Spider mountain cr-2

by P. T. Deutermann

“Okay, so make sure your people in Marionburg know that, John,” I said. “Ask them to get people over here, secure the scene, and then call Robbins County in-just don’t tell them who’s been shot until they get here. That way we might have a chance to get to the Creighs’ place and do something.”

  Bigger John gave me a bemused look. “Like what, exactly?” he asked.

  “I have no frigging idea,” I admitted. “But something. We have to do something, and so far, the federal people who’d normally roll on this won’t touch it.”

  “You don’t think they’ll come in now that Mingo and Hayes have killed each other?” Carrie asked.

  I was getting frustrated. We were standing here talking when we should have been on the move. “Look,” I said. “Mingo’s people are either out there in the woods somewhere or on their way to report back to Nathan that there was a small war out here and nobody came out. Get the local cops into it, explain what we think is happening, and let them pull in the feds. I’m not willing to wait. Grinny Creigh won’t wait, I guarantee it.”

  The two deputies looked over at Carrie to see what she thought, and she nodded agreement. “Join up with us as soon as you can turn over the scene,” she said.

  “Awright,” John said, and Luke agreed. If John was happy, Luke was happy.

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Give us ten minutes to get out to the highway. If you don’t hear any more shooting, you can assume we’re clear of the woods.” There I went again, encouraging people to assume.

  It was fully dark by the time we made our way out onto the paved road. We’d gone carefully, lights out, guns poking out of the car in all directions, in case Mingo’s crew had set up an ambush. Carrie rode in the back right seat while I drove; the shepherds were in the way-back. Nothing happened on the way down, so once we got to the paved road I put the hammer down toward Rocky Falls. It was almost seven as we came into the outskirts of town, and I suddenly realized I was starving. Carrie said she was, too, so we pulled over into the town’s version of a fast-food joint and hit the drive-through for greaseburgers all around.

  I parked the Suburban in a back corner of the lot where semis would usually park, and we attacked the food. Both shepherds were partial to the No. 2 Combo, which they dispatched with a gusto that gave new meaning to the term “fast food.”

  “What did he mean right there at the end?” Carrie asked. “That ‘wrong’ and ‘better’ stuff?”

  “Delirium of the dying,” I said. “I don’t think it meant anything.”

  There were no other vehicles parked back where we were; the one semi that had been there when we went through the drive-through left. I was wondering whether or not we were being just a mite conspicuous when I saw a Robbins County cruiser pull up into the drive-through lane. There were two deputies riding, but they didn’t seem to be actively looking for anyone. They stopped at the order box, placed their orders, then started around to the pay window. Halfway through the turn, their brake lights came on, followed thirty seconds later by their blue light rack. Hamburgers forgotten, they swerved out of the line, turned left out of the parking lot, and sped off in the direction from which we had come. The girl in the pay window stuck her head out and stared after them.

  “Word’s out,” I said.

  “Yup,” Carrie said. “Too soon. Now what?”

  “Now we go up there.”

  “You’re just going to drive into the Creigh compound and, what? Demand they turn over the children?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Tell ’em Mingo’s dead. Tell them the game’s up and that a whole herd of feds are on the way. We don’t want them, just the children. Give them up, we leave, and you sick fucks have maybe an hour’s head start. Like that.”

  “And I suppose I get to go up on the front porch?”

  “You’re the peace officer,” I said.

  “You seem to forget: I resigned, just like you did.”

  “Actually, I don’t think you did. I think you just told everyone you did. And while we’re at it, I think the Big brothers are SBI, too.”

  She cocked her head sideways. “Really.”

  “Yeah, really. Brother King told me he had people in Rocky Falls. Baby Greenberg supposedly had a cell on watch when I landed in the pokey, but it was the Big brothers who showed up to spring my butt. And even more miraculously, they switch allegiance from Mingo to Hayes’s office, and get hired in a single day, after you told them to execute that little move. And back at Hayes’s cabin an hour ago? When I was suggesting that they stay there? John didn’t agree until you gave the okay.”

