Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (26 page)

Since Andy had left, Jake had paced up and down the trail, stopping each time to peer ahead, then returning to sit on the bank and wait some more.

Finally, he heard the sound of a vehicle in the distance. He hoped it wasn’t the game warden returning for some unknown reason, and was overjoyed to see a mud-spattered, red pickup coming his way. The vehicle whined as it rolled over the rough terrain, spinning its wheels, jolting and jumping toward him.

He stood and waited until the truck ground to a halt in front of him, the driver side door opened, and a figure stepped out.

Jake’s heart fell as Bob walked around the front of the truck and approached him. What was the game warden’s nephew doing here? And where were the police?

Bob walked over to Jake, touched his worn-out baseball cap, and grinned. “Hey Jake. Thought I would find you here.” He offered a hand.

Jake shook the boney hand. “I’m waiting for the police. Did you see them on your way in?”

Bob wrinkled his face. “The police? No, I haven’t seen them. I’m looking for my uncle. Figured he might be round here somewheres.”

“Your uncle was here not too long ago. He’s on the way out now. You didn’t meet him coming in?”

“Nope. I just wanted to find him. There’re a bunch of rowdy campers a long ways back. I saw them fightin’ and drinkin’ and disturbing other campers something terrible. I thought maybe Uncle Andy should drop by and give them the heave ho.” He shook his head and frowned. “We don’t like to see that kind of stuff going on.”

Jake looked at the aspiring game warden in amusement. “You didn’t feel qualified to give them the ‘heave ho’ yourself?”

“If I had a badge maybe I could. But I ain’t got any authority.” He gave a crooked grin. “Tried it already one other time. They wouldn’t listen to me.”

Jake thought he understood why.

Bob scratched at a pimple and looked around. “So, what’s all this about the police? Something happen?”

Jake filled him in quickly with a few facts, leaving out the part about Rosie and the other backpackers. “My wife’s been missing since yesterday and everything I’ve done to find her has turned up a dead end. I’ve been waiting for the police ever since.”

Bob looked at Jake in unbelief, his mouth hanging open a moment. All he could manage to say was, “Sheesh.” He looked around uneasily. “Sure hope the cops get here fast. For the sake of your wife, that is.”

Jake hoped so too but said nothing.

“I met your wife when she was coming in,” Bob said. “She stopped at the store. Bought some snacks and stuff. Said she was coming here. I put two and two together and knew it was you. Nice lady, your wife.”

Jake wasn’t in the mood to exchange a lot of small talk, his concern for Annie being foremost on his mind. He would be more than pleased if the youth left.

“So, nobody knows who the dead guy is?” Bob asked.

“Your uncle took a look, and he didn’t recognize him. There was no ID on the body either.”

“Must be another camper. Sometimes they wander around, bring their dirt bikes and stuff.”

“There was no dirt bike there, and he didn’t look like he had been riding one.”

Bob rubbed at his chin. “Well, far as I know, there’s nobody reported missing in town. Small town you know. Word would get around real quick if there was.”

“Do you know if the police have access to any tracking dogs?” Jake asked.

“Don’t think so. They could send for some I guess. Far as I can remember, nobody ever had any call for anything like that round these parts.”

Jake wasn’t surprised at the revelation. When it came to the local police force, nothing surprised him any more. He pointed a finger toward Bob’s truck. “You wouldn’t have a rifle in there, would you?”

“Sure enough do.”

“And ammunition?”

“Yup.”

“I want to borrow it.”

Bob removed his cap and scratched his head. He looked at his truck, and then back at Jake. “Don’t know if I can do that.”

Jake leaned in a bit, glaring down at the youth. “I’m not asking.”

Bob stepped back and squinted up at Jake as if considering the demand.

Jake held his gaze.

Bob rubbed the back of his neck and stared at his truck. Jake didn’t want to press him too much—unless Bob made the wrong decision—then he would have to change the young man’s mind for him.

“Well, I guess it would be ok,” Bob said. “But if there’s a problem later, you gotta say it was your idea?” He waited for an answer.

“Whatever you say. I only want to borrow it.”

