bullets scattering against the asphalt.

  And then my gun went quiet.

  My finger was still wrapped around the trigger, squeezing it tightly, but nothing was coming out of the barrel.

  It was empty.

  I ducked back behind the car.

  A steady line of bullets whizzed over my head and bounced off the asphalt around me. I was pinned right where I was with no place to go. The gun fired incessantly, louder than before, and I realized it was coming closer.

  I was absolutely stuck.

  By the time I dropped the empty rifle and reached for the handgun in my waistband, Curry Thompson was standing in front of me, looking over a small submachine gun of some type with two pistol grips, the short barrel pointed right at my face.

  “Hands up now,” she said. Her hair was wet and stuck to her scalp, and her eyeliner and mascara mixed with the raindrops hitting her face, leaving dark streaks on her cheeks and under her eyes. “And bring that right hand around slowly. If there's anything in it, I will fucking cut you in half.”

  I let go of the grip on the handgun and did as she said.

  “Turn around,” she said, remaining rock still. “Back to me.”

  I shuffled around so my back was to her.

  “Hands on your head and put them together,” she ordered.

  I put my hands on my wet scalp and laced my fingers together.

  “If you move, you'll never walk again,” she said.

  The barrel jabbed into the center of my back and I felt the handgun leave my waistband.

  “Turn around and face me,” she said.

  I turned around.

  Her clothes were sticking to her, the fleece vest practically dripping with water. Without her make-up and styled hair, she looked like a suburban mom who’d been caught by surprise by a sudden summer storm. Save for the automatic weapon that was zeroed in on my chest.

  “You've turned out to be a major pain in my ass,” she growled.

  “Didn't mean to be,” I said, shaking my head. “I told that guy not to take us.” I glanced at Nick, flat on his back on the pavement, blood covering the bottom half of his legs, his eyes glazing over in much the same way Tim's had. “I'm thinking he wished he'd listened now.”

  She shook her head and I couldn't tell if it was because she thought I was right or because she was disgusted with her employee. “Too late for that now,” she seethed. “You took out my men back at the hous
e. Ruined my property. And you damn near took out this idiot.” She motioned to Nick, her expression murderous. “Goddamn it! No one fucks with me like this. You hear me? No one.”

  “I just want to go home,” I said. “That’s it. Get my kid and get her home. I don’t care what else you do. It’s none of my business.”

  “Oh, you’ve made it your business,” she said, laughing. With her free hand, she brushed at the strands of wet hair clinging to her cheeks. “There’s no way out of this now, daddy. Not for you and not for your precious little snowflake.”

  “Please.” I knew I sounded desperate, knew I was pleading with someone who didn’t bargain, who didn’t play fair or nice. But it was all I had. “She’s been through so much already. She was taken from me for almost ten years. She just lost her mother. She doesn’t deserve this. Not any of it. She made a shitty choice in friends, but she doesn't deserve this.”

  She pursed her lips, giving me puppy dog eyes. “What a sad, sad story.” Her eyes narrowed. “So sad I’d say that you’re making it all up. Maybe you and Jillian were in drama together? Is that it?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’ve never seen her before, not until she walked up on us in the canyon. I swear.”

  “Not sure I believe that.”

  “I don't know her and I don’t know you,” I said frantically. I didn’t want to look toward the canyon, didn’t want to give away Elizabeth’s whereabouts, but panic was threatening to dictate my moves in the same way it was already dictating my thoughts and words. “I don't know her and I don't know you. All I'm trying to do is get my daughter out of here. Please.”

  She arched an eyebrow but it wasn’t as impressive now, especially with her make-up running freely down her cheeks. “Oh, yeah? So you'll leave my pal with me? The little shit whose growing in my canyon and selling in my city?”

  Aaron. She was talking about Aaron. I nodded. “If that's what it takes, yeah. You can have him. He's not my problem.”

  “And Jillian?” she asked. “You'll let me have her, too?”

  I thought about the redhead who’d helped me and Elizabeth escape, who’d initiated our breakout from the cabin and who’d covered for us as we worked our way up the canyon. The woman who was absolutely going to die by the end of this.

  “I don't know her,” I said, making sure I didn't hesitate. “She's not my issue.”

  “Where are they?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  The corner of her mouth moved upward. “You are not a good liar, asshole. My guess is the canyon,” she said. “Probably not far from here. I've got more people than you do. We'll find them.”

  She wasn't wrong. The numbers were against us. As the rain continued to fall, I couldn't think of a way to counter that, a way to get a handle on things and turn the tables that were stacked against me. She had a gun aimed at me. I was unarmed. My daughter was in a canyon with an injured boy, also unarmed, scared and in no shape to fight. I had no idea if Jillian was alive or dead. I was on my own.

  And time was up.

  “Sorry, daddy,” Curry said, still holding the gun steady. “Too many eyes and too many mouths. “And I'm not known as the nastiest bitch around here for being soft.” She shifted the gun as she refocused it on my temple. “I’m sure you understand. Not your fault you walked into all of this, maybe, but we can't undo that, now can we?”

  I took a deep breath, but it caught, like my lungs were full of water and there was no more room for anything else. I'd fought for so long to get my life back to normal and yet it seemed as if I could never get the needle to stop moving. I'd given up nearly everything to get Elizabeth back and I couldn't believe that it was all going to end for both of us because we'd tried to help someone else.

  “Please,” I whispered. “My daughter…”

  “I’ll be quick with her,” Curry promised. “Mercifully quick. One bullet to the head, just like what I’m going to do to you. She won’t feel a thing. Of course, she’ll be scared. Sobbing, probably. Wondering if Daddy is gonna show up and make things alright.” She grinned cruelly. “You’ll just have to do that on the other side, won’t you?”

