Dark Justice (46 page)

Who, unless Maureen missed her guess, would be the man driving the car with the flashing red light, headed this way.

“Be strong,” Maureen reminded her team. “We’re doing this for the forest.”

“And for Zak,” Al added.

Maureen nodded. She hadn’t meant to make this personal, but she knew that now, after so much treachery and violence, for many of them it was. “Don’t let them get to you. Don’t feel like you have to answer back. Don’t even listen. Stay cool. And above all else, remember—no violence.”

She watched as Sheriff Allen strolled toward the barricade of barrels and bodies. He passed through an angry mob of loggers, fourteen or fifteen of them, all killing time till they could continue the convoy.

Sheriff Allen glanced at Maureen. “You in charge?”

“For today,” she answered.

“You know this is a public road. These people got as much right as anyone else to use it.”

“They’re bringing in the means of destroying this ancient forest,” Maureen said calmly. “We can’t allow that to happen.”

“They’ve got permits,” Allen said. “I’ve seen ’em. The Forest Service has given them the okay to log in here.”

“The trees don’t belong to the Forest Service. They belong to humanity.”

“Well, ma’am, I’ll tell you something. I tend to agree with you on that score. But like it or not, these men aren’t breaking the law. You are.” He ran his finger along the brim of his hat. “I’m going to have to ask you and your friends to move along.”

“We’re not leaving.” She tried to keep her voice free from any ego or anger. It wasn’t a statement of defiance. It was simply a statement of fact.

“Well, you’re going to have to go sometime. You can’t stay here forever.”

Maureen didn’t answer. She knew they didn’t have to stay here forever. All they had to do was to stay long enough to screw up the logging company’s plans and burn up their budget. Time was money, and if they could keep the loggers idle long enough, they would eventually abandon this project.

“Surely you don’t think you’re going to outwait the logging company, ma’am. Hell, you folks’ll get hungry long before that happens.”

Again Maureen did not respond, but she reminded herself quietly that they all had candy bars and other easy edibles tucked in their shirt pockets or jackets—someplace they could get to them, even without the use of their hands.

“I’ve had as much of this crap as I’m going to take!” It was the hothead driver of the lead truck. He had close-cropped hair and was wearing a red cap that matched his shirt. “I’ve got a schedule.”

“I’m sure you do,” Sheriff Allen replied. “But that doesn’t change the situation any.”

“They put me in charge here,” the driver shouted. “If this job gets screwed, it’s going to be on my head.”

“Sir, please stay calm—”

“What the hell kind of cop are you, anyway?” The driver’s teeth were clenched together with anger and rage. “Aren’t you supposed to enforce the law?”

“What do you want me to do? Rip their arms out?”

“I expect you to do more than talk!”

Sheriff Allen somehow managed to maintain a calm, level voice. “The only way I see that we’re going to get through this barricade is to get some sledgehammers and take out these barrels. And we can’t do that now, after dark. It’s going to have to wait for tomorrow, if I can get enough men together, or Monday, most likely.”

“Goddamn it!” The driver yanked off his cap and threw it to the ground. “I’m so sick of these sanctimonious pricks screwing up our work. They think they can get away with anything!”

“Sir, please remain calm.”

“I’m sick of it. Sick! Sick of the law looking the other way. They’re not scared of anything. Because time and time again, they get away with it.”

Sheriff Allen reached out. “Sir, why don’t you come with me—”

The driver slapped his hand away. “Goddamn it, if you won’t put some fear into these people, I will.”

“Sir, please.”

The driver didn’t listen. He turned and went running back to his truck.

“Sir? I can’t allow—”

Allen’s voice was drowned out by the roar of the semi’s engine. A moment later, his headlights came on, glaring into Maureen’s eyes.

“Oh my God,” Maureen whispered.

She could see the driver’s face through the windshield, could see the crazed determined look in his eyes.

“No. Please no.”

Sheriff Allen ran toward the truck, screaming and shouting, waving his gun in the air. It made no difference.

The driver wasn’t listening. He was oblivious to outside interference. There was only one thing on his mind now—as he shifted into first gear and pressed down on the accelerator.

