Nightwatch (15 page)

“Oh, yeah?” Mitch said, hoping he wasn't half as transparent in regard to the dispatcher. “Where this time? At the airport?”

“Nope. Closer in. Remember that old plating plant out on Highway Nine? Some hikers said they thought they heard a baby crying. Ridiculous, huh?”

“Yeah. Ridiculous,” Mitch said. “Thanks. Catch ya later.”

Ending the call, he stuffed the phone back in his pocket, shifted into gear, whipped the wheel to the right and floored the gas pedal. Tires squealing, his truck took off with a roar.

Jill braced herself and grabbed for his forearm. “What's wrong? Where are we going?”

“Just hang on and pray,” he shouted. “We can't follow the police, but nothing says we can't take a shortcut and get there before they do.”

“Where? Is it Megan? Did they find Megan?”

“All I know is they got another tip,” Mitch said, keeping his eyes on the road rather than chancing even a momentary glance at her. “There's more than one way
in and out of the suspected location. If Harlan and the others go at it from the front, there's a slim chance the bad guys may have a chance to get away. We're going to fix that.”

“It
is
Megan. It has to be,” Jill insisted. “This is our answer to prayer.”

Mitch hoped, with all his heart, that she was right. He figured, given their location at the time of the dispatch and his personal knowledge of the deserted site, there was a fair chance they had been granted the opportunity to take part in their own redemption.

That mattered far less than the ultimate safety of the child, of course, but for Jill's sake Mitch prayed that this tip was the one they'd all been waiting for.

J
ill was glad she had her safety belt fastened because even with that much restraint in place she had to hang on in order to remain fairly stable during the wild, bumpy ride along the rural roads.

“How much farther?”

“Maybe half a mile.”

“I don't see the police or sheriff's cars anymore. Are you sure we're headed for the right place?”

“Positive.” Mitch braked, slid the wheels and turned a tight corner onto a rutted, overgrown dirt trail barely wide enough for one vehicle to squeeze through.

“Where are we?”

“At the back entrance to the vacant factory. This access is not on any map.”

“Then how can you be sure this is it?”

“Because I used to play around here as a kid. I also inspected the premises for fire safety before it went out of business a year or so ago.”

She could tell by the way his knuckles were whitening on the wheel and his jaw muscles kept clenching that Mitch was not in the mood for more conversation.
That didn't stop her from having plenty of questions. “Is this where Megan is supposed to be?”

“Maybe.”

“Then why are we stopping?” Jill demanded. Her hands pressed the edge of the padded dash as if she could somehow make the truck keep moving ahead by sheer willpower. “Go!”

“All I intend to do is block this escape route so nobody gets away. Sit tight. We'll know more soon enough.”

“No! I'm not going to wait here while that poor little baby is in danger.” She unfastened her seat belt and reached for the door handle.

Mitch lunged across the truck. His strong hand clasped her wrist. Held firm. “No.”

“Yes.” Jill stared at him, refusing to back down. She could tell when he decided to capitulate. His expression told her. So did the fact that he released his hold and started to inch the truck ahead again.

She rubbed her smarting wrist. Mitch hadn't actually hurt her physically. Her pride was what was bruised. Nobody, not even her best friend, was going to stop her from doing all she could to rescue Megan. If Mitch thought he was going to be able to convince her otherwise, he was fooling himself.

Jill strained to listen by leaning her head out the open window. She could hear sirens in the distance but couldn't tell if they were actually approaching. There was too much echo, too much interference from the hills and valleys, not to mention the groves of old-growth oaks and a few sycamores and cedars that crowded in on the edges of the dirt trail.

Her breathing was as ragged as it had been when
she'd been chased through the forest behind her house. Her heart was beating rapidly, pulsing in her temples and making her head throb.

Peering ahead she searched for something, anything, that might tell her what she desperately wanted to know.

“Okay,” Mitch finally said, his voice so low she had to strain to hear. “This is the end of the line. I've brought us as close as I dare to the parking lot. If we go around that last corner up ahead we'll be spotted for sure.”

When he reached for her this time, his grip was more gentle. “Wait for Harlan, Jill. Don't spoil everything by bursting in and ruining the element of surprise.”

She knew Mitch was right. That didn't make waiting any easier. “I want to be there. I should be there when they bring Megan out. She's my responsibility.”

