Read Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers Online
Authors: Diane Capri,J Carson Black,Carol Davis Luce,M A Comley,Cheryl Bradshaw,Aaron Patterson,Vincent Zandri,Joshua Graham,J F Penn,Michele Scott,Allan Leverone,Linda S Prather
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers
“He just wants to make sure I drive out there alone, and I will.”
“They’ll never let you,” I said. “There’s no way they’ll hand over the money and allow you to make the rules. That’s not how they do things.”
Cade shrugged.
“Doesn’t matter…they’ll have to. It’s my way or it’s no way at all.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Cade left without me convinced that letting the feds in on the situation was the best solution. He was sure they would understand once he explained everything. Cade’s version of “everything” would be telling them that the kidnapper knew who he was because he’d been working the case for the past several weeks…and that he was the only one who could do the drop off because the guy knew what he looked like. Cade had a way with words, but I wasn’t convinced it would work this time.
Cade expected me to stay put. He thought it was safer for the girls if I didn’t get involved, but taking orders had never been my strong suit. The kidnapper expected Cade at a certain time. He knew it would take him several hours to get his hands on the kind of cash he requested. He didn’t seem to know about me or my involvement in the case, and I wanted it to stay that way.
As soon as Cade left, I searched the Internet for Swanee Bridge Road. The map I found was a little less detailed than I’d hoped for, but it pointed me in a general direction. I scribbled down the directions on a piece of paper, grabbed my keys and my gun, and left. I drove until I reached a point where my cell reception started fading and gave Cade a quick call to check in.
“What a nightmare,” he said when he answered the phone.
“They aren’t letting you go alone, are they?” I said.
“Not a chance. They even told me I couldn’t go. Can you believe it? They were going to send one of their guys in my place and leave me out of it all together.”
“What did you say?” I said.
“I told them the kidnapper was calling me at seven o’clock and that if someone else answered, he’d know it wasn’t me. I also told them he knew what I looked like.”
“Nice job, liar,” I said. “Did they buy it?”
“I think so. They’re off in another room discussin’ it now. Where are you?”
“I stopped at the store for a couple things, grabbed a bite to eat.”
“If they let me go, and I think they will, I probably won’t be able to call you again until it’s all over,” he said. “They’ve been following me around ever since I got here.”
Perfect.
“I’ll be waiting for your call,” I said. “Good luck.”
Thankfully Cade was too preoccupied with the feds and all their minions to consider it odd that I’d so easily backed off, allowing him to see it through to the end on his own. I passed Falcon, opting for an alternative side road to turn on instead of the street the kidnapper suggested. According to the map the next road circled back at some point, leading me to the same place. I had to assume Eddie might already be there waiting. An alternate route was my best chance to go unnoticed.
The area around me looked like some kind of national forest. Several roads had no signage of any kind. Luckily, Falcon was marked with a wooden stake, its letters painted yellow. I passed it and took the next left, picking a cluster of trees and hiding my car behind them. I’d walk the rest of the way.
It took over an hour, but I finally reached the end of Swanee Bridge Road. The shack looked more like a one-hundred-year-old pile of abandoned wood. As for the window the kidnapper said he’d leave open—it was open all right—it was broken, shattered completely.
I took my time inspecting every angle of the area around me before taking a step closer. I listened for sounds coming from the house, for any sign of the girls or their abductor, but it was silent. The only noise I heard was coming from the birds in the trees around me. No one was there. Not yet.
I pushed open a wood door that had a hole where a handle had once been and looked around. There was nothing to the place at all. It was a simple, square room with no bedrooms and no other doors. It looked like there had been a kitchen at one time, but all of the cabinets had been ripped out. Some of the wood planks lining the floor were gone, maybe because of old age. I wasn’t sure. They appeared to have rotted and fallen through to the ground below.
In the corner of the room was a wooden box, the only accessory left in the place. I assumed it had been used for firewood at one time. I pulled the lid open and looked inside. There was still wood in it, but not a lot. I shifted a few pieces of wood around thinking insects would come crawling out of every orifice, but none did.
The box didn’t appear to be the most comfortable place a person could hide, and it wasn’t as sanitary as I would have liked, but I didn’t have much choice. I considered taking the wood out, but didn’t want to leave any clues that the box had been recently opened. Instead I turned the wood over splinter-side down, rearranging it into a smooth pile all the way across. Then I climbed inside.
I sat in a squatted position for two leg-numbing hours before I heard movement outside. The front door to the shack opened and footsteps walked inside. It was quiet for a moment and then a man yelled, “It’s empty.”
Another person said, “Let’s get in position before the sonofabitch gets here.”
Orders were called out, positions were assigned, and the door closed. There was a lot of rustling around while everyone got into place. Because the shack only consisted of one room, no one remained inside. I didn’t know if they were cops or SWAT or what. Jackson didn’t strike me like the kind of place that had a SWAT team on hand, and to call one in from Salt Lake would have taken time, even if they flew there. Wherever the kidnapper was, I hoped the presence of the FBI had gone undetected.
A vehicle drove down the path and parked in front of the house some time later. A car door shut. According to the time of my watch, Cade wouldn’t arrive for another ten minutes. The front door opened again. Someone walked in, closing the door behind him. He sounded out of breath, or nervous, or both. But he was alone. If it was the kidnapper, where were the children?