  She wasn’t looking me in the eye anymore. “Well,” she said. We saw another cop car go roaring past, lights ablaze, in the same direction the first one had gone.

  “Yeah, well-nicely done, actually. It’s not like I’m pissed or anything, and of course I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. But enough’s enough: I’m going up there. If you won’t pitch the deal, then it’ll be harder, but I’m not going to sit here eating some fries while the clock’s ticking on when Grinny Creigh decides to cut her losses. How about it?”

  “I have to make a quick call,” she said, pulling out her cell phone and opening the car door.

  “Quick’s the operative word,” I said and got out myself to run the dogs for a moment while she conferred with whoever was running her little operation, probably King. I was telling the truth when I told her I wasn’t pissed. I’d sort of figured it out when I thought about how easily the Big brothers were moving through the various jurisdictional lattices. And then up at Hayes’s cabin those boys had looked to her more than once, even when I was the one yelling orders.

  I got the dogs back in the car and readied Hayes’ shotgun. I was wishing I’d snatched up the Bushmaster, but I hadn’t seen any more magazines lying around. Carrie got back in the car.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” she said. “King said all hell’s breaking loose in the Rob-bins County Sheriff’s Office right now, but he doesn’t think the Creighs have been alerted yet.”

  “That something he knows?”

  “Nope. Not at all. I think we have to assume the opposite.”

  Assume, I thought, and started laughing. I don’t think Carrie appreciated why.

  15

  The closer we got to the Creigh compound, the less confident I was. I couldn’t tell if Carrie felt the same way, but I could not for the life of me think of any different move. Nathan might get one look at me and come screaming off the porch with a handful of knives, as might Grinny herself, over Rowena if nothing else. It was fully dark, so they might have to wait a few seconds to see who or what had showed up. Carrie kept trying her cell phone to establish comms with someone, anyone, but the signal evaporated once we left Rocky Falls. I looked at my watch-it was seven thirty. I hadn’t seen any utility poles going up to their cabin, so, even if they did have a generator, they might not have telephone service. The trees looked larger than life as our headlights swept over them along the river road.

  “If the kids are there, where would she keep them?” Carrie asked.

  I told her about Baby’s theory that there was a cave or some other underground structure behind or below the cabin. “And I thought I saw some little faces inside that time I was taken there at night,” I said. We were approaching the turnoff to the dirt road.

  “You really think I should go up on the porch?” she asked.

  “Hell, no,” I said. “We’ll drive up there, honk the horn until someone shows up, and conduct our discussion from inside the car. In fact, you should be in the backseat with a shotgun instead of over there on the passenger side. That way you can give me some cover if they come out shooting.”

  “What if they don’t come out at all?” she asked. Good point, I thought. But I had a plan.

  “Then I’ll find some way to set the place on fire and we’ll burn ’em out. Like they tried to do to Laurie May.”

  “Listen to you,” she said. “Eye for an eye-you’re starting to sound like you�
�re the one who came from here, instead of me. Stop and let me get into the backseat.”

  We were approaching the entrance to the field that lay out in front of the cabin. I stopped and she switched seats, taking Hayes’s shotgun with her. There were no lights showing up above around the cabin. I decided to drive right up there, the way Mingo had done. I turned the headlights on bright to make it tougher for anyone inside to see who was coming and gunned it up the front field, half-expecting gunfire as we made our approach.

  Nothing happened. I pulled up in front of the steps and lay on the horn. Carrie was crouching in the backseat with the shotgun barrels resting on the left rear windowsill. I had her nine in my lap. It felt like a toy. I hit the horn again, waiting for lights inside.

  Nothing. Silence. Not even a dog barking. Then I realized there should be a dozen or more dogs barking.

  Nothing but the sound of my engine running.

  “Where are all those damned dogs?” I asked.

  “They’ve run,” Carrie said quietly from the backseat.