“We don't know for sure that she's even here.”

“She is. She has to be. God wouldn't have brought us this far if she wasn't.”

The look on Mitch's face was unreadable, although it seemed to border on disappointment. How could he be so negative? Had he given up? Surely not.

“Look, Jill,” he said quietly, “we don't know that this is God's plan. Just because we both want the Lord to use us to find her, that doesn't mean He will. Or that He has.”

“Where's your faith?”

Mitch tapped his chest with his free hand. “In here. I used to think that as long as I was a good Christian everything would always go my way. I found out otherwise. Bad things happen that we have no control over. You said it yourself when you were lecturing me about not blaming myself for failure.”

“That's different.”

“No, it isn't. What we personally want is less important than trying to figure out how to please the Lord. And stay out of His way.”

She wasn't buying Mitch's arguments. “Phooey. God gave us brains so we'd use them, not sit around waiting for the rest of the world to wake up and fall into line.”

Wresting her arm from his grasp she threw open the door of the truck and slid out.

Thick weeds and brush at the edge of the road were as high as her knees. Muddy leaves slipped beneath her feet. She almost fell before she was able to regain her balance, push past the open truck door and start to follow the road ahead.

Of course Mitch was right behind her. She was sure he wouldn't let her go alone no matter how upset he might be. Even when he was furious with her, as he surely had to be by now, she couldn't think of anyone else she'd rather have watching her back and protecting her from whatever menace they were about to face.

If Jill had not been totally positive she was doing the right thing she might have hesitated, but there was no doubt she belonged here. And, grumpy or not, Mitch belonged with her. In a few more minutes, when he was forced to admit she was right, he was going to be as thrilled as she was.

Gravel crunched ahead as heavy vehicles rolled over it. That kind of distinctive sound had to be coming from the parking area Mitch had mentioned. They must be very close.

Jill ducked behind a massive tree and listened. Car doors were closing up ahead but not being slammed
the way she'd expected. There were no wailing sirens, either.

Cautious, she stretched just far enough to peek around the oak, then turned and whispered, “The cops are there. I can see one of their light bars but it's not flashing. I think they're sneaking up on the building.”

“Good. Now we stay put 'til they get done.”

“It's okay. They can't see me.” Instead of heeding Mitch's orders she darted to a closer tree.

“Stop. That's far enough.” Mitch said. Following, he grabbed the back edge of her jacket and held on.

She was about to turn and give him the fiercest look she could manage when she heard a dull crack. Then another.

A metal door banged open at the end of the building. Men began to shout. The sounds that had been muffled while taking place inside were now clearly identifiable as gunshots. Varying pitch told her there had to be more than one caliber being fired.

Jill was yanked backward so suddenly she almost fell. Mitch pinned her to the tree, sheltering her with his body while the shooting continued.

Bullets impacted glass and metal, sending shockwaves through the otherwise quiet woods. The police cars were being hit! And she had been right in the line of fire before Mitch had jerked her out of danger.

She owed him her life, her well-being, and soon she would thank him. For the moment, however, she was too frightened, too shocked, to speak.

Eyes closed tightly, she was just beginning to appreciate the sense of protection Mitch's closeness was imparting when he abruptly left her.

She blinked and looked for him. He had stepped into
the middle of the road to block someone's path. Since it wasn't a police officer, it had to be of one of the fleeing criminals.

Instead of trying to evade Mitch, however, the man rushed forward and tackled him like a football player!

The shiny silver metal of a gun barrel flashed in the sunlight as both men went down.

Mitch made a grab for the hand holding the gun as they grappled and struggled.

Jill couldn't speak, couldn't even scream.

The gun barked. Twice. Time stood still. She thought she was going to be sick when she saw the darkly clad man push off, leap up and continue down the road.

Mitch lay on his back in the dirt, barely moving.

 

The gun battle on the factory grounds felt as if it had lasted forever. In reality, it was over in less than a minute. Jill supposed that was a good thing because she'd been holding her breath ever since she'd seen Mitch fall.

Mitch!
Her heart tugged her toward him despite the possibility of ongoing mayhem.

She came in low, then dropped to her knees beside him as he began to stir. “Oh, Mitch.”

