No Place to Hide

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No Place to Hide Page 10

by Lynette Eason


  Elizabeth followed his directions only to find other law enforcement officers had beat them there. She and Sam flashed their badges and pulled close to the edge of the woods. Elizabeth climbed from the vehicle and raced toward the stopped ATV, hand on her weapon. Officers surrounded it.

  She spotted an agent she’d worked with one other time. “Gayle, fill me in.”

  Sam stepped up beside her. Gayle shook her head and pursed her lips. “It was empty when we got here. They took off on foot. We’ve got the K-9’s on the way.”

  “Should have had the K-9’s already here,” she snapped.

  “Yeah, I know. There was a hold-up somewhere. Traffic accident slowed them down.”

  Elizabeth bit her tongue. It wasn’t Gayle’s fault. “Sorry. Which way did they take off?”

  “We’re not sure. There were some tracks that make us think they’re heading north.”

  “What’s north?”

  Gayle lifted her iPad and touched the button at the bottom of the screen. A full-color map appeared. “Here. This area is still pretty remote. An abandoned gas station along this road, a small church, a neighborhood, and two schools. Agents are searching door to door as we speak. The schools are on lockdown.”

  Elizabeth nodded. The team was efficient and experienced. Things didn’t always go as planned, but it was going as well as possible. Now if it would just continue to go that way, they would have Lockwood and Sellers in custody before nightfall.

  “Are they behind us?” Ian looked back over his shoulder.

  “They’re behind us,” Jackie said, dodging a branch. “Just keep going. I’m surprised they don’t have the dogs on us.”

  “Thank you, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  She ignored his sarcasm. “Just about another mile, I think.”

  “How can you tell where we are?”

  “I don’t know, it’s a gift.” She really didn’t know how to explain it. She never had any problems with directions or knowing where she was. She could look at a map and know how to get from point A to point B without bothering to look again. She stopped to listen.

  Nothing. Had they lost them?

  Maybe. For now.

  “Like doing three-digit multiplication problems in your head?”

  She huffed. “You remember that?”

  “Of course. You freaked everyone out at the spelling bee when you refused to spell ‘pontification’ and asked for a math problem.”

  She snorted and motioned for him to follow her. “My English teacher blackmailed me into doing that spelling bee. It was either that or detention.”

  “So you decided to do math instead.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you answered it right. And the next one. And the next one.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Never did figure out how you did that.”

  “It’s like a puzzle. Simply take the numbers apart and put them back together again in a way that they make sense.”

  She noticed that while she wasn’t winded from their dash through the woods, neither was Ian. Satisfied that he wouldn’t physically hold them back, she pressed on harder, knowing their luck wouldn’t hold out forever.

  They exited the woods and found themselves on the edge of the highway. Jackie didn’t stop, just continued her jog. Ian stayed with her.

  “We’re almost there.” She pulled out her phone, turned it on, and dropped it back in her pocket. “We’re going to be pretty exposed for the next two or three tenths of a mile, though.”

  “Where’s the helicopter?” he asked.

  “It’ll be back.”

  Just as they hit the tree cover again, the phone rang and she snagged it, never breaking her stride. “Yeah?”

  “Where are you?” Ron said.

  “Trying to get to the rendezvous point.”

  “Look for a blue Ford king cab truck with a horse logo on the side.”

  Relief spilled through her. They might have a chance after all. “Thanks, Ron. I’ll call later. I’m ditching the phone.” She hung up, deleted Ron’s number, and turned it off. She stopped for a second, reared back, and gave the phone a hard toss to the right of her. She immediately took off again, Ian beside her. She looked at him. “We’ve got a vehicle.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see.” Jackie started to feel the effects of the run. She ran every other day, but not this fast—and not for her life. She heard sirens in the distance and thought the helicopter might be coming back. Law enforcement was closing the circle and she had no idea how they were going to slip through it.

