by Jenna Kernan
Axel recognized them instantly. The Kowa tribe used these vessels to give tourists exhilarating high-speed rides on the river and perhaps for the occasional tobacco run to Canada. Before the fishing boat was fully underway, it was surrounded by the Mohawk Nation. Gunfire exploded again, and grappling hooks glinted in the air. Axel turned his attention to the water.
A face broke the surface. Rylee, he realized, holding the other woman by the collar of her shirt. Rylee sputtered and struggled to keep her mouth and nose above the surface as she was swept from the boats and downriver. He ran along the seawall, following her course. In a moment, she’d be right in front of him and then, he feared, gone forever.
Chapter Twenty
Rylee saw the orange ring buoy sailing through the air, over her head and past her. But the rope fell across her shoulder. She tried to grab at it, but her arms were so heavy with her sodden shirt and the cold. Her fingers would not respond to her command to clasp. So she hooked her elbow over the rope and held on. She felt the friction as the rope pulled through her jointed elbow, the pain a relief from the numbing death that stalked her. Someone was trying to save her.
After what seemed hours, the ring struck her. She fumbled to get her arm around the ring but it only dunked and bobbed away. She tried again and the ring upended and then shot farther away. Fear enlivened her efforts. If she didn’t get ahold of the ring, she’d die. But to grasp the ring, she needed to release her captive.
Was the woman already dead? The hungry, desperate voice in her head told her to let go and that only made her grip the more determinedly against the impulse. She would not let go. Like one of those snakes she had heard of that locked their fangs and would not release even if their head were severed from their body. Rylee held on and watched the ring being tugged away.
She pivoted back toward the receding seawall. Someone was there, gathering the rope, preparing for another throw. But this time, the ring buoy fell short.
On shore, the man tied the rope around his waist. A spotlight illuminated him. It was Axel, stripping out of his jacket and holster. Tearing off his boots and flinging aside his hat. What was he doing?
The answer came a moment later when she saw him back up and then run on bare feet down the concrete pad and dive far out over the water.
Shouting reached her, cutting in and out as she bobbed beneath the surface and then kicked on weary legs back to snatch a shallow breath. The shivering had stopped. Was that good or bad?
A bright light blinded her. A spotlight. If it was the lobster boat, she was dead. Should she let them shoot her or sink once more?
Rylee’s kicks grew weaker and she feared that if she sank this time, it would be her last.
* * *
AXEL SWAM OUT to Rylee through the freezing water. He could not see her, but he could see the spotlight from one of the boats from the Kowa Nation. He used it like a homing beam, swimming hard and lifting his head only to mark his progress. Behind him, the ring buoy dragged, made noticeable by the slight tug at his waist as he pulled himself along.
He’d learned to swim in the army. A sinker, his drill sergeant had said—too much muscle and little fat. If he stopped kicking, he sank like a stone. But the only way he’d stop was when he and Rylee were safely back on shore. The light danced just before him, so close he could see the entire circle, but he did not see Rylee.
He grabbed a breath of air and dove. Beneath the surface, the light caught the pale glow of her blond hair and skin, now blue in the artificial light.
Rylee reached out her free hand to him as she sank and he grasped her wrist. Reversing course now, he kicked to the surface, breaking first and gasping in the dazzling white light. He dragged her against him with one hand, pressing his chest to hers, keeping her and the second woman before him as he dragged the rope, hand over hand, behind them. The ring buoy hauled closer and closer until he had it behind Rylee. Beside her, the other woman choked on river water and sputtered. Both women had lips the color of raw liver and the shock of that sight was enough to get him swimming.
Shouts reached him. He turned to see Sorrel Vasta waving and motioning him toward the boat. Axel could not even see the shore past the bright light, but he trusted Sorrel and changed course again.
The motor of the boat engine hummed in his ears and then cut abruptly. A second buoy slapped the water beside him and he looped one elbow through the ring. An instant later, he and his charges were gliding along the choppy water toward the stern.
They reached the ladder. Both women were tugged from his arms by many hands. The light flicked off as Axel tried to climb aboard. His hands were stiff with the cold and gripping was difficult. He crooked his wrists and used them, as he might if wearing mittens, to scale the ladder and reach the stern platform. There he sprawled. Heaving and spent.
Vasta kneeled over him, throwing a blanket across his shivering body.
“Axel? We’re heading to Kinsley Marina. Ambulance is waiting to take you all to the ER,” said Vasta.
Axel nodded. “R-Rylee?”
“She’s breathing. The other stopped. We’re working on her. Resuscitation. You sit tight.”
The engine roared and the boat tipped, cutting through the water like a blade.
“The other b-bo...” His tongue wasn’t working, and the shivering was getting worse. That made no sense. He was out of the water and wrapped up tight.
“We stopped Wayne’s men before they got inside the walls of their compound. Father Wayne and eight of his men. Trussed up like grouse. My other boat is taking them in to the Border Patrol guys. Ha! Wait until they see what we brought them. They gonna have to cut us some slack. Maybe have to say thank-you. That might about kill them.”