His first words touched her deeply when he asked, “Are
you
all right?” She changed her mind the minute he added, “That was the dumbest stunt I've ever seen. I should have tied you to the big tree when I had the chance.”

Jill didn't know what to say. Argument was out of the question, mainly because she agreed with him. It wasn't much fun hearing that low an opinion of her intelligence, though, even if she did happen to deserve it.

She figured Mitch was probably as scared as she was in spite of his macho attitude so she put aside her rancor and offered him her hand. “I take it you're not wounded after all. Want some help?”

Mitch grimaced and got to his feet without aid. “I can manage. Did you get a good look at the guy?”

“Not hardly. He was in your face, not mine. Do you know who he was?”

“No. I didn't recognize him. Is the shooting over?”

“Sounds like it.”

“Then why are you standing here? I thought sure you'd be storming the place looking for Megan.”

“I—I…” Jill's head whipped around. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but when she'd believed Mitch had been shot, every other lucid thought had instantly vanished. “I was just going,” she finally decided to say. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” He was dusting himself off.

Waiting until he stepped forward, she hoped she was successfully masking her terror. Right now she figured she'd be fortunate to even walk, let alone reach the parking lot by herself, and it was her fondest desire to hide that weakness from Mitch.

To her relief, he took her arm. The mere touch of his hand on her sleeve gave her strength. Jill figured she shouldn't complain that he was glaring at her and wincing with almost every step. At least he was still there. Still supportive.

They paused before making the mutual decision to show themselves. The sheriff's car looked unscathed but several of the others sported fresh bullet holes and fractured glass.

Jill found the added energy she needed to cross the
lot and confront Harlan as soon as she spotted him. “Was Megan in there? Did you find her?” she asked, breathless.

“Nope. No sign of her.” He frowned, looking first at Jill, then at Mitch. “What are you two doing here?”

“I parked on the dirt trail in back so I could block it,” Mitch said. “Just in case y'all had forgotten there was another way out.” He was brushing more leaves and twigs off his shoulders as he spoke. “Some guy flattened me when he ran past us. Sorry I wasn't able to stop him.”

“You're lucky I don't arrest you both for obstructing justice,” Harlan said. He huffed and gave them a cynical look that reminded Jill of the way Mitch had looked at her. “I don't suppose you remembered to pull the keys out of your truck, did you?” Harlan asked with arching brows.

Jill's eyes widened and she saw the color drain from Mitch's face.

“Never mind,” Harlan said. “He'd probably have it hot-wired by now in any case. Go see if it's gone like I think it is. If so, I'll put out an APB and maybe we'll get a break.”

Penitent, Jill realized that the probable loss of Mitch's truck was as much her fault as it was his. Maybe more so.

She waited with the sheriff. Mitch wasn't gone long. The disheartened expression on his face when he returned was telling.

“Gone?” she asked.

Mitch nodded.

Harlan broadcast the vehicle's description and the general area where it might be by this time.

Jill stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. What a morning this had been.
And still no Megan.
Nothing else really mattered except finding that sweet little thing.

Jill's plummeting mood was not only because they had been disappointed by reality, it was also because she'd been so wrong about God's intervention on their behalf. She'd been positive that they were going to be there when the child was rescued. Positive. And where had it gotten her? Nowhere, except maybe onto Mitch's list of the most clueless people he'd ever known.

There was only one thing to do. She forced herself to smile as best she could and stepped directly in front of him. “I need to apologize.”

“Don't worry about the truck. It's insured.”

“It's not just that,” Jill insisted as she labored to keep the nervous quaver out of her voice. “It's everything. I might have gotten you killed back there.”

“Forget it. I'm fine.”

“Well, I'm not,” she said.

If she'd been certain that he wouldn't shove her away she'd have moved even closer, slipped her arms around Mitch's waist and laid her cheek on his chest. Unfortunately, his somber, brooding expression had not changed except to deepen and she was convinced he was still very upset with her.

Jill knew that her days of not caring how Mitch felt had long passed, never to return. She was also sure that it would be wisest to leave him alone and let him get over his anger in his own time. Convincing herself to back away from him, however, was extremely difficult so she simply stood there, mute and motionless.

Suddenly, the decision was taken from her. Mitch
put out his arm and shoved her to the side, pushing her behind him as if trying to shield her.

Looking in the direction he was staring, she was as shