Cross Purposes

by Gina L. Dartt

  Pausing mid-swing, Emily thought about it. “Christ, you’re right,” she said, and let the hammer dangle weakly from her hand as she considered the options. “It’s night and the temperature’s already dropped to below zero. With the breeze coming off the water, it could be minus fifteen or twenty with the wind chill. There’s nothing between us and the car, which is a good twenty klicks away. That would take about four hours to walk, and we’re not dressed warm enough. The possibility of exposure is too dangerous.” She exhaled and straightened. “Damn it, they really took us out of the equation. By the time we get out of here, they’ll be long gone.”

  Lana put her hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re alive,” she said. “We’re together. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all good.”

  “You’re right,” Emily said, even as a part of her kicked and howled inside, furious at being outsmarted by the likes of that Devereaux woman. Hiding her true feelings as best she could, she managed a weak smile. “Listen, when I don’t show up for work tomorrow, the members of my detachment will come looking for me. A trace of my phone and cards will put me in Cheticamp. LoJacking my car will bring them to the island. They’ll find us by tomorrow night at the latest. Until then, we have to be careful about hypothermia.” She looked over at the nearby tarp. “We can use that for shelter.”

  Lana followed her gaze, her nose wrinkling a little. “It looks pretty dirty.”

  “Better than freezing to death.”

  As they pulled the tarp off what Emily had presumed was more building materials of some kind, she was astonished to discover something else. “Oh,” she said, jaw dropping.

  “Why would that be stored here?” Lana asked, amazed.

  Emily shook her head in wonder and a rising exhilaration. “I don’t know. I wonder if it runs.”

  The four-wheeler was pretty battered, the leather seat ripped, yellowish stuffing poking through, the red paint faded to a pale hue. Not an official vehicle of any kind, it didn’t seem the sort of thing that should be stored in a government owned building, but Emily was more than willing to overlook the infraction. She immediately checked the engine, noting that the battery had been unhooked. There wasn’t any gas in the tank either, but three red gas tanks on a shelf across the shed had sloshed promisingly during their earlier investigation.

  “Can we use this?” Lana asked.

  “I’ll attach the battery,” Emily said, her tone warily hopeful. “You get the gas cans and fill the tank. We’ll see if there’s enough charge for it to turn over.”

  They spent the next few moments working diligently, and when Emily finally straddled the machine and turned the key that was stuck in the ignition, she heard a definite response, a throaty cough. Reminded that the machine had probably been sitting there since autumn, she tried again and was rewarded by the engine starting up, complete with a powerful backfire that sounded like a shotgun blast, nearly deafening her.

  The roar of the engine was overpowering in the confines of the shed, the fumes from the exhaust pungent. Emily knew she had to find a way out as soon as possible. Without waiting to confer with Lana, but making sure she was well out of the way, Emily revved the engine, threw it into gear, and aimed for the double doors.

  “Oh, my God!” Lana screamed as Emily rammed into and through the wooden barrier, the doors flying open to smash into the outside of the shed with resounding bangs that must have echoed across the bay like dual pistol shots. Bouncing through the opening, Emily nearly lost contact with the hurtling vehicle but somehow managed to keep hold of the handlebars, knees gripping the frame between them with a willful desperation. Skidding to a stop on the snow outside, she looked back at Lana framed dramatically in the doorway, backlit by the fluorescent lights.

  “Are you all right?” Lana demanded, her tone one of amused exasperation.

  “Fine,” Emily said, and laughed shakily. “I’m heading for the car. Stay here and keep warm. I’ll be back for you in a while.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m coming with you.” Lana stepped down from the shed interior with dignified grace. Throwing her leg over the saddle behind Emily, she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.

  “This is going to be a cold trip,” Emily warned her over her shoulder.

  “When I have you to keep me warm?” Lana whispered hotly into Emily’s ear. “I doubt it.”

