Stolen

by James Hunt

  “The picture,” Lena said. “What was it?”

  “He kept going on and on about this special assignment he got, and how he was getting paid a lot of money for it. Another guy joked that whatever it was must be illegal, and Coleman got all serious, leaned into me and my buddy so only the two of us could hear. He said that it was off the books, that no one was allowed to know about it. Then he got out his phone and showed us this picture. It was dark and blurry, but I could see some of the waste barrels in the background.”

  “Did he say where the picture was taken?” Longwood asked.

  “No. It looked like the middle of nowhere. You think living here as long as I have I’d be able to recognize something, but even after forty years it all still looks the same.”

  Lena stood and motioned for Longwood to join her outside. “I need to see Coleman’s phone.”

  “Lena, I don’t think—”

  “If you need an excuse, you can tell the judge that I was preparing evidence for Jake’s defense. I’ve already filled out the formal paperwork to represent him. You can even log it through the proper channels. But we need to do this now, Chris.” Lena glanced over to the clock.

  “All right.” Longwood walked them over to the evidence locker, and he checked the phone out of storage himself. “I’m surprised Kelly hasn’t reached out to grab some of this stuff. Most of it could have been picked up yesterday.”

  Lena clicked the power button, hoping that it still had some juice left. The screen illuminated, and she immediately sifted through the photos, praying that he hadn’t deleted it. Then, after a few swipes, she saw it. “There.” She zoomed in. The waste barrels were in full view, but she saw something else behind them. It was blurry but had the outline of a man. She couldn’t tell who it was from the picture, but she had a good idea.

  “Son of a bitch,” Longwood said, muttering to himself. “I checked his phone records but never bothered to look at what he had on the phone itself.”

  Lena handed the phone back to Longwood. “Take Jim’s statement. I’ll talk with the DA. See if we can get a case together.” Lena turned to Longwood, wobbling on two shaking legs. “Remember, play it close to the vest. No one else can know.”

  Longwood nodded, and just before he was out of ear shot, she called after him, jogging to catch up. “Hey, have you heard anything on Nick?”

  “No, both he and the deputy that was instructed to take him to Bismarck are missing.” Longwood placed a hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about him though. I’ve got a few guys on it.”

  “You don’t think—”

  “Jake had me check his alibi after Kaley went missing. He was getting drunk in a bar in Bismarck. Six witnesses.”

  “Right. Thanks.” When Lena stepped outside Jake was waiting for her near the back exit. It was odd seeing him not dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him out of it.

  “Anything good?” Jake asked.

  “Maybe.” Lena inched closer, lowering her voice. “If we get enough incriminating evidence against New Energy, then I could make a deal with them under the table. I think I might know someone who could help. Do you think you could go and talk with Kelly and see what she knows?”

  “I’ve asked her before,” Jake answered. “It was a dead end.”

  “See if you can’t try again. Jog her memory. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Lena turned to leave, but Jake called out to her.

  “Hey, did Longwood mention anything about Nick?”

  “Yeah, he’s still missing. Longwood has guys looking for him though.” Lena returned to her car, starting the engine. If she was going to get the leverage needed to force New Energy’s hand, then she needed a big fish, someone who could be bought. And she knew exactly who to target.

  “You told me there weren’t any loose ends on this!” Mr. Alwitz screamed through the speakers. The tantrum had lasted nearly an hour, and the merry-go-round of questions and answers remained the same. “How could have you fucked this up?”

  “There weren’t any breadcrumbs left behind,” Scott answered. “The official report I filed when we were finishing the land deals had both of us inspecting the perimeter of the property for new drilling sites. It doesn’t say anything about us leaving the compound. And if anyone wants to check the security footage in the area where we happened to be, they’ll find the video files corrupted.”