  I decided to shut down, get out, and look around. It felt like there wasn’t anyone there. Carrie got out, and I asked her to cover me with the shotgun. I left the dogs in the vehicle, just in case Grinny’s pack appeared suddenly. I walked down across the front of the cabin, the nine in hand, until I got to the dog pen area. It smelled as rank as before, but it was definitely empty. The moon was rising in the east, but it was still pretty dark up there. A small breeze stirred the pines, bringing a draft of clear, cool air down from the big ridge behind the cabin.

  I opened the door to the barn where they’d cuffed me in the stall, and it, too, appeared to be empty of any animals, four- or two-legged. Carrie had moved halfway down the covered breezeway with all the firewood in order to keep me in sight.

  “Anything?” she called quietly.

  “Nope,” I said, walking back to where she was standing. As I examined the cabin for any signs of life, I thought about going inside. Even the side windows had bullet holes in them, courtesy of my temper tantrum with Nathan’s shotgun.

  “No way,” Carrie said, reading my intentions. “She probably has it booby-trapped.”

  “Get the car keys,” I said. “Then let’s go around in back.”

  About the time she opened the Suburban’s front door a match flared on the front porch, and we both spun around, guns coming up. Grinny Creigh was standing in the front doorway, turning up a kerosene lantern. We hadn’t heard a sound until she lit the lantern.

  She didn’t even look at us until she got the wick where she wanted it, dropped the glass, and then lifted the lantern with one hand and picked up her own shotgun. She held it by the receiver. It was an old-fashioned, heavy steel double, and she held it as if it were a willow wand. She didn’t say anything, just looked at us. Her massive body looked like a small silo with a human head on it.

  “Police officers,” I said, loud enough to be heard in the house. “We’ve come for the children.”

  “What damn children?” she said calmly.

  “Mingo’s dead,” I said. “Hayes killed him. There’s a couple dozen feds in Rocky Falls right now. They’ll be here soon. Give us the children and we’ll leave you alone.”

  “What children?” she said again.

  “The ones you have for sale,” I said. “Like the one you showed that doctor the other night, when you asked him if he could take more than one should you need to unload the whole mess of them.”

  She studied my face in the lantern light. If she was impressed with what I’d just said, she gave no sign of it. “How’s Brother Hayes?” she asked.

  So she knew what had happened. Two could play this game. “Where’s Rowena?” I countered.

  Her face twitched. “Away,” she said. She turned to Carrie. “You that Harper girl, went off to work for the state?”

  Carrie said, yes, she was. Her shotgun was still pointed in Grinny’s general direction, but not right at her.

  “I recollect your little sister,” she said. “Pretty little thing. Went missing in the river with your papa. Real shame, that was.”

  Hold on to yourself, Carrie, I thought. Don’t go doing what you want to. “She’s trying to provoke you,” I muttered to her. “Watch out for creepers.” She grunted through clenched teeth but started looking around at our perimeter. The shotgun was still pointed in Grinny’s direction, however.

  “Just give us the children, Grinny,” I said. “We don’t want you. The feds do, but it’ll be an hour before they get here. Give us the kids and we’re out of here.”

  “You the one shot down my Rowena, ain’t you?” she asked, holding the lantern a little higher.

  “She kidnapped Special Agent Santangelo here and then pulled a gun on me. I shot her before she could shoot me.”

  “Blowed her head clean off, didn’t ye,” she said. “Had’ta plant her in two pieces, we did.”

  Carrie raised the barrels on her shotgun to point at her. “That’s what shotguns do,” she said. “Want to see?”

  Grinny looked first at me and then at Carrie’s gun. Then she did a curious thing: She smiled. It was a twisted, faintly triumphant smile. Then she raised two fingers in a V, mumbled some words, and spat between them. I felt Carrie stiffen beside me.

  “There now,” Grinny said. “Count the hours, missy.”

  “I’m so very not scared,” Carrie said.