  Finally, the small abandoned shop came into sight. They darted across the street. Jackie heard the helicopter getting closer. “Under the awning, quick.” She ducked under and Ian threw himself up beside her with Gus at his side. A few seconds later, the chopper roared overhead. “You think they saw us?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. If they did, the cops will be here fast. They definitely know we’re in the area so are most likely setting up roadblocks as we speak.”

  “Then how are we going to get away?”

  She didn’t bother to answer as they circled the building to find the blue truck Ron promised. With a horse logo on the side and a trailer full of manure hooked to the back.

  And Ron sitting in the driver’s seat.

  Jackie threw herself into the passenger seat, Ian and Gus jumped into the back.

  Ron grinned at her. “You’re not staying in here.”

  Jackie groaned. “How did you get here so fast? You’re like Houdini.” She nodded toward the backseat. “Meet Ian and Gus.”

  He spared the two a glance. “Nice to meet you fellows.” He turned his attention back on Jackie. “Told you I had a chopper. Landed on a friend’s farm about a mile out, borrowed his truck, some of his reprocessed hay, and drove in. Now get out.”

  “Reprocess—what?” Ian asked.

  Ron motioned them out of the truck and around to the back where he had the manure piled in the bed. “Reprocessed hay. Get the dog in the cab. You two get under that long wooden box. Might be a tight fit, but it’s big enough for the two of you. I’m going to throw that tarp over it while you two hook up to the tanks. Get the masks on good. Then I’m going to shovel this load over you. The wood will keep it from pressing down on you, the tarp will keep it from pushing through the cracks. Get Gus’s vest off of him and keep it with you under the manure. I don’t want them finding any evidence that I’ve got a service dog with me. Gus is simply my pet, got it?”

  Ian’s eyes went wide, but Jackie couldn’t miss the determination even if it was mixed with a bit of consternation. He went to the door and opened it. “Ride, Gus.” The dog hopped into the passenger seat.

  When Ian returned, Jackie hesitated and gripped Ron’s arm. “You can’t put yourself on the line like this, Ron. I feel horrible even asking you to.”

  “You didn’t ask.” Ron pulled at the well-worn cowboy hat on his head and wiped his gloved hands on his mud-spattered jeans. “Been listening to the police scanner. There’s a roadblock three miles away. They figured out you were heading north and have taken quick action to shut you down. We’re going to get you through that.” He handed her a small wireless device. “Put this in your ear so you can hear what’s going on.” He handed one to Ian too.

  Jackie still didn’t move. “I’m serious, Ron, you can’t do this.” She looked at the three-sided wooden box. The open side faced her, a dark hole waiting for her slide into. “I can’t do this. I think I’d rather take my chances with jail.” Just the thought of climbing in it made her throat want to close up. “You know how I feel about closed spaces. I really don’t think I can do this without panicking and giving you away.” She swallowed.

  “I can do this and I am. And you are too.” Ron squeezed her shoulder. “You can dig out with no trouble, Jackie. You won’t be trapped. I made sure of that.”

  He pressed a small shovel into her hand and her fingers tightened around it. She could get out. The thoug
ht helped.

  Ron turned to Ian. “The cops are everywhere, going door to door, stopping people on the streets, flashing your pictures. They’re going to be searching this building pretty soon.”

  “Exactly. Which means we need to go,” Ian urged.

  “So how are you going to get through the roadblock if I don’t help you? If you don’t get in that truck?” Ron asked.

  Jackie sighed and thought. And came up empty. “You’re right. We need you.” She looked at the wooden box, the plastic tarp. The pile of manure that would be shoveled over her. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t—

  “Now that we’ve got that settled, we’ve got about sixty seconds to get going. You’re going to get in the back like I instructed and I’m going to shovel this manure over you and drive you through the roadblock. Simple as that.”

  “Simple as that,” she muttered. She eyed Ron, barely keeping her panic under control. “This was your only solution?”

  Regret flashed in Ron’s eyes. “It’s the only way, Jackie. You’re stronger than you think. You always have been. You can do this.”