  “The security footage won’t mean jack shit if all those farmers start coming out of the woodwork! All it takes is for one of them to say something, and then all of a sudden they start sprouting like fucking weeds!” A crash thundered through the speakers, which sounded as if the phone had been thrown. A few seconds later Mr. Alwitz returned. There was still an edge to his voice, but he lowered his volume. “We need something more than just hoping the other farmers won’t talk.”

  “The majority of the farmers have already signed over their land. If they try to come forward now, it’ll look like they’re just hopping on the bandwagon,” Ken said, “which we could spin. The problem are the six farmers who haven’t signed over the deeds yet. Dan Lanks, who was the farmer who showed up at the press conference today, is one of them.”

  “I’ll pay them another visit,” Scott said. “Make sure I’m clear this time.”

  “Yeah, that’s a great fucking idea.” It slipped out before Ken had a chance to stop it. He paused a moment, but after overcoming the dread that accompanied Scott’s stare, he continued. “The only reason we’ve been able to stay alive in this fight has been public opinion and the promise that we haven’t done anything wrong. It was what you touted during the civil suit, it was what I’ve spun with the bill, and that shield is crumbling. We’re treading water right now, and the next wave that comes our way will sink us.”

  Mr. Alwitz paused. “So what is your suggestion, Ken?”

  “We don’t have many cards left to play, and this one will hurt us, but we can still control the story.” Ken took a breath. “We leak information that one of our oil riggers took matters into his own hands. Went rogue. We pick someone that doesn’t have a family. If they don’t have a file of documented warnings for aggressive behavior, then we forge some, and fast. We make him the face of the issue, but say that we’re handling it internally, and we give up the pursuit of the remaining six farmers’ land.”

  “We need those acres, Ken. This isn’t the solution I was looking for.”

  “Well, it’s the only fucking solution you’re going to get!” Ken’s cheeks flushed, and he backed away from the phone. It was lunacy. All of it. How he got here, his kid’s illness, the company. And the salt in the wound was he chose to be here. It was his own hell.

  “Scott, pick up the phone,” Mr. Alwitz said.

  A feeling of nausea suddenly took hold of Ken’s senses, and it only worsened as Scott locked eyes with him as he listened to Mr. Alwitz and nodded as he said, “yeah,” “uh-huh,” and “okay”. Chills ran down Ken’s back, and his eyes were suddenly at the door. He wanted to run. He wanted to hop on the next flight back home, pack up his family, and leave for Europe, permanently. He could find work there—his experience with so many different companies could open up doors in any industry. It was where Tommy needed to go for his treatments anyway. He could make it work. He just needed to leave. He just needed to get out before that creature got his hands on his family.

  “No,” Scott said. “They won’t find out.” He hung up the phone and stepped around the desk. “Prepare a press statement to go out this afternoon. It will deny any of the accusations made by any of the farmers, and we will provide all documentation necessary of the legal purchase of any land that New Energy has recently acquired.”

  “I’ll call him back to confirm in a little—”

  “No. I’ll be the only one in contact with Mr. Alwitz moving forward. Anything you need to ask him you can bring to me.” Scott picked up the picture of Ken’s family on the desk. He examined it for a moment then shook
his head. “Don’t make this harder on yourself.” He set the picture down and headed for the door, stopping when he had his hand on the door knob. “Do the job.”

  The door slammed shut, and Ken was left alone. Slowly, he made his way toward the desk and then collapsed into his chair. He reached for his laptop and opened a blank document to prepare the statement. He watched the cursor blink for a while, trying to think of what to say, but the words refused to surface. His eyes kept returning to the picture of his family.

  Scott snapped the laptop shut, stuffed it into his bag, and loaded the rest of his things. Wallet, passport, cash, car keys. He stopped to think of what he had at the apartment that he needed to grab, but there was nothing. He grabbed the picture of his wife and son. Family was all that mattered. And he wasn’t going to let these psychopaths hurt any of them. He may have gotten them into this mess, but there was still a chance for him to get them out.