  Laughing into the wind, Emily turned the four-wheeler toward the road and accelerated into the night.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Face buried into the back of Emily’s neck, Lana was warmed by the soft skin and stray strands of blond hair whipping around her head. She hugged her tightly, the four-wheeler jolting as they rumbled down the dirt road, the front headlight barely illuminating it. It didn’t help that it had begun snowing while they’d been trapped in the shed. Almost an inch had accumulated already, forcing them to travel slower than they’d hoped. Even with the reduced speed, the wind they generated made it brutal on any exposed skin. Emily had been forced to stop after only a kilometer in order to wrap Lana’s scarf around her face for protection.

  They’d been traveling for about thirty-five minutes when the car appeared in the distance, still parked on the side of the road. Relief spread like a wave through Lana, who’d been terrified that Juan or Pierre had stolen the Challenger, leaving her and Emily to ride the four-wheeler all the way back to Cheticamp. Skidding to a stop behind the car, Emily shifted down and turned off the engine. Lana’s ears rang with the cessation of noise as she stiffly got off the machine.

  “They took your keys,” she said, suddenly remembering the kidnapping. Her mind had been shying away from that fact, trying not to think about the sick fear and horror she’d experienced anymore than she had to, but now she felt stupid, worried that they’d come all this way for nothing.

  “Yeah, they did,” Emily said and went to the rear of the car, kneeling down to reach underneath the bumper to the chassis, where she withdrew a small magnetic box. “But I have a spare.”

  After retrieving her backpack and the snowshoes from the ditch, then tossing everything into the trunk, Emily quickly unlocked the doors. They piled into the car, and Lana felt safe for the first time in hours. Emily started the engine and turned up the heat to maximum before looking over at Lana, her expression very serious.

  “They’re about four hours ahead of us,” she explained. “It’s about eight hours to the Maine border by car, but it’s more logical to assume they’re heading for Sydney and the airport, to try to smuggle the cross out that way. The nearest RCMP detachment is over in Cheticamp, but by the time we finish explaining all this and get the warrants in motion, they’ll probably be on a plane, which means extradition and a whole lot more paperwork, assuming the American authorities can track them down on their side.”

  “Going to the authorities would be the right thing to do,” Lana said and looked out the windshield, watching the small white flakes land lightly on the glass. “But they are from New Orleans,” she added. At Emily’s bemused look, she nodded toward the snow. “How familiar do you think they are driving in this? It’s been raining for the past week, and while there’s been a little freezing rain, there’s been no snow at all. Now, we’ve got reduced visibility and the snow is sticking to the road.”

  Emily’s face relaxed. “So four hours might not really be four hours. They might not have reached Sydney yet, especially if they turned off in Margaree Harbour and went cross-country. Those are some pretty nasty hills at the best of times.”

  “And I’m positive they stopped for food at some point.”

  “With Michelle along? Count on it.” Emily’s teeth glinted white in the illumination of the dashboard lights. “They probably think we’re out of the picture for a day or so, so they might not be pushing it.”

  “They do have a gun,” Lana reminded Emily somberly.

  “Yeah, they must have smuggled it across the border or had some contact here that could get them one illegally. That is a concern
.”

  “I was really frightened at the time,” Lana said, slowly. “But in retrospect, it seems they went out of their way not to hurt us.” She exhaled. “If they were really hardened criminals, they would have killed us.”

  “They didn’t kill us because they didn’t have to,” Emily responded in a logical tone. “They could achieve their goal without it. But if we try to prevent them from leaving the province, that could change. Any time a gun’s involved, it’s serious. I really should call it in.” But her fingers tapped fretfully on the wheel, and she sounded greatly dissatisfied with that solution.

  “You want to go after them yourself, don’t you?”

  Emily exhaled. “I really do. It’ll be a lot less hassle with the suspects in cuffs than trying to get an arrest warrant in time to prevent them flying out.” She looked at Lana. “I say we go to Sydney. It might be the only way to keep them from leaving the province. If we’re too late or guessed wrong and they headed for the Halifax airport or New Brunswick instead, we can always file our report with the Sydney detachment.”