  Her heart fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird. Her fingers spasmed over the handle of the shovel. “Right.” She heard the faint sound of the helicopter approaching. She looked at Ian. “You ready?”

  His fingers flexed into a fist. “I’m ready.” He stared at Ron. “You’ll be an accessory. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because Jackie believes in you.” Ron held Ian’s gaze for a brief moment before nodding to the back of the truck. “No time to gab. Hurry up. And take this with you. Can’t let them find this in the truck if they decide to search.” He shoved a black backpack into Jackie’s arms. “I’ll explain later.”

  Jackie wanted to scream, to run. But she couldn’t. Ian was counting on her. Ron was risking everything to help them. So … she was going to do this. She was going to let Ron bury her alive.

  Elizabeth watched the live video feed coming from the helicopter. “Where’d they go? They didn’t just walk off the earth.”

  Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are they so hard to catch?”

  “They have help.” She slapped her hand against the hood of the car.

  “Who?”

  “You’ve got the number Lockwood called his brother from.”

  “Right.” Sam paced, his mind racing, wondering where she was going with this.

  “And we have a record of all calls made to that phone and from it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So who did they call?”

  “No one.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense. There’s a record of several calls. Who did they call?”

  “Prepaid cells. No names attached to the phones.”

  “They’re all definitely professionals.”

  “Sellers is and the organization she works with. She’s the one telling him how to stay under the radar.”

  “I want background checks on everyone connected to Operation Refuge.” She typed a text and waited for the response. “Sweeny’s on it. We’ll have that information shortly.” She thought and typed another text. “All information related to any phones in their names. Landline calls, cell calls. Any calls from pay phones. I want a list of everything for the past two days.”

  Sam nodded. “The chopper’s over the roadblock on I-95.”

  “Backing up traffic pretty bad there, people are going to be fuming.”

  “It’s already on the news. Massive manhunt for suspected terrorist and his accomplice.”

  Her phone dinged. She swiped the screen and shook her head. “I don’t understand why a woman with an outstanding law enforcement background would allow herself to be dragged into this.”

  Sam shrugged. “Maybe she was just trying to help a friend and it exploded in her face.” He paused. “What if he’s forcing her to help him?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “She’s too well trained. She’d find a way out. A way to call for help. Something.”

  “Yeah.” He fell silent.

  Elizabeth turned her attention to the next roadblock. “They’re not seeing anything suspicious.”

  Sam snorted. “That’s because there’s no way they’d risk going through a roadblock.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. Think about it. They’re probably running through the woods or hiding out in a deserted shack waiting for us to give up and go home.”

  “That’s why we have the dogs in the woods.”

  Sam groaned. He slapped the computer shut as a king cab Ford with a horse logo on the side pulled up to the roadblock.

  14

  1:15 P.M.

  Ian discovered he didn’t like tight spaces. Most especially being buried alive. No, he didn’t like it at all. At least the mask on his face blocked the odor. He breathed deep from the rebreather and felt the purified air fill his lungs. Jackie’s death grip on his fingers kept him from panicking. His mind clicked with trivia he’d learned from a scuba diving class years ago. The air he was breathing wasn’t really oxygen, it was atmospheric air that had been through a compression cycle which thoroughly filtered—

  “Officer, what can I do ya fer?”

  Ian blinked as Ron’s voice came through the wire. He’d affected a country bumpkin accent to near perfection.

  “We’re looking for two people.” A rustle sounded. The officer showing Ron the picture? “Have you seen them?”

  “Hmm … yep. I seen ’em.”

  “Where?” Tension threaded the officer’s word.

  “On the television just afore I left home. You find ’em yet?”

  A disgusted sigh. “No sir, that’s why we’re stopping people and asking if they’ve seen them.”

  “Oh right. Gotcha.”

  “You mind if I take a look?”

  “Not a’tall.” Gus barked and Ian flinched. Jackie’s fingers convulsed around his. “Eh, don’t mind Mike here,” Ron said. “He’s harmless. Unless he thinks you’re invadin’ his space. Or mine.”