B
EN FELT HIS KNEES SHAKING
, which in turn caused his body to begin trembling. He willed his body to stop, but unfortunately it wasn’t listening.

“Pretty dumb,” Vincenzo said. His lips were curled in an exceedingly unpleasant expression. “Coming out to a dark alley alone.”

Ben took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting trouble.”

“You’re running around town accusin’ me of some murder, and you weren’t expectin’ trouble? You must be some kind of stupid.”

“I’m just a lawyer.” Ben was trying to keep his voice even, without much luck. Ben wondered how long it would take Vincenzo to cripple him. The time would be measured in seconds. “I’m trying to defend my client.”

“I got no problem with that,” Vincenzo said. The scar above his eye seemed to throb as he spoke. “But when you started trying to pin the rap on me, that’s when you screwed up.” He poked a finger in Ben’s chest. “Big-time.”

“I know you’re behind the new designer drug here in Magic Valley,” Ben said. Flapping his mouth could get him killed, he realized, but he had to try to get some information out of this man while he had the chance. “I know you had contact with Dwayne Gardiner.”

“Is that so?”

“And I know you went after my investigator.”

Vincenzo’s head twitched. “How is he, anyway?”

“He’s fine, no thanks to you.” Ben checked both sides of the alley. If only someone would happen by—like a cop. If only Christina would come zooming up in a getaway car to rescue him. But none of that was likely to happen. He was on his own. “What is it you want from me?”

“I want you to keep your mouth shut!” he barked.

“And if I don’t?”

Vincenzo stepped even closer. His head hovered just above Ben’s. “There is no ‘if you don’t,’ Kincaid. Either you stop talking about me, or you stop talking—period!”

“I have an obligation to my client,” Ben said, breathing fast. “I won’t back away from anything that might save his life.” He raised his chin. “So if you’re planning to kill me, go ahead and get it over with.”

Vincenzo’s neck and shoulders throbbed and pulsated. His face twisted up with rage. He looked as if at any moment he might boil over and explode.

Ben clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the first blow to land.

And then all at once, Vincenzo’s rage seemed to dissipate. He stepped away from Ben.

By the time Ben had his eyes open again, he was startled to see Vincenzo was laughing.

“Damn, Kincaid, you really are a tough customer, aren’t you?” He laughed again, then slapped Ben on the shoulder.

Ben was so surprised he didn’t know what to do or say. “Does this—does this mean you’re not going to kill me?”

Vincenzo shook his head and smiled. “Relax, Kincaid. I’m a cop.”

“No,” Maureen gasped, under her breath. “It isn’t possible …”

But it was. As she watched, horror-stricken, chained to the cement barrel, the man driving the truck shifted into first gear and started toward them. And he was only a hundred feet away.

“Stop!” Sheriff Allen shouted. The rain had picked up, and he and the loggers were getting drenched. “Stop right now!”

But the driver didn’t stop. Maureen doubted if he could hear over the roar of his own engine. And she doubted if it would have made any difference if he could.

Deirdre screamed. She was just to the right of Maureen, so the scream was piercing and startling. Maureen would’ve jumped a foot—if she hadn’t been anchored in place. Trapped like a fly in amber.

“He’ll stop short,” Maureen said, trying to calm the rest. “He’s just trying to scare us. He’ll stop.”

But he didn’t stop. He kept inching forward. Fifty feet, then forty, then thirty, gaining speed all the way …

As the truck careened forward, Maureen could see the expression on the face of the driver. He was wild-eyed, excited. Enjoying himself. And going faster by the second …

“No!” Deirdre shouted.

“Brake now,” Maureen yelled. “Now, or it’ll be too late.”

A moment later, they heard the sound of the driver hitting his air brakes. But the truck didn’t stop.

The front left wheels hit a slick mud slide, a road hazard created by the fresh rain. Despite the hissing of the brakes, the truck continued to careen forward, gaining speed from its own momentum.

Time seemed to slow for Maureen. Even though she knew everything that followed occurred in the blink of an eye, it seemed like a long, protracted horror, like a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

“No!” Deirdre shouted. “Please, God, no!”

Sheriff Allen, standing in front of the barricade, waved his hat and fired into the air. It did no good. The other loggers scrambled for cover, desperate to get out of the way. At the last possible moment Sheriff Allen dived to the side of the road.

Through the windshield, the driver appeared frantic. He jerked the steering wheel to the left, almost jackknifing the truck. But still the cab continued moving forward, coasting on the slick mud. It veered left, aiming toward the side of the road.

But it was too little, too late. The truck would miss the dead center, but was certain to clip the left side …

Where Doc was chained down between two cement barrels.

Maureen saw Doc’s eyes fly open, his lips part. But he was too scared to scream.

Maureen clenched her eyes shut. She did not want to see, and she didn’t. But hearing was almost as bad. She heard the squealing of tires, the hissing of air brakes, followed by the sound of a huge semi impacting on a man’s body, the sickening popping sound as the body was ripped away from its arms, the crunching sound as the body was ground under the truck’s huge wheels.

The horrible thud after what was left of the body was spit out the back and flung seven feet across on the dirt road.

“
Doc
!” Deirdre kept screaming, over and over again. “
Doc
!”

But there was no answer.

“A
COP?” BEN SAID
incredulously. “You?”

Vincenzo nodded. “DEA agent, actually.”

“But … but … I thought—”

“You thought what you were supposed to think. What we wanted you to think.”

“But Sheriff Allen said—”

“Unfortunately, Sheriff Allen isn’t in on this. I’m sure you can understand the need for secrecy. We haven’t told anyone who doesn’t absolutely need to know.”

Ben shook his head with amazement. “But if you’re not the one who’s spreading this new drug around town—”

“Who is? That’s the question I’d like to have answered, too. That’s the whole point of this undercover operation.”

“But the sheriff said you had a record.”

“I’ve been maintaining this undercover identity for over two years. It hasn’t been easy, either. It takes a while before the big boys will trust you.”

“But how—”

“This drug didn’t debut in Magic Valley. I’ve been tracking it for almost three years. Started on the southern West Coast, near the border. When I wasn’t able to trace it by conventional means, I went undercover—deep undercover. No one at the DEA or the Justice Department will acknowledge that I’m working with them, so don’t bother trying. To grab the attention of the boys I wanted, I had to sever all contacts and leave no trails behind. It’s been slow work, but I’ve finally managed to infiltrate some of the highest echelons of the mob drug racket. The boys who are making the junk, shipping it around the country.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because hard as I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to discover who’s been distributing the junk throughout beautiful downtown Magic Valley. And that’s important to know. Because even if I cut off one source, a resourceful distributor will just find another one. And Magic Valley will have the same problem all over again.”

“You think it’s someone local.”

“Not necessarily. But it’s someone here or someone who comes here frequently.”

“Any leads?”

“Leads, yes. Answers, no.”

“But—” Ben’s face was the picture of confusion. “If you’re really a DEA agent, why did you attack Loving?”

“I didn’t. I knew he was following me after I left Bunyan’s, and I tried to lose him. But someone else attacked him.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. If I did, I might know who the real drug dealer is.”

“But the next night, when you found him on the bench, you tried to kill him with a baseball bat.”

“If I’d wanted to kill him, I’d’ve killed him. I had the chance; I let him get away. All I wanted was to scare him—and you—so you’d get off my case. Unfortunately, as Chessway and I have both now learned, you don’t scare easily.”

Ben leaned against the brick wall of the building. This was more than he could really take in all at once. It was as if the world was changing right before his eyes. “Then you had no connection to Dwayne Gardiner.”

“I know he was using the drug. I don’t know where he got it.”

“Still, if you know he was using it, that sets up another potential motive for his murder. It just means the suspect is the real drug dealer, not you.” Ben stepped forward. “I need you to testify.”

“Sorry, Kincaid. Not a chance.”

“I’m serious. This is important.”

“I’m serious, too. No chance in hell I’ll testify.”

“A man’s life is at stake!”

“I’m aware of that. I’m also aware that hundreds of kids are dying every month because they get suckered into using this unsafe drug. Is your man’s life more important than all of those?”

Ben fell silent.

“I’ve been building up this undercover operation for more than two years, Kincaid. Two
years
. If I testify for you, my cover will be blown. Back to square one. And those kids will go on dying.”