  Lana leaned over and kissed her, cupping her face in her gloved hands so she could squarely meet her gaze. “Whatever you want to do,” she told her with complete sincerity. “I’m with you.”

  Emily returned the stare, her blue eyes warming perceptibly. “Sydney, it is,” she said and reached for the gearshift.

  Lana watched the four-wheeler disappear behind them in the side mirror, wondering how long it would take before it was found, or even how long it would be before anyone realized the lighthouse shed had been broken into. Then there was the fact they hadn’t officially checked out of their cabin in Cheticamp or returned the snowshoes. She suspected her credit-card statement would display some pretty hefty and unusual charges in the upcoming month.

  Ah, well, it’s been worth every penny, she told herself as they turned back onto the pavement and accelerated for the mainland. You only live once. Smiling, she rested her hand on Emily’s thigh, enjoying the play of muscle and warmth through the dual layers of thermal and denim.

  Emily, one hand on the wheel, her right resting on the gearshift, flashed a smile her way but didn’t comment, apparently content to have Lana’s hand stay right where it was as they drove on through the night. It wasn’t snowing hard, yet, but the flurries were flying straight at them, making visibility a little tricky. Emily seemed comfortable with the conditions, however, and drove steadily, the V8 under the hood offering a throaty purr. The Cape Breton Highlands loomed large and foreboding on either side of them, making Lana feel claustrophobic, and with the lack of traffic, it felt as if they were the last people on Earth.

  “What happens if we catch up to them?” she asked about thirty minutes later as they approached Buckwheat Corner, where the highway turned north to circumvent Bras d’Or Lake.

  “We follow them,” Emily said. “If I find an opportunity to call for help or separate Michelle from them, or them from their weapon, then I’ll take it.” She looked over at her, her brows lowering. “In the event that happens, please don’t step between me and any gun.” She let out her breath slowly. “What were you thinking?”

  Lana shrugged lightly, reminded of how she’d positioned her body between Emily and Pierre when he first pulled out his weapon. “I was thinking I didn’t want them to shoot you.”

  “Him shooting you was the better option?”

  “I hadn’t worked it out that far,” Lana admitted.

  “Well, don’t do it again,” Emily said, putting her hand over Lana’s and squeezing her fingers. “I sure as hell don’t want to lose you now that I’ve finally found you.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” Lana said dryly.

  Headlights appeared in the distance, and Emily let go of Lana’s fingers to put both of her hands on the wheel as the oncoming cars passed them. The road here was a little more difficult than the one through the hills. On Emily’s side, a deep ditch separated the highway from the hillside that climbed straight up into the night sky. On Lana’s side, only a guardrail separated the road from the sheer drop-off to the water below, a stretch of fresh water known as St. Patrick’s Channel.

  Lana tried not to think about it as the Challenger slid a little before Emily corrected. “How’s the road?”

  “Slick but manageable,” Emily replied. “The wind off the water is making it freeze, but I’ve driven in a lot worse.”

  Red taillights appeared up ahead, complete with four-way flashers, indicating the vehicle was traveling a great deal slower than the speed limit. As they bore down on it, Emily pulled out to pass but then abruptly pulled back in, coming up on the slower car’s rear bumper.

  “Well, isn’t this interesting,” she said dryly.

  “What?” Lana demanded.

  “I recognize the license plate. You were right. They don’t know how to drive in this.”

  “Oh, my God, it’s them?”

  “So much for their head start.” Emily sounded quite pleased.

  “Do you think they know we’re here?”

  “I doubt they recognize my headlights, which is all they can see,” Emily said. “But if I pass them, they’ll know the car quick enough.”

  “Won’t they wonder why we’ve slowed down so much? I mean, this is ridiculous. They’re not even going thirty. It would be faster to get out and walk.”

  “We’ll follow them until we’re away from the cliffs,” Emily said, her eyes narrowed. “The road turns inland as we reach Baddeck. I might be able to force them to pull over there without endangering anyone. The problem is the gun. As long as that’s in play, anything could happen, and most of it is bad.”

  “We could just stop at a gas station or something and call 911,” Lana pointed out.

  “That’s a poss—” Emily immediately took her foot off the gas. “Did you see that!?”

  Lana’s jaw dropped. Someone had opened the back door of the sedan and jumped out as it was moving, hitting the slushy pavement and rolling for several feet. As Emily brought the Challenger to a gentle stop, the car in front was less graceful, the driver obviously slamming on his brakes, which was the worst thing to do in the conditions. The sedan immediately began to fishtail, skidding back and forth across the highway before turning a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree doughnut.

  “It’s Michelle!” Lana could scarcely believe what she was seeing.

  “Open your door,” Emily snapped. “Don’t get out. Just grab her and pull her in.”

  As Lana did as ordered, she saw the car ahead come to a full stop, somehow still on the highway rather than in the ditch, probably because they’d been traveling so slowly in the first place. Michelle had stumbled to her feet and was now half sprinting, half sliding toward them. When she reached the Challenger, she let out a yelp of surprise as Lana grabbed her and pulled her in across her lap.

  “Bend your knees,” she screamed absurdly. “So I can get the door shut!”

  Ahead of them, Juan had flung himself out of the car and was now down on one knee, aiming something at them. Lana didn’t need to hear the gunshot, or the blood-chilling ding of a bullet ricocheting off the hood and zinging through the air not far from her head, to know he was shooting at them. As Michelle curled up in a ball, making herself as small as possible, Lana managed to slam her door.

  “Hang on!” Emily shouted.

  She quickly executed a U-turn and accelerated back the way they’d come. Lana, her arms full of Michelle, glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Juan jump back into his car and start off after them.”They’re chasing us,” she said tersely.

  “Well, unless their driving improves, they’re not going to catch us,” Emily said calmly.

  Lana glanced down at Michelle, who was ashen, her freckles standing out against her pale skin. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” Michelle squeaked. “I knew you were following us, so I took a chance.”

  “It was a hell of a chance,” Emily said. She glanced in the rearview mirror. “They’re
not giving up. Get in the back and buckle up.”

  Without argument, Michelle slithered into the backseat through the opening between the front seats. Quickly, she pulled on her seat belt as Lana grabbed the handle above her head with her right hand and the edge of the passenger seat with the other. Beside her, Emily drove with a competent skill as the high beams of the car behind them reflected brightly off the rearview and side mirrors.

  Now this was a car chase, Lana thought wildly. Anyone could do it on a double highway with six lanes in California’s perfect weather. Try doing it on the Cape Breton Trail with a deep ditch on one side, a sheer drop-off to Bras d’Or Lake on the other, and drifting snow to worry about. As she watched the needle on the speedometer tick ever upward, she knew it was only a matter of time. Something had to give.

  Either Emily would lose control and go off the road or their pursuers would.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Michelle shivered in the backseat, heart thudding. She was soaked again, her new jeans torn from where she’d jumped out of the car and slid across the road. She still couldn’t believe what she’d done. It was as if she’d been in a dream, trapped in the rear seat of the rental car, listening to Juan and Pierre bitch about the weather and how it forced them to go slow and that they couldn’t wait to get home and how the lights in the rearview were irritating as hell and why didn’t the bastard just pass them? She’d looked back and recognized the car behind them, or at least thought she did as she peered at the shadowy outlines of it through the back window.

  Then she was unfastening her seat belt, opening her door, and flinging herself from the car as if in a movie. She was surprised she didn’t break her neck, but she supposed if she had survived falling out of a tree and almost being swallowed up by a collapsing well, then jumping from a moving vehicle was no big deal.

  Every muscle in her body ached, she had road rash down her left leg and elbow, and she thought she might have chipped a tooth. But for all that, she was rather jazzed at the fact that she’d escaped Juan and Pierre’s clutches yet again.