  “Right. Right.”

  “You want me to get out?”

  “No sir, I want you to stay put. Hey Ned, get over here a sec.”

  Low chatter sounded. “Hold tight, boys and girls,” Ron’s whisper came through the earpiece. “We might be doing this the hard way.”

  Ian’s stomach twisted and Jackie’s fingers tightened.

  “All right, sir, do we have your permission to search the back of your truck?”

  “A’course. You wantin’ me to shovel that manure so you don’t get them pretty uniforms dirty?”

  Ian heard a low chuckle. “No sir, just let us take a quick look.”

  “All righty then.”

  Ian’s heart pounded. He could feel Jackie’s tension in the way she gripped his hand. It was all he could do to be still, to refrain from ripping the mask from his face and begin to dig his way out. His muscles convulsed. His breathing quickened.

  Jackie’s warm palm fell gently on his face. She rubbed in slow circles, avoiding the mask over his nose and the rebreather in his mouth. Her hand traveled from his cheek to his shoulder where she dug her fingers into his hard muscles. Ian swallowed, realizing what she was doing. He could almost hear her saying, “You’re not alone. I’m here. It’s going to be all right.”

  He flashed to one of the summer days they’d escaped to the lake together.

  “Your mom’s going to have a cow if you don’t let her know where you are,” Jackie had said.

  Ian had shrugged as only a seventeen-year-old with the weight of the world on his shoulders could. “She probably won’t even know I’m gone.”

  “She’ll know.”

  “Yeah.”

  They lay there on the warm sand, the sun soaking into their young bones. Jackie broke the silence. “She won’t notice, will she?”

  Ian sighed. “No. Probably not.”

  Ian pulled himself from the past. His mother hadn’t noticed. No one had noticed that he’d spent the night at the
lake on the sand under the stars. He’d come home covered in mosquito bites, but it had been worth it. Jackie had stayed with him just holding his hand and talking to him.

  He remembered wanting to kiss her, but he hadn’t been able to work up the nerve.

  Now with the feel of her strong fingers massaging his tense muscles, his pulse slowed, his breathing evened off. Ian closed his eyes and saw exactly the same thing as when he’d had them open. Pitch black.

  He tuned back in to Ron. “Y’all about done? I got to git that there load delivered and get back to the missus.”

  A grunt. Then the bed of the truck shook. Ian felt something above him, like the manure shifting. Something. An officer’s quiet voice came through. “Ned, you want to dig through that load of manure?”

  “Not me.”

  “Yeah. I poked around and didn’t see anything.”

  “Wave him on.”

  Ian felt his tension lessen by several degrees. The truck started to move.

  “Hey, wait a minute.” The truck stopped again. “I just got a report there’s a dog with them. Some kind of service animal.”

  Ian’s tension ratcheted back up to stroke levels. Jackie’s squeeze on his fingers cut his circulation off.

  NEW YORK CITY

  James Walden stood and held out a hand. “Welcome to Walden’s Mortuary. You must be the Bateses.” He studied the couple, the man’s drawn face, the woman’s red-rimmed eyes. The faint purple bruise on her right cheekbone. The yellow bruise over her left eye. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  The young man in his early thirties nodded. “I’m Frank and this is my wife, Karla. I’m sorry to just drop in on you, but I don’t have many free moments during the workweek. I was able to get away and thought I would take advantage of you being here. So, sorry for just popping in and not giving you any notice.”

  “There’s never very much notice in this business, I’m afraid.” James didn’t smile when he said it. He wasn’t trying to be funny. He glanced at the clock. “We weren’t scheduled to meet until tomorrow and I do have another appointment. Do you think we could take care of this later today or even tomorrow?”

  “No. I’m sorry. We can’t.” Mr. Bates dropped his keys onto the desk, settled himself into the nearest chair, and crossed his arms. His wife bit her lip and shot a look toward the door.

 

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