Illusive Witness

by S. Y. Thompson

  Ruth told her and could see the wheels spinning in Emma’s head.

  “But when I hot-wired the truck, I noticed it was almost empty. That means you had to fill up in Los Angeles.”

  “Right,” Ruth said enthusiastically. “I used my card so we would have cash for the rest of the trip.”

  EMMA SLAPPED A hand over her face. “You did what? I told you not to use the card.”

  “What’s the harm? Carlotti already knew we were there. Once we left Los Angeles, I only used cash.”

  Emma was already climbing out of bed and throwing on her clothes. Her side felt stiff from the stitches and she tried not to pull something as she moved. “We have to get out of here. I need to call Waild back and get a team out here to protect Terry. Does Laramie have an airport?”

  “Yes, of course, but it’s just a small one. What are you so freaked about? I told you I didn’t use the card after we left town.”

  Ruth’s innocence was almost unfathomable. Sometimes she seemed so intelligent and at other times, she just didn’t get it. Emma had shoved into a new pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her breasts unrestrained. She stopped without fastening the jeans and moved closer to Ruth, placing a knee on the bed so she could take her hands.

  “You are adorable, but if Carlotti doesn’t kill you, I might.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Emma kept hold of Ruth’s hands, even when she tried to pull away in anger. She hated seeing the hurt in Ruth’s eyes and regretted the thoughtless comment, but she had to get Ruth’s attention somehow. Only blind luck had saved them thus far.

  “Have you ever heard of security cameras?”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

  “Gas stations have security cameras that are easily accessed by any computer hacker. When you used the card, you sent out an electronic signal that focused Carlotti’s search to that gas station. Once that happened, he had a description of the vehicle we were in and the license plate. Traffic cameras all over L.A. would tell him our direction of travel.”

  She could see the panic in Ruth’s eyes as she searched for a way to negate all of this. Emma wanted to reassure her, but they had no time. If a federal judge followed procedure, it would take a few hours to release Carlotti from custody once the state’s witnesses didn’t show. A computer search tracking Ruth’s credit card usage and then a separate search for traffic footage would take even longer. At most, they had half a day.

  “But he couldn’t follow us once we left the city.”

  “Oh honey, he wouldn’t need to. You’re a well-known, professional golfer. Your biography is on the Internet. Even I knew you had an aunt that lives in Wyoming before you ever told me. Laramie’s airport might be small, as you say, but I’d wager it’s big enough for Carlotti to fly into on his private jet.”

  The pulse point on the side of Ruth’s neck began to pound. She released Emma and jumped out of bed, searching for her clothes.

  “What do we tell Terry?” Ruth stripped the pink pajama top with racing bunny rabbits over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  “As little as possible. If she’s not awake yet, we’ll leave a note. Tell her something came up and we had to go back to Los Angeles.”

  Emma threw a light jacket on over the T-shirt. It might look a little funny to wear a jacket in this weather, but it would conceal her shoulder holster. She finished tying her shoes and picked up the phone. She dialed an emergency number, listened for a tone and then typed in a code before hanging up. Ruth watched her carefully as Emma kept her hand on the receiver. Ten seconds later, the phone rang. Emma snatched it up before the sound had fully formed.

  “Marshal Blake here. I need to speak with Supervisor Waild.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  EMMA DROVE BACK toward Los Angeles. She kept looking in the rearview mirror, but hadn’t seen any sign of a tail since leaving Terry Stanton’s house an hour ago. There was very little traffic on the roadway since Emma had chosen to get off the major interstate. Taking the secondary roads would add some time to the trip, but hopefully keep them below Carlotti’s radar. Still, the wide open country of the Wyoming plains had her feeling jumpy. At least the mountainous trails would keep any pursuers from having such an unbroken view of their quarry. Supervisory Deputy Marshal Waild said he’d get a team in route to keep an eye on Terry’s house, but Emma prayed they wouldn’t be needed. Beside her, Ruth seemed as nervous as a cat in a sack. Her eyes kept darting around and her knuckles were white where they gripped the door handle.

