Death and Deceit (21 page)

She thought of how she used to feel about Kent. A few weeks ago she would have given anything just to have made something like this happen. She and Kent alone, spending the night together — but not like this. Not under the present circumstances with Jessie’s life, and maybe their own, in danger. Besides, she was over Kent now.

From the moment she’d met Alan, her crush on Kent had evaporated. She shuddered to think of what Alan would think of her if anything terrible happened to Jessie. The whole thing would come out and Liz would be held responsible. Even if Jessie was rescued, Kent now knew about the e mails. Jessie would never forgive her, and any chance she ever had of building a relationship with Alan was gone forever. This trek through the woods with Kent was for Liz a genuine effort to save her friend. A friend who would be no more once the whole thing was resolved, however it ended.
Liz stared at the darkened sky with the full moon perching just above the hills. Something howled mournfully. It almost sounded like the cry of a baby.

“What’s that?” she shrieked.

“It’s coyotes.” Kent replied. “Go to sleep, they’ll not bother us.”

Liz pulled the jacket around her shoulders and closed her eyes. She hadn’t realized how tired she really was. But the coyotes’ voices rose in spooky celebration from opposite sides of Liz’s ears. She opened her eyes again and stared into the huge moon as the animals answered one another. The eerie sounds shivered across the valley ringing like an instrument. The moonlight howling expressed Liz’s inner need and longing. And as the haloed moon climbed higher, and the coyotes sang in adoration, it was a yearning sound Liz knew and felt only too well. She thought of lost love, first Kent’s, now Alan’s. It wouldn’t be long until daylight, and she dreaded the day to come in so many ways.

****

Chief Alton Davis hunched over his huge desk and rubbed his eyes. Granted he
was rubbing the tiredness away, but a tear of frustration had also leaked through his hard persona. It had been a while since he’d heard news of Ricardo Alvarez. What the hell was he up to now? Davis grabbed the phone and punched in a number.

“Harbourside Police Department, officer MacNeil speaking.”

“This is Chief Alton Davis from Wakefield. I need to speak to someone concerning Ricardo Alvarez.”

“You got your man, Chief. What’s up?”

“What is
he
up to is what’s up. I just had a call that he might be holding someone
against her will. You know anything about his whereabouts?”

“He talked to me earlier...about five or so. Said he was taking some time off. That it was an emergency. I don’t know much more.”

“He been in any trouble lately?”

There was a pause, then MacNeil replied, “Don’t know. I don’t keep tabs on him.”

Davis stood and wandered around to the front of his desk. The phone cord was
wound around his pinkie. He paced. He was losing patience with this guy. “Hell,
he must have given you more than that.”

“It’s confidential, Chief. Unless you’re a relative or someone near to him.”

“Confidential! Just who do you think you’re talking to? This is police business. And hell, yeah, I’ve known him all my life. Got him out of trouble more times than I want
to remember. But I’d thought he’d straightened out. You know, grew up.”

“Alvarez is okay.” MacNeil sighed. “Okay, Chief, here’s how it goes. He said it
was a friend. A female. He was helping her out, getting her out of town for a while, something about a stalker bothering her. I don’t know anymore. I took his word and passed on the info — that’s all I can tell you.”

“All right. Thanks.” Davis hung up and grabbed his jacket off the rack. He
would meet his men at the motel. When that was cleared away, they’d go have a look at the cabin. If Ricardo was there he’d have some explaining to do. Next would be his own explanation to Kent Morgan, who for some crazy reason had kidnapping on the brain and
was spending the night hovering on the hilltop above Ricardo’s shack.

Memories of that little shanty played about in Davis’s head as he drove to the motel. It took him back in time, back to Christine Alvarez or Christine Gomez as he had known her earlier. A beautiful, dark-haired vision whom he had loved from the first day she’d let him carry her books home from school. They’d dated all through high school then Christine up and left town. When she returned she was a married woman. It wasn’t long until she was a mother.

Then the calls had started. Christine was in trouble, deathly afraid of her husband. The bastard couldn’t leave her alone, but in the end Christine would never press charges. Then there was the little girl to worry about too. For Davis knew, as well as he knew his own name, that the baby Christine held in her arms, little Julia, was his own flesh and blood.

Ricardo wasn’t his though. Christine had been faithful to the son of a bitch and gave him a son. The life they lived was pure hell, and Davis took the little boy under his protective wing. He had been proud of Ricardo when he made the police force. It made up in some small way for the loss of Christine and his daughter. He had never gotten to know Julia like he had Ricardo. She was wild and wary of the law, but he didn’t blame her. He knew that bastard had abused her too. It broke his heart to think of her now, lost to him, maybe lost to the world for all he knew.

Davis pulled up to Room 10 and entered. “What happened here?” he quizzed
his men.

Officer Mark Brady was writing a report and he glanced up at the chief. “There was a shooting. The manager says a police officer and a young woman took the room. Later the manager heard a gun shot. When he got to the room he saw a couple run across the yard, man and woman, but not the cop. There’s no blood, Chief. But there’s a rope on the bed. Looks like someone got tied.”

Davis thought it strange that Ricardo might tie up the lady he was helping. And
this scene tied in with Kent Morgan’s story. But why? How did it all fit? Maybe Morgan wasn’t too far off track. He didn’t want to believe Ricardo was in trouble, but he had a job to do.

“We’re going to the old Alvarez cabin. I got a tip he was the cop involved. Don’t
know the details, but there could be some more trouble. Are you just about finished up here?”

“We’re done, Chief,” the second officer confirmed.

Davis took a last look around the motel room. “Then let’s go,” he said.