  26

  12 Hours Left

  The main highway that led to New Energy’s property was void of traffic. The only movement was from the blades of grass on rolling hills that stretched to the horizon, gently blowing in the breeze. Less than twenty yards from the road was a larger hill, at least ten feet at its highest point, blocking anyone from view of the road. And that was where Lena had parked Mark’s car.

  Lena lay in the grass, alone, and raised the binoculars to her eyes. Through the rounded lenses she saw New Energy’s portables and refineries in the distance. When she lowered the binoculars she could still see the gas flare runoff on the horizon.

  Only a handful of cars passed, and none of them were Ken’s recognizable BMW. Brief moments of doubt crept back into her mind about whether or not he’d even drive by, but she pushed them aside. This was the only way to get him. The moment she walked onto New Energy’s property, she’d be kicked off. She checked the time. 10:00 a.m. She could afford to wait a little longer, but not much. If she didn’t see him soon, then she’d have to find someone else to persuade, and she didn’t think Scott Ambers would be swayed. Her phone buzzed, and she checked the number that flashed on the screen. “Hey.”

  “Where are you? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning.” Mark walked the fine line between upset and concerned.

  “I had to go over a few things with Jake.” Lena peered through the binoculars. Her pulse quickened at the sight of a black sedan but then slowed once she confirmed it wasn’t Ken’s BMW.

  “How’s he holding up?”

  “He’s all right.” Lena placed the binoculars in the grass then rolled to her side, noticing the pause on the other end of the call. “What’s wrong?”

  “What are we doing?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean what are we doing about Kaley? How much longer are we going to wait to make your announcement? What are the authorities doing to find her? We haven’t heard a peep from them, and your brother is the fucking sheriff!”

  Lena rubbed her forehead, unsure of how much to tell him. If events turned south, she knew as a lawyer that giving Mark plausible deniability was important. “I’ll give you an update on things when I get home. Okay?”

  “Why don’t you just tell me now?” The irritation in his voice was still present but not as angered. “Why aren’t you home?”

  “I’m just finishing up a few things.” They weren’t lies, but they weren’t the truth, and she already felt the twist of guilt sicken her stomach. But if things turned south and it meant giving the girls at least one parent after the dust settled, that was enough justification in her mind. “I’ll be home in a little bit. How’s Gwen?”

  Another pause, though this one not as long as the first. “She hasn’t really left her room. Or even said a word since last night. You need to talk to her.”

  Sunlight shimmered off a windshield on the road and stole her attention, and Lena reached for the binoculars, keeping the phone pressed to her ear. The car was speeding, which made it hard to follow with the magnified lens. She steadied her hand and looked for the emblem on the car’s hood. BMW. She jumped up from the grass and sprinted toward the car. She tore the door open and tossed the binoculars into the passenger seat. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

  Without waiting for an answer Lena hung up, started her car, and floored the accelerator. Her arms stiffened, holding the wheel as she felt the bumps and scrapes of the grass, dirt, and rocks as their vibrations rattled her seat. The speedometer tipped over forty, then fifty, the jolts running through the car growing more violent. She glanced down the highway, where Ken’s car was nothing more than a blip on the road.

  Dirt and grass flew from the undercarriage as Lena swerved onto the asphalt. Tires screeched, and the speedometer quickly jumped to eighty with the traction of the asphalt. Lena twisted her palms over the leather of the steering wheel, her eyes focused on the horizon.

  After three minutes Lena closed the gap on Ken’s sedan to less than ten yards. She swerved left to pull up behind him in the opposite lane of the two-lane highway, but Ken blocked her. She swerved right, and again Ken anticipated the move. They maneuvered back and forth, both keeping the NASCAR-like pace.

  A semitruck in the incoming lane blared its horn, and Lena veered back into the right lane. A rush of wind from the massive truck rattled her car, and the wheel jerked right, nearly throwing her off the road’s shoulder. She steadied and then floored the accelerator once more, the car galloping forward to regain the ground lost from the near collision.