“Rye-lee,” he whispered.
“We’re taking care of your woman, brother. You just sit tight.”
A shout and cheer came from behind him.
Vasta grinned. “We got the other lady breathing again.”
* * *
RYLEE WOKE UP to the sound of a vacuum cleaner and found that she lay between two air mattresses. Beside her, a freckle-faced red-headed woman, dressed in violet scrubs, checked a machine that blipped and pinged beside the hospital bed.
She noticed her patient was conscious and smiled at Rylee. “You waking up? Good deal. I’ll tell your people. They’ve been in and out of here, checking on you.”
“Where am I?”
“Kinsley General Hospital. I’m Tami, your nurse. You’re in our ICU. You came in here about the temperature of an ice pop, but we warmed you right up.”
“The woman...”
“The one who came in with you?” Tami grimaced. “She’s here, too. Bullet wound and the cold. She has frostbite on both feet. Friend of yours?”
“Not really.”
“Good, because they have state police standing right at her cubicle. Whatever she did must be bad. We only get that handling when we treat prisoners from Franklin or Upstate Correctional. What’d she do?”
“Not at liberty—”
“To say.” Tami rolled her eyes. “Already heard that one. You with Border Patrol?” she asked.
Rylee shook her head. “Department of Homeland Security.”
“Well, I’m eaten up with curiosity. You had a near miss.”
Rylee lifted the clear covering on top of her that was swollen with air.
“That’s a warming blanket. Got one below you, too. Still trying to bring your core temperature up to normal.” She tapped away at her tablet and then smiled at Rylee. “Nothing to eat or drink for you just yet. But soon. Your family has been notified.”
“My family?”
She tapped on her tablet. “Father, Colonel Hockings.” She paused there to make a face that showed the title impressed. “In...Guam. Army?” she asked.
Rylee flinched. “Marines.”
Tami smiled as if it
were all the same to her.
“Where is Axel?”
“The sheriff? Next door.” Rylee didn’t like the smile on Tami’s face as Tami glanced in the direction of the hall. “On my way to check his vitals next, which I would do for free. But when I’m done, who will check mine?” She laughed. Then she pointed at the button clipped to Rylee’s bed rails. “Press the button if you need anything.”
Rylee waited until the nurse left to pull down the air blanket. Immediately, she began to shake and shiver again. She had so many questions to ask and patience was not her strong suit. But she adjusted the blankets and closed her eyes, hoping the blanket did its work quickly. She had not meant to sleep, but when she next opened her eyes, only the light above her bed was on and the blankets both top and bottom continued to reverberate like a vacuum cleaner.
* * *
AT SIX O’CLOCK on Sunday morning, Axel checked on Rylee and then checked himself out of the hospital against the doctor’s orders. Damned if he’d miss the biggest case this county had ever seen, lying in a hospital bed under an electric blanket. He wasn’t leaving without seeing Rylee, though. He discovered from a familiar nurse in purple scrubs that Rylee had been moved to a private room for security. From Tami, he learned that Rylee had been awake part of last night. All her vitals were good, and she would suffer no ill effects from her dive into the St. Regis. The woman she rescued had not fared so well. He was informed that she would likely loose several fingers and both feet to frostbite. One lung had collapsed from the bullet wound and she had suffered dangerous blood loss. Whether that had caused brain damage was still unknown. She was currently in a medically induced coma to protect her brain as she healed.
The trooper stationed at Rylee’s door checked him in. They’d been on many traffic fatalities together, so the ID was unnecessary.
“Do you have any word on what happened at the compound last night?” he asked.
“None. Been here most of the night,” said the trooper.
Axel nodded and left him, pausing when he reached Rylee’s bed, wondering if he could touch her. All the wires and tubes made him nervous. Even her finger had a pulse monitor clipped on. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I’m here, Rylee. I’m going to finish this for you.”
Her heart rate accelerated and her eyelids fluttered. He waited, hoping she would open her eyes. But she did not, and he let himself out.
He was just passing registration when the circus came to him. The flashing blue-and-red lights of law enforcement vehicles bounced off the waiting room walls from the windows overlooking the parking lot. He reached the main waiting area when the double doors whooshed open and in marched the federal and state authorities, moving in formation.
Catherine Ohr led the pack. She was flanked by two men in dark suits and black woolen overcoats. All that was missing were fedoras and they could have been extras in a Bogart and Cagney movie. Behind them, five state police officers stood with sullen expressions and bristly short haircuts, the purple band around their Stetsons matching the purple leg-stripe on their trousers.
“That was a speedy recovery,” said Ohr. “They told me you were spending the day.” The woman smelled of cigarette smoke.
“Unfortunately, they didn’t clear that with me.”
“Just coming to see you,” said Ohr, pinning him with watery blue bloodshot eyes. Rylee’s supervisor had had a long night.
“What a coincidence,” said Axel.
“Where’s Agent Hockings?” asked Ohr.
“Still in her room, sleeping.”
Rylee’s boss lifted her thin eyebrows at him, then flashed her shield and ID at the receptionist.
“You have an empty room?”
They were led to a small exam room. Ohr left the troopers milling in the hall. She and her two agents now stood between him and the exit, and for a moment, he thought they were here to arrest him.
“What happened after I went in the river?”
“Quite a lot. The Kowa Nation captured the Mondellos, who were attempting to flee custody in a lobster boat. The Kowa had several boats. The fastest brought you, Hockings and the suspect to Kinsley for treatment.”
He remembered that. Speaking to Vasta and wondering if the suspect had died.
Ohr continued her summary. “Border Patrol got the men fleeing the wharf before they reached their compound. My people raided the compound, but Wayne and his council were not among them.”
“They got away?”
“He did not. But he tried. Wayne and his people were in a small motorboat on the river trying to flee the country.”
“You caught them.”
“The Kowa caught them. Initially with Border Patrol.” Her smile was broad. “Wayne is in federal custody along with his council, five men who were with him. Two others suffered gunshot wounds and are here in the hospital. My people are interviewing the men and women from the Kowa tribe. Your retired sheriff is helping with a team at the Mondello property. We have all the Mondellos in custody except the eldest of his sons, Quinton. Still searching for that one. Just about finished up there. We still need a formal interview from Rogers. He seems to know everyone in the county.”
“Did you get to the compound? Did you stop them from taking the suicide pills?”
“We did. Thanks to you. You told Acting Chief Vasta before they took you to the hospital. They got the word to us.”
He vaguely remembered that.
“Seems your father was going to clean house by ridding himself of anyone in the congregation who might have known what he had been up to.”
Axel felt sick to his stomach to be associated in any way with that man. To have him as his father was crushing.
“You saved a lot of lives, Sheriff.”
Most important of which was Rylee’s. Had he saved his mother? The empty place in his insides ached. Maybe now he’d learn who she was.
“Is there anything else, Sheriff? I need to check on the condition of the woman Rylee dove in to save from the river,” Ohr said.
“I’ve had an update.” Axel relayed what he knew about her condition. “I do have one more question. How did Rylee know about the wharf?”
He’d lived inside that compound and didn’t know about it.
“According to Agent Jackson, one of the women in the compound suggested they check there for the suspect.”
He frowned. It was unlike any of the members to act in a way that would threaten the group.
“Who?”
Ohr referred to her notes again and read. “Sister Della Hartfield.”
Della was an elder. Why would she help DHS agents?
“We’ll be taking the suspect into federal custody as soon as the paperwork is signed.” She motioned to the two agents beside her, who then swept from the room and vanished from his line of sight.
The troopers trailed after them, presumably toward the ICU and their suspect. Axel suspected the doctors and nurses of Kinsley General would put up a fight, but they’d lose.
“Is she the person who carried the duffel?” he asked.
“Yes. Father Wayne confirmed it. He was hiding her at his compound. Waiting, I assume, for the right time to move her. She’s the one we wanted. Good work apprehending her.”
“I didn’t apprehend her. Rylee did that.”
Ohr smiled and inclined her chin. “Group effort, then. Retired Sheriff Rogers says that you called him and he called the leaders of the Kowa people.”
“That’s correct.”
“But not Border Patrol. Why is that?”
Axel thought of Rylee’s text and his panic at knowing she was in trouble.
“Rylee’s text alerted them and you. I called the men and women who I could trust.”
“Which included a tribe of Kowa Mohawk and your retired mentor. Not the state police or federal
authorities.”
“Both too far away to help.”
“I should have you fired.”
“I’m an elected official.”
“Yes. Inconvenient. Likely your county will throw you a parade.”
“Probably a pancake breakfast, but I can hope for a spaghetti dinner.”
Ohr made a sound in her throat. Then she cleared it and gave him a hard look. “Wayne Faith is your father?”
“So he tells me.”
“He’s going to prison. Initial overview shows he has offshore holdings and has been playing fast and loose with the congregation’s funds for years. In addition to that, as you feared, he called for the followers who remained behind to take some sort of suicide pill.”
“But you saved them?”
“Most.”
“How many dead?”
“Four. All children. Given the pills before we could reach them.”
Axel felt sick.
He turned his back on her and used a paper cup from the dispenser to get some water. The tap water was warm, but it pushed down the bile.
“Additionally, two of Mondello’s men were wounded by Rogers. Two Kowas were shot by Mondello’s men. No fatalities from the gun battle.”
“Who were the wounded?” he asked.
She read the names from a small notebook. He knew each man.
All this, to protect one woman, keep her hidden with his secrets. His father had gone from being a zealot and flimflam man to a federal criminal.
“What will happen to Father Wayne?”
“Espionage charge. It’s a capital crime.”
Why did he care what they did to him? Was it because he was blood? Blood that had shamed him all his adult life.
“That’s why I’m here. Since your father isn’t talking.”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Fine. Since Wayne Trace, AKA Father Wayne Faith, isn’t cooperating, I need some insight on the congregation. Help sorting and getting those we detained to speak to us.”