  My throat constricted and my eyes welled with tears and fuck, what was happening? A million images flashed through my mind, nearly all of Elizabeth and Lauren and the moments we’d spent together and the moments we’d spent apart, all on some fantastic fast-forward-slow-motion turntable that was impossible to slow down or speed up or stop. I gasped for breath but my lungs were collapsing and I couldn’t see because of the tears and I croaked one last word before I closed my eyes for good.

  “Elizabeth.”

  THIRTY FIVE

  The gunshot exploded from my left and my entire body jerked.

  But the orientation of everything was off and I knew something had gone wrong.

  Or right.

  I opened my eyes.

  Curry was splayed out on the ground, flat on her back. Her gun lay across her body and her legs and arms were at odd angles. Her mouth and eyes were open, but they weren't operating. A lake of blood ebbed from a hole at the base of her throat.

  I turned toward the canyon.

  Jillian was crouched in the scrub brush, one of the rifles situated against her shoulder and pointed in what had been Curry's direction. She stood slowly and looked at me. “You alright?”

  I swallowed and tried to nod. “Yeah. Fine.”

  She knew I was lying and I didn’t care. She nodded “I wiped out most of them down below. A couple turned back and beat it east in a car. They aren't coming this way.”

  I took a couple of breaths, trying to steady myself. My hands were shaking and I pressed them against my sides.

  “I saw your daughter and her friends down there,” she said. “I told them to wait until you came back for them. They should be okay, assuming the kid with the shoulder wound is holding up.”

  “Okay,” I said and the word felt broken, hesitant coming off my tongue.

  She took a few steps toward me. “You sure you're okay? You don't look okay.”

  I swallowed a couple of times, then nodded. “Yeah, think so. Just...ah...I don't know.” I cleared my throat, trying to make my voice sound stronger, firmer. “Thought that might've been it. And...never mind. Long story.”

  “You're him, aren't you?” she asked.

  I looked at her. “What?”

  “When Nick flipped open your wallet, he looked at your license and said your name,” she said. “Joe Tyler. You're the guy that found his daughter, right?”

  My fingers were still trembling against my legs.

  “I recognized the name,” she said. “Then I saw the way you were shielding her, the way you were worried about her.” She gestured back toward the canyon. “And back there, at the house, I could tell you were reading the room. Assessing the danger, finding the vulnerabilities. You weren't just some poor bastard out for a weekend hike.”

  I took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just trying to stay alive and make sure my daughter's okay.”

  “Well, you made sure,” she said. “And you kept me alive, too, so I guess I owe you some thanks.”

  “Think we're square.” We were more than square. She’d saved my life. Period.

  She looked at Curry's body. “I guess.”

  I was anxious to get to Elizabeth. I wanted to race back to the campsite and grab her and never let her go. But I had one last question to ask.

  “So she was right?” I asked. “You’re a cop? Or at least not some drug thug?”

  She glanced toward Nick. He was rolling around on the asphalt, sort of rocking back and forth. He didn't look coherent, but he wasn't dead. Yet. She walked over and took the rifle on the ground near him and slung it over her shoulder. Then she walked back to me.

  She looked to the canyon. “Let's get your daughter.”

  THIRTY SIX

  “I'm taking the truck,” Jillian said.

  It had only taken us a few minutes to find Elizabeth, Aar
on, and Tim down near the campsite. Tim looked better than he had earlier. There was color in his face and his eyes weren't flat. Elizabeth looked tired. Aaron still looked scared. We guided them back to the parking lot, me bringing up the rear. It served two purposes: I could keep my eyes on my daughter and I could get myself back under control. My hands were still shaking and my heart was still jack-hammering.

  “And what are we supposed to do?” I asked, motioning toward the deflated tires and shot out windows in my own car. “Mine's done for and so is the SUV Curry rode up in.”

  We all turned to look. The large tires on the Escalade were flat against the ground, victims of bullets I'd fired when I cut down Nick.

  “I'll call for an ambulance for him,” she said, pointing at Tim. “They'll take you all in. You can figure it out from there.”

  “What are we supposed to tell them?” Elizabeth asked. “I mean, look around. Look at Tim. That other guy Nick is still alive on the ground over there. What are we supposed to tell them?”

  Jillian glanced over at Nick, then walked in his direction. She squatted down and I could tell she was talking to him. Then she helped him sit up. His face was gray and he was incoherent. She pulled him back toward the massive SUV and he groaned. She propped him up against it and his head lolled to the side, but he stayed upright.

  Jillian came back to us. “Just tell the truth. Don't lie about anything. It'll be fine.”

  “Even you?” Elizabeth asked. “Tell them you left us?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Just tell them the truth.”

  I looked at Elizabeth. “We'll be fine.”

  The rain had settled into a fine mist and some of the warmth was creeping back into the air. I had no idea what time it was and the darkness gave us no clue.

  “I need the keys,” Jillian said.

  “It's my dad's,” Tim said, his voice hoarse. “It's not really mine.”

  “I'm not asking,” she said coolly. She still held the weapon and she looked like a mercenary who wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  He felt around in his backpack with his good arm, without much luck. I pushed his hand out of the way and dug deep into the pocket, past the bottles of what I assumed were sunscreen and insect repellent, past a pack of gum and a wallet and the cellphone he’d said was tucked inside. I finally found the keys, pulled them out, and tossed them to Jillian.