  “You should be, missy.” Then she turned to me. “Ain’t no children here,” she said. “Everybody in these parts knows I’d eat ’em if they was. Boil ’em in oil and then eat ’em for breakfast, so everybody says. You people get on outa here. Them revenoors want to come in here, they better bring ’em a warrant.”

  “Count on it, Grinny,” I said. “And pack your bags. You’re going away.”

  “No,” she said, “You the ones going away.” She carefully set the shotgun down on its butt against the wall, reached sideways, and pulled on a chain that was attached to something in the floor of the front porch. We heard what sounded like a trapdoor dropping, and a moment later every damned one of her dogs was piling through the latticework under the porch, unlimbering a yard of slavering canine ivory each, and coming our way.

  We both scrambled into the Suburban with maybe one second to spare before they were all over the vehicle. I zapped my window up and started the engine, while behind me I heard Carrie’s gun go off as three snarling dog heads appeared in the left rear window trying to get in. One dog lost its head while the other two went screaming, earless, for cover. Grinny had disappeared and her front door was closed.

  I backed up in a hurry through a sea of snapping, snarling, growling beasts. My shepherds were very wisely keeping their heads down in the way-back. I illuminated the front of the cabin with my brights again, but there was no sign of anyone else getting ready to take action. Carrie had rolled up her window and was reloading the shotgun.

  Nathan had taken the children somewhere. I was sure of it. Grinny didn’t care if the feds did come; they wouldn’t find anything. I was also sure she didn’t keep meth or any other drugs here, so her cabin would reveal nothing. I’d been bluffing about feds coming, anyway. Most of the action would be in the two sheriffs’ offices, in both counties, for some time. I backed the car up some more and then turned to head back down the field. All that bravery and we’d flat-ass struck out. Bounced off, once again.

  “Now what?” Carrie asked. She was getting good at asking that. And then it occurred to me that Grinny might have been simply lying. They were all in there, kids and Nathan, down in the basement or in that cave or whatever it was behind the cabin. Short of going back and shooting every last dog, there was no way we could to force our way in there. The dog pack continued to surround the vehicle, making more noise than ever, as we drove off. They were everywhere, snapping at the tires, trying to jump up on the hood and the back door.

  “They could be in there,” I said. “I’m not taking Grinny’s word for fuck-all. Let’s lose these dogs and then
come back.”

  “Lose these dogs?” she said. Two of them had locked their jaws on the bumpers as we rolled down that field.

  “Well, hell, at least thin ’em out,” I said. I kept the Suburban rolling down the field in first gear and half-lowered my window. I shot the first mouthful of teeth that jumped at the window and then the next one after that. They backed away then, but still followed us down the field, raising absolute hell and lunging at the vehicle from every direction. Carrie lowered her window and blasted two more with the shotgun as we finally made it into the tree line. The dogs quit at the edge of the field. We rolled up our windows, and I turned on the vents to clear the gunsmoke.

  “Let’s go over to Laurie May’s,” I said, putting the vehicle onto the dirt road leading down to the big creek. “We’ll come back through that crack in the ridge.”

  “And do what?” she said. From the sound of her voice, the dog pack had unnerved her. To be honest, it had unnerved me, too. That had been very close.

  “There’s that cave on this side of the ridge, right down from the crack. We get to that, make noise, and attract the dogs. Then we kill every one of them. We’ve got two shotguns and my rifle. Then we walk down there and get close to that cabin.”

  “The stealthy approach, hunh?” she said.

  “They know we’re back. If the feds do show up, all the better. If not, I still want those kids. She knows we know, so maybe she won’t kill them all out of hand.”

  “Or she already has,” Carrie said. “Or Nathan’s gone and taken them up to some hole in the mountains where he’ll bury them alive.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Shit, take your pick. To any one of the hundreds of hideouts, caves, old mines, sinkholes, you name it, up there in that ten thousand acres of blank space on the map the state calls game lands.”

  “First things first,” I said. “Let’s go do what no one else has ever been able to do.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Get inside that cabin.”

  “Why not wait for backup?” she said. “Get the Bigs here, at least.”