The man paced back and forth for several minutes, stopping only when a second car came to a halt. Cade. The car door opened and closed. I heard footsteps ascend the stairs and then the sound of something hitting the floor inside the house.
“I’ve set the money inside the window,” Cade said. “Now I’m walkin’ back to my car.”
“No you ain’t,” Eddie said.
Someone, who I assumed was Cade, was heaved across the room. “You lied to me,” Eddie said.
“I could say the same to you,” Cade said. “The girls aren’t here.”
“The address to where they’re located is on this piece of paper,” Eddie said.
I heard the sound of paper being rubbed together in someone’s hand.
“But you’re not getting it,” Eddie said. “We had a deal. You broke it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Cade said. “I brought your money—it’s right there.”
“But that’s not all you brought, is it? I said no cops!”
Come on, Cade. Keep it together.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“Do you think I’m stupid or somethin’? I know camouflage when I see it.”
Cade sighed.
“It was the only way I could get you the money,” he admitted. “I told them not to come, and they said they understood. I can still get you out of here as long as you tell me where the girls are.”
Eddie laughed. It was a low, husky, sarcastic kind of laugh.
“Out of here and back in prison,” he said. “Sorry, don’t think so.”
“You’ll be alive.”
“I’d be dead before I got out again. I’m not going back.”
“Then you’ll die.”
“Where’s your gun?” Eddie said.
Cade didn’t answer.
“I said where’s your gun, tough guy? Hand it over. Now.”
I wasn’t sure that now registered in Cade’s vocabulary. There was some movement and then the sound of something hard sliding across the floor. A gun?
“You make a move like that again, you’re a dead man,” Eddie said. “Don’t move.”
Someone walked to the window—my guess was Eddie.
“I know you’re out there,” Eddie shouted. “You hear me, assholes! It’s time I made a new deal. Get out of here, now! Or you’ll never see those brats again. You hear me?!”
During Eddie’s angry tirade I pushed the lid on the box open a tiny bit. My gun was drawn and ready just in case my timing was off. Thankfully, the man had his back to me. He was staring out the window, waiting for a reply. I peeked at Cade. He was sitting on the floor in a corner on the other side of the room staring right at me. The look on his face was hard to describe—it was a mixture of shock and anger. I waved. And then I realized how dumb it must have looked. He had a gun pointed at him, and I was waving and smiling like a blonde in a beauty pageant.
A minute went by. Then two. No one outside made any attempt to communicate. I assumed they were holding their positions, probably trying to figure out what to do. They hadn’t fired which meant they either didn’t have a clear shot or were waiting for visual confirmation of the girls.
Eddie walked back across the room, and for the first time, I had a decent view of him. He was big. The Paul Bunyan kind of big. No wonder Cade didn’t have the upper hand.
“I guess they don’t care about you,” Eddie said, “so the two of us are going to take a little walk. We can get out the back by going under the house.”
“But you’re surrounded,” Cade said.
The man laughed. “Not the way we’re going. Now let’s go.”
Cade stood up, looking Eddie in the eye. “No.”
“Then you’re a dead man. We go out together, or you die.”
Cade swung at the man, giving it everything he had. It was impressive, and for a moment I thought the man was shaken enough for Cade to knock the shotgun loose, until I heard the pump action of the gun loading the shell.
I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I launched out of the box and fired, twice. The first bullet clipped Eddie’s shoulder, stunning him, and the second hit him in the chest. Eddie didn’t have time to react before his massive body collapsed to the ground. Cade knelt in front of him. I lowered my weapon. My hands were experiencing some kind of spasm. I holstered my gun and rubbed my hands together. It didn’t help. And I knew why. I was fairly certain Eddie was dead or dying, and I’d never killed anyone before. I’d always wondered what it would be like and how I would feel after I’d done it. Maybe that’s why I was shaking. I wasn’t prepared for my own reaction. I thought I’d feel something more: remorse, regret, sorrow. But I didn’t feel any of those things. I felt nothing.
The outside of the shack was abuzz. Men were talking, heading for the door. I dove for the piece of paper that moments earlier had slipped from Eddie’s hand. Men ran through the doorway. Guns were aimed in my direction. After all, who was I and what was I doing here? Before the paper was ripped from my hands, I opened it, desperate to see what it said. But what I saw was my worst fear. The page was blank.
CHAPTER FORTY
I sat at the station waiting for Cade. It was morning, and it had been a long night. After the chief explained who I was and how I ended up there, I’d received an escort, in the back seat of a police SUV of all places. It was my first taste of what it felt like to be a common criminal, and hopefully my last. I was taken to an interrogation room and detained for several hours for questioning. The feds hadn’t found my presence amusing, not even a little bit, and they still didn’t know the half of it. In the end, I’d saved Cade’s life, but they didn’t care. They never did.
I was ordered to stay away from the case “or else.” If they only knew how involved in it I really was, I wondered what they would have said then. I was told I couldn’t leave town, not yet. They seemed to think they might not be done with me. But I was done with them.
Eddie Fletcher wasn’t dead. He was in critical but stable condition. When I fired my gun, I’d tried to wound him enough to give Cade the upper hand, but to keep him alive just in case the paper turned out to be exactly what it was: useless. The fact he was still alive gave us all something to hope for—not that it stopped me from running the moment I shot him over and over in my mind. If only my bullet could have wounded him instead of almost killing him. If only he could have told us where to find the children. If only the paper hadn’t been blank.