“All right, then.” Bob beckoned and led the way to his vehicle. He opened the passenger door, removed a rifle mounted above the rear window of the cab, and handed it to Jake.

Jake took the rifle and examined it—a semi-automatic with a fully loaded magazine.

Bob dug around under the seat, removed a box of ammunition, and held it out. “Plenty of ammo here if you need more.”

Jake put the box into his pants pocket and pointed off to the right of the trail. “Do you know anything about a cabin a couple of miles that way?”

Bob had removed a hunting knife from the glove compartment and was fastening it to his belt. He looked up and shook his head.

“That’s where I’m heading,” Jake said. “How much further does this trail go?”

Bob shrugged. “Not far. Maybe a half mile or so, then there’s no getting through. But it don’t go in the direction you want to.” He nodded toward the trail. “Goes to the left just up there.”

“Then I’ll have to hike it,” Jake said, and looked down at the young man. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Bob looked at Jake, then down the trail, then at his rifle. “Guess I best go with you,” he said.

~~*~~

THE HELICOPTER SCREAMED to a halt, flinging dirt and dust across the asphalt. The door opened and RCMP Sergeant Lance Brewer stepped out.

His cohesive team of tactical unit officers, wearing full camouflage and wielding assault weapons, streamed out behind him. The group of four was highly trained in the employment of specialized weapons, equipment, and tactical abilities.

With an armed suspect on the loose, and many bodies left in his wake, getting close to Lucas from the air was a risky proposition. With the help of aerial photographs, Brewer had zeroed in on the precise location of the target, and they would approach the cabin by stealth.

He wasn’t taking any chances.

The helicopter took to the air. Rather than block the highway, it would land in an empty field a little further on and remain in radio contact, returning when necessary. A car would be dispatched to escort their intended prisoner.

“This guy’s a cop killer,” Brewer said, his no-nonsense voice commanding immediate attention and respect from his men. “Emotions are a little high today, but let’s keep it professional. You all know what to do.”

Brewer consulted the aerial photographs. If Modesty was correct, and he had every reason to believe she was, the cabin where Varick Lucas was holed up was slightly more than two miles due east of their current location. There was some rough territory, but his men were trained to adapt to all types of terrain, locations, and weather conditions.

The cabin itself would be easy work. They could penetrate just about any barricade or stronghold, but they had to know what was going on inside. There was always a possibility of hostages, and the mobile thermal imaging system would aid them with that.

Lucas was undoubtedly armed, known to be dangerous, and any possible hostage situation, if not handled correctly, could soon escalate into a nightmare. Brewer had proven himself an expert negotiator, but wanted to avoid an armed standoff at all costs. The last thing he wanted was for civilians to be caught in a crossfire.

A car slowed as it approached the group gathered by the shoulder of the road, its occupants craning their necks. Brewer waved them on. Maybe they would find out what happened on tomorrow’s news, but right now was not the time for public relations. The car picked up speed and disappeared around a bend in the road.

Brewer watched his team finish last minute preparations—checking their weapons, donning protective gear, and readying themselves for the hike into the forest.

His team was ready. “Move out,” Brewer said, taking the lead. “Let’s get this guy.”

Chapter 56

Sunday, 10:59 AM

JAKE HELD THE rifle in his right hand, the safety off, ready to bring it into action at a moment’s notice. He led the way through the forest, Bob following behind.

He was uncertain what he would find. When he’d been to the cabin earlier, it was empty, but he fully intended to persevere this time. The boys were safe and he was determined to pursue Annie’s abductor wherever the chase might lead. All he had to do was find him.

Whether or not his quarry was armed, Jake didn’t know. Both of the known victims were killed by a knife, but he wasn’t about to rule out the presence of more lethal weapons.

“Ain’t never been in this area before,” Bob said from behind.

Jake stopped, turned around, and spoke quietly. “Keep your voice down. We have no idea where this guy is, and if he sees us first…” He didn’t finish the sentence. The implication was clear.

Bob looked uncomfortable and glanced around. He whispered, “You’re sure you don’t want to wait for the cops?”

“Look,” Jake said. “You’re free to turn around any time you want.”

Bob licked his lips. “I’ll come along.”

“Then keep it down. And keep an eye on our flank.”

“What’s a flank?”

“Just keep watch on both sides of us.”

Bob nodded. “Ok.”

Jake turned and continued on, careful where he placed each foot, keeping a close eye in all directions, ready to react to any potential danger. Maybe he should have left the young fellow behind; he wasn’t going to be of much use.

The occasional small creature of the forest rustled leaves on the ground or overhead, darting through bushes or rooting in the underbrush, and Jake paused each time, moving on only when he knew it was safe.

He glanced back at Bob. The youth was diligent about watching their flank. His head moved back and forth in a comical, rhythmic pattern. Jake wasn’t sure about the boy’s ability to be a game warden one day, but he couldn’t be worse than his uncle.

Branches slapped together in a sudden breeze causing Bob to jump, then grin foolishly when he realized what had startled him. Jake shook his head and continued on.

In a few minutes, the outline of the cabin became visible through the trees. Jake pointed and held a finger to his lips. Bob’s eyes grew large and the young man didn’t appear to be breathing. Then he swallowed hard, his eyes narrowed, and his hand dropped to the knife at his belt.

Jake became doubly vigilant as he moved to the edge of the clearing surrounding the cabin. He held up a hand of caution to Bob and listened intently. Other than the young man rustling his feet nervously in the leaves, no other sound caught his attention. Everything appeared to be the same as before.

Except one thing. Jake peered closer and his heart jumped. The padlock, now unlocked, hung loosely on the wide-open clasp.

Someone was in the cabin.

He turned back to Bob and whispered, “Someone is here now, so don’t move, and don’t breathe.”

Bob took a shallow breath and nodded, looking bug-eyed toward the building.

“Stay here,” Jake said, and paused a moment to make sure the young man understood.

Bob remained frozen as Jake crept across the hardened ground to the corner of the cabin. The shutters at the side of the building were still closed and locked.

He needed to take a look inside. He checked the rear window, but the shutters were secure, without so much as a pinhole to allow a peek into the building.

Jake weighed his options. He could wait until someone came out of the cabin before making his move, or he could barge in the front door with his rifle ready and hope for the best. He decided both options were dangerous and could endanger Annie—if she was in there.

He decided on a third possibility. He would find a way to draw Annie’s abductor out of the building, and then overpower him, either by brute force or by deadly force, whatever best insured Annie’s safety.

He returned to Bob and prodded him behind the trunk of a large tree, out of sight of the building. “I need your help,” he said to the trembling youth.

“Uh, ok. Sure,” Bob said, looking hesitant.

“I need you to knock on the door.”

Bob’s bulging eyes bulged even more. “Uh.” He licked his lips, swallowed, and blew out a long breath. “Are … are you serious?”

“Deadly serious.” Jake realized he should’ve used a different choice of words. “I have a plan that should work.”

“Should?”

“Will. It will work. Trust me.”

Bob swallowed again and nodded slowly. “Ok.”

“I’m not forcing you. It’s your choice.”

The youth’s head bobbed up and down. He took a deep breath. “I can do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yup.”

“Then let’s go,” Jake said, with a thumbs up. He moved toward the cabin and took up position to the left of the door, out of sight, the rifle ready. He had to do this right; he would only have one chance. Not only was his life at stake, but possibly Bob’s, and certainly Annie’s as well.

Bob stepped in front of the door and raised his hand, ready to knock. He bit his lip and looked hesitantly at Jake.

“Knock and stand back,” Jake whispered, offering the terrified young man encouragement with a nod.

Bob took a deep breath and stared at his trembling hand, then at the door. He leaned in and rapped twice, then stepped backwards and looked at Jake.

A muffled voice came through the door. “Who is it?”

“Tell him your name,” Jake said quietly.

“It … it’s Bob,” the frightened young man called.

The latch rattled and the door opened a couple of inches. Jake tensed and gripped the rifle, his finger tightening on the trigger, ready to make his move.

The door creaked fully open and Bob’s eyes bulged. He made a gasping sound, then turned and dashed away.