  For some reason she couldn’t begin to understand, Emma continued to circle back around to Ruth’s outrageous plan. She didn’t like to admit it, but the idea had a little merit. She wished they could do something that outrageous. Their options were limited. Carlotti would get to Ruth. It was only a matter of time. That was something Emma just couldn’t live with. Ruth had claimed her heart the moment Emma saw her lying in a hospital bed with a concussion. She didn’t know if they had a chance or not, so soon after Ruth’s previous girlfriend, but Emma wanted to hold on to the possibility. The only way to do that was to take Carlotti down.

  The marshal’s service had full schematics on Carlotti’s house and the grounds. They were on file and a matter of record. Emma had obtained the layouts a year ago after Adder agreed to testify, just in case the service had to go in and take Carlotti down hard. Emma knew how to get into his office and could obtain the equipment to break into his safe. There were several serious flaws to that plan, however.

  Carlotti would still have security on duty when he wasn’t home. He used attack Dobermans on the property and employed a state-of-the-art alarm system. In the event that the power went out, a backup generator would ensure the alarm remained active. Ruth’s scheme also required they break in at a time of night when most people were still awake. That alone was enough to put Emma off. Then there was the fact that obtaining the ledger illegally would make it fruit of the poisonous tree. It would be just as inadmissible in court as any hearsay. There had to be another way.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  From her tense tone, Emma thought Ruth needed a distraction to help her stop worrying. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to think of a way to get us out of this mess.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “None good, at least so far. I’m still having trouble believing that Lyle was dirty, but if he was, then who else is? I don’t know who to call in other than my boss and he’s not a field agent.”

  “Does this mean you’re considering...what we talked about?”

  “You mean your crazy, outlandish, get-us-killed-in-a-heartbeat plan? Yes, but not the way you think. It just won’t work.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Give me a while and I’ll let you know what I come up with. Why don’t you try taking a nap?”

  “As if I could sleep.”

  Emma could sympathize with Ruth’s position. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep either, knowing that the head to a major crime syndicate wanted her dead. Forget wanted. Carlotti had actually tried...three times. Frowning, Emma considered that reality. Franco Carlotti didn’t typically surround himself with ineptitude and Ruth had no experience with this type of life-threatening drama.

  Carlotti’s assassin, Jordan Pierce, had screwed the pooch on the first go around when Ruth survived the climbing accident. But why get Ruth’s chauffeur involved? Jordan could have given Ruth a lethal injection at the hospital and made her death look like natural causes. As far as Ruth’s assertions that Carlotti had no reason to kill her, Emma disagreed. Any cat would slap down the intrusive mouse if there was even a possibility that they’d steal the cheese. Ruth was just in the wrong place at the right time when she went climbing with her friend. The only thing out of place was Silas. It didn’t make any damned sense to use an inexperienced hit man, not even to settle a very high gambling debt.

  In the end, he had used Jordan again and
it had cost her life. Emma felt a twinge in her stomach and recognized the sensation as bone-chilling dread. When Carlotti found out Ruth had killed Jordan, and he would find out, the gloves would come off. He’d kill Ruth himself, reveling in the slickness of her blood on his skin.

  Emma didn’t care that the mobster had no convictions. His juvenile record spoke volumes about his character. Mentally reviewing that unsealed record as she drove, Emma easily recalled charges that began with torturing the neighbor’s dog. Carlotti had moved to breaking and entering and then assault with a deadly weapon, but he never did any time. A sympathetic judge ensured that.

  All the signs of an up and coming serial killer were there. Emma thought it a sure bet that he’d continued that evolution and fulfilled his destiny at some point. Carlotti was happy to order others to do his dirty work, but he was just as capable of personally eliminating a threat. There were certainly enough mysterious disappearances any time he became involved with a situation. The problem was in proving it.

  Without a body, where was proof of a crime? Suspicion and rumor weren’t exactly evidence.

  Frustrated that she’d just come full-circle in her reasoning, Emma snatched a quick glance at Ruth. Despite her assurance that she couldn’t sleep, Ruth’s head was propped against the window and her eyes closed. She appeared out for the count. Emma wanted nothing more than to gaze upon Ruth’s beauty, to run her fingers through the thick hair. Instead, she concentrated on the road.

  The innocence she’d perceived in Ruth the first time Emma met her had struck a chord. Emma had tried to keep her shields in place, but Ruth brought out a protective side Emma had proven ill-prepared to resist. She was accustomed to protecting all manner of scumbags. It was her job and she did so without emotional attachment, but Ruth was different. She slipped past Emma’s defenses without effort, burrowing her way into Emma’s...

  Emma slammed closed that line of thought. Yes, she cared for Ruth very much. She’d even admit to her physical attraction. Unfortunately, Emma didn’t think she had a chance in hell regardless of the desire she’d seen in Ruth’s eyes while they lay in bed together. Ruth wasn’t over Jordan and probably wouldn’t be any time soon, especially since she’d killed her. Maybe when all of this was over, Ruth would at least have dinner with her. Emma really wanted to believe that friendship would be enough.

  All of the emotions swirling through her had Emma in a quandary. Her driving desire to keep Ruth alive warred with her personal emotions. Coupled with that, Emma’s discomfort of being in the field without backup had her jumpy and on edge. She needed a distraction, even something as simple as a cup of coffee would help. Too bad she’d just passed a sign telling her the next exit was almost twenty miles away. Out here, there was nothing but two-lane roads, rattlesnakes and forty-foot high bluffs off to the northwest. They’d been steadily traveling up toward the base of a mountain leading to Medicine Bow National Forest for the last fifteen minutes and the quiet was starting to get on Emma’s nerves. All she’d seen was an occasional wild mustang and a scattered trailer or two. She wasn’t accustomed to all this open countryside. Give her the city any day.

  Emma glanced into the rearview mirror by habit and noticed another vehicle a fair distance behind her. As it had every time she spotted another car, her stomach did a slow roll and she briefly held her breath. She felt a tingle sing through her veins. Idly, Emma wondered if a person could run out of adrenaline. If so, she should be running on empty considering it had happened countless times already and they’d barely started their journey.

  She took a deep breath, attempting to slow her thundering heart with the assurance that other drivers had the right to be on the road. Despite her logic, she continued to watch the advancing vehicle. It closed distance quickly and Emma glanced down at the speedometer. She was going about five miles under the speed limit. From the way the other car flew up behind her, Emma estimated the other driver was doing at least fifteen over. She hoped they were just in a really big hurry.

  Remaining hyper-aware, Emma tensed further when the black SUV swerved into the on-coming lane and drew up alongside. She let go of the wheel with one hand and wrapped her fingers around the butt of her pistol. After unfastening the holster with her thumb, Emma held off on drawing the weapon from the shoulder holster.

  The SUV shot up the road until even with Emma and Ruth. Emma expected gunfire to erupt since Carlotti seemed to be such a fan of easily concealed automatic weapons. She laughed and put her shaky hand back on the steering wheel when she spotted the young men drinking beer and waving as they passed. Once beyond the Chevy, the driver swerved back into Emma’s lane and tore up the mountain pass.

  On a normal day, Emma would concern herself with their drinking and driving, but this wasn’t a normal day. She only hoped nothing happened to the boys or she’d carry the guilt with her from now on. From their perspective, she’d just given them a free pass and Emma didn’t regret that for a second. Her priority was getting back to the city as quickly as possible and hiding Ruth somewhere the bad guys could never find her.

  The engine of the stolen truck suddenly coughed and Emma felt the vehicle buck beneath them. Emma’s eyes flew to the dash controls. Most of the warning lights burned steadily, conflicting with the information Emma needed. That was when she noticed the odor. Something smelled hot, like the engine was about to catch on fire.

  Emma glanced at Ruth just as she awakened with a worried look on her face. Ruth didn’t show any signs of grogginess, seeming instantly awake.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think our situation just got worse.”

  The engine died before she could say anything else. Emma directed the Chevy toward the knee-high grass on the side of the road, relieved when they coasted to a stop off the blacktop. Steam billowed out from under the hood. Her peace of mind lasted briefly before evaporating like the steam in the wind.

  “Now what?” Ruth asked, unwittingly voicing Emma’s own concerns. “Try to catch a ride?”

  “I haven’t seen a lot of cars on this road so I don’t know about that.”

  Emma removed the key from the ignition, more from habit than worry someone would steal the pickup. She reached behind the seat and tossed Ruth her bag. Emotions of worry and confusion chased themselves across Ruth’s features.

  “This doesn’t look like the interstate. Where are we?”

  “Snowy Mountain Road. I didn’t want to take a major route.”

  Emma retrieved her backpack from the rear floorboard. She couldn’t meet Ruth’s eyes as she unzipped the bag and tossed a couple of bottles of water inside. Emma spotted the weapons Ruth had removed from Lyle Moore’s body. Waiting for the explosion she figured would soon follow, Emma chambered a round into the barrel of each in preparation of a confrontation she hoped would never come.

  “You see how well that worked out,” Ruth said sharply. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t steal an old heap. I told you to take the Mustang. Didn’t I tell you to take the Mustang?”

  Her voice was at such a feverish pitch that Emma’s ears hurt. She decided her hearing would survive better outside the enclosed cab of the dilapidated pickup. Emma opened the door, briefly checking the empty roadway before shoving it open and climbing out. Ruth’s reaction would be almost funny if not for their dire predicament.

  “We can’t stand here arguing, Ruth. Get your things.”

  Apparently, Ruth wasn’t quite ready to give up and follow sedately along with whatever Emma requested. “Why don’t we use our cells? You could call AAA or something.”

  “Not a chance. I told you we can’t use the cells unless it’s an emergency.”

  “I think this qualifies.”

  Emma snorted. “Not even close. First off, I doubt AAA comes out this far and I’m not waiting around with my face hanging out if Carlotti’s people come along.”

  “And second?”

  “There’s an exit about a mile up the road. With any luck, we’ll find
a pay phone, gas station and somewhere to get breakfast.”

  “Not with the kind of luck we have.”

  Emma ignored the remark. They had left this morning without eating anything and Emma regretted that decision now. They should have had breakfast and waited for the team Waild had sent to keep an eye on Terry. Ruth wanted to, although she had the good manners not to say so now. A deep-seated sense of urgency that told her time was running out caused Emma to over-ride that decision.

  “We’re just going to walk? Have you actually heard of rattlesnakes? What if someone comes along and plows into us?”

  “I should be so lucky,” Emma mumbled over her shoulder, already headed down WY-130 going west.

  “What?”

  Finally, out of patience, Emma spun back around. She was surprised to find Ruth less than six inches away, but kept the reaction hidden. “Ruth, I’m sure by now you’ve figured out how much I care about you, but I don’t have the time to coddle you just now. You need to cooperate. I’m not asking you to walk a marathon. It’s a mile. And unless you have super powers that I don’t know about, yes, I expect you to walk.”

  She set off again and, after a stunned moment of hesitation, heard the crunch of Ruth’s shoes against the gravel as she rushed to catch up. Emma’s head was on a swivel as they walked, looking for a carful of black or camo-clad hit men to drive up on them. She could see the exit in the distance when she heard the sound of a car engine approaching from behind. Emma glanced around quickly, thankful that sound traveled so far out here in the open. Ruth started as Emma grabbed her arm and shoved her down in the high grass.

  “What the hell are you doing? We might be able to hitch a ride.”

  Ruth tried to stand, but Emma pressed her back down. Emma felt her stitches pull, but gritted her teeth.

  “Stay put. For all you know, you’ll be hitching a ride with the people who are trying to kill you.”

  Again, the vehicle proved no threat. Emma watched a two-tone farm truck drive by. There was a single occupant. She had a brief impression of a thin, sun-baked man wearing a cowboy hat sitting behind the wheel. As he disappeared into the distance, Ruth gave her a scathing look through narrowed eyes, but didn’t comment.