****

Busy bees flitting amongst the wild flowers, and crows squawking at the sun rays were the first sights and sounds to awaken Kent. His body felt stiff and sore, and his jeans were damp from the morning dew. He stood and looked below. The cabin was separated from the darkness as a sunray, like the beam from a flashlight, landed on it. Then the surrounding trees came into detail as the sunlight spread across the land. He gauged the sun’s position. A half hour or less and the whole valley would be bathed in the morning sun. He combed the valley for some sort of life, some movement to indicate Jessie was down there. But there was nothing moving except the crows.
Liz had been curled beside him and now that he’d risen she rolled in a ball, hugging her knees. He stretched to loosen the kinks then bent to awaken her.

“Come on, Liz. Wake up.”

Liz groaned and opened her eyes, squinting in the rising sun. She looked disoriented for a minute then shook her long hair around, combing it with her fingers. It was peaceful on the hillside, and just dark enough below that the valley was a blur. The deep colour in the sky reminded her that day would soon prevail, blocking out the soft shading of reds and golds now prevalent at the horizon below the snarl of uneven hills. She yawned and hugged herself. “I’m cold,” she said through chattering teeth.

Kent reached for her hands and pulled her to a standing position. “Put the jacket on,” he said. “We have to move around a little. The grass is damp but the sun will warm you soon.”

Liz looked down at the cabin. “Anything happening below?”

“I just woke up,” he said. “It’s still gloomy down there. The sun has barely
reached the valley.”

Liz pressed her aching back then rubbed her hands together in an effort to promote circulation. She stepped in place in an aerobic exercise. “Where the hell are those cops?” she said in an exasperated tone.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Kent said. He stood looking down on the
valley, his hands on his hips. “I hope we weren’t sleeping when they came. It could be
all over down there.”

“Well, what do we do now? You should call them, shouldn’t you?”

Kent punched in the numbers and held the phone to his ear. Liz watched impatiently. “No service,” he said folding up the phone and placing it in his pocket. “They’re probably still on the way. The investigation at the motel probably took some time. The chief would have to fill them in on the connection between things there and what’s happening here.”

“Couldn’t he do that on the way?”

“Stop questioning me, Liz.” Kent’s irritated voice rose. “I told you, I don’t know
what’s happening. We just have to wait, at least a little while longer. If they don’t show up soon, maybe we’ll sneak down there and have another look. But it won’t be as easy as last night. We couldn’t be seen then.”

“All the more reason to go now, before the sun fills the valley.”

Kent hesitated. “I don’t know, Liz. We might be targets if we do that.”

“Shit. We’ll be targets if we wait. I say go now.”

“I say wait.”

“Then you wait.” She turned and started down the hill.

Kent thought of following her then figured if she got in trouble there was no sense of them both being discovered. Alvarez already had one hostage, he didn’t need them too. The cops would have enough trouble freeing Jessie. He and Liz shouldn’t get in the way. But she was stubborn and determined. He figured she’d get halfway, get
scared and return to the hill. He let her go.

****

Jessie slept fitfully, pain shot up her arms as she dangled unmercifully from a
swinging rope tied to an overhead beam. It resembled all the staging she’d ever seen in western movies of hangings, except the rope was tied around her wrists and not her neck. But she swung there none the less in mid air. Below her was the bare ground — far below. And a crowd of people surrounded her, all looking up — all dressed in pioneer clothing. All except two people, Kent and Liz. They stood in front of the gathering. Liz was crying and Kent looked horrified. The palms of his hands were pressed tightly against his cheeks, and he was pale, ghostly.

In the centre of the gathering a huge bonfire blazed, shooting out sparks that crackled loudly and rushed into the night air. Some landed on her, burning her skin. Then a man appeared. He stood on the landing just above her. He was dressed all in black and wore a mask. He carried a sword and flashed it across the night sky, then brought it closer and closer to the rope. Each swish through the air made Jessie flinch, for she knew when the sword struck the rope she would crash down into the raging fire, sending hundreds of burning sparks and cinders out into the night sky.

Suddenly the rope was severed and she was falling — but drifting peacefully — taking an eternity to hit the flames below. Two arms surrounded her and she opened her clinched eyes expecting to see the devil in black. But the arms filled her with such love and warmth she had no fear. And instead of the masked man holding her, it was Kent. They floated together above the crowd, above the flames. He held her gently to him and kissed her bruised wrists until they healed instantly before her eyes. His face was serene now with natural colour, not ghostly anymore. Then the excruciating pain returned and Kent disappeared. She fell...screaming...then sprang upward.

“What the hell...” Ricardo mumbled, jumping from his bed.

Jessie sat upright as much as she could in the handcuffs. One of her wrists was bleeding and she trembled, crying softly.

Ricardo, realizing she had been in a nightmare got to his knees before her. His
thick black hair was tousled around his face. “It’s okay, Princess,” he soothed. “You were just dreaming. Oh, look at your wrists.”

“Please,” she moaned. “Take the handcuffs off. I can’t go anywhere. Can’t you see?”

“Yes, yes. I see,” he said hurriedly. “I’ll unlock them.”

After Ricardo had put a damp cloth on her wrists, Jessie calmed down. “Please,
Rick, stop all this now. Drive me home and I’ll forget we ever met.”

He had been looking for food and turned from the cupboard when she spoke. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To forget we ever met. Well we’ve met and we’re sticking together. You’re mine now. Get it through your head, Jessica.”

Jessie turned her tear-filled eyes towards the window by the cot. She could see
the sun tipping the mountains and sending rays shooting across the valley. It would be
full daylight soon. It was probably four or five a.m. She ached from head to toe especially her wrists. They were raw under the cloth he’d given her, but she was thankful he’d finally removed the cuffs. Now she was free. Thinking frantically she wondered how she might plan an escape.