  Lena’s vision darted between the road ahead and Ken’s sedan. The windows of the BMW were tinted dark, and Lena couldn’t see Ken behind the wheel, but she knew it was him. Her engine groaned, and when she checked the speedometer she saw it had tipped over one hundred miles per hour.

  Ken’s bumper grew closer, and she felt a light jolt when the two pieces of metal clashed. Her tires screeched, and the wheel shook violently in her hand, but she floored the accelerator and smacked him again. But still Ken refused to slow.

  Lena reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the pistol Mark had kept in the car after what happened to their family over the past few days. She rolled down her window and thrust her arm outside, struggling to aim in the whipping winds. When she finally had a bead on the driver-side windshield, she fired. Glass shattered, and Lena nearly lost control of the wheel from the recoil.

  Ken veered off the road, tires screeching as he skidded from pavement to grass. Lena turned a sharp right to follow. Dirt and grass flew upward in a whirlwind as both vehicles climbed one of the smaller hills and then sped down the back side, both cars slipping out of view from the road. The rough terrain ended the BMW’s speed advantage, and Lena quickly caught up, slamming into the back of Ken’s car.

  Metal crunched, and the quick white flash of the airbag accompanied a sharp snap across Lena’s face and a vicious pop in her chest. She felt her body jar from the collision, and suddenly everything came to a sudden stop.

  When Lena opened her eyes she saw steam and smoke escape through the cracks in the hoods of both cars. Spider-like webs crawled over the glass of Lena’s windshield. She unbuckled then shouldered open the door, which groaned as loudly as she did upon her exit. She wobbled unsteadily on her legs and then reached back inside the carnage of her car. She found the pistol on the floorboard of the passenger seat and aimed it at Ken’s driver-side door as she approached.

  Ken’s door squeaked and slowly opened. A polished dress shoe planted itself firmly on the grass, and bloodied knuckles gripped the top of the car’s roof as Ken pulled himself out. Blood trickled down his face from a gash on his forehead, and both his clothes and hair were disheveled.

  Lena aimed the pistol at him, needing both hands and arms to keep the weapon steady. “I know about the chemicals you’re dumping, Ken. I know you tried to cover it up. And I’ve got proof this time. So I want you to ask yourself how much you’re willing to tell me in order to stay alive.”

  Ken leane
d back against the side of his car, both arms splayed with no defense. “You want to stick it to New Energy?” He took heavy, labored breaths between words. “I don’t give a shit about them. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  Lena stepped close enough to place the pistol’s barrel against the side of Ken’s cheek. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that whatever he knew could help, but there was one thing she needed to understand. “Did you take my daughter?” She pressed the pistol harder, pushing through the flesh of his cheek until she felt the hard bone of teeth. “Because the moment you turn against them, they’ll give you up. You won’t be able to hide from it. So tell me now.”

  Ken trembled, his breathing still labored. “I didn’t have anything to do with your daughter’s disappearance.” The gash from his forehead dripped blood over his left eye, which he kept shut. “But you’re right about them coming after me the moment I blow the whistle. I’ll need assurances.”

  “You’re not in any position to make demands,” Lena sneered.

  “And neither are you!” Ken jerked his body right, putting some distance between his cheek and the pistol, which left a circular indentation from the pressure. “So let’s help one another.”

  “Do you know who took my daughter?” Lena asked.

  Ken paused before he answered. “No. But”—he held up a finger—“I think we both know who did. And I can give him to you. But I do something for you, and you do something for me. That’s how this is going to work.”

  Lena lowered the pistol. “What do you want?”

  “I want a new setup in Europe. Helsinki, to be more specific. Me, my wife, and my son. And I want it all in writing.”

  “I can’t guarantee the DA will agree to that.”

  Ken chuckled. “After what I tell you, the DA will agree to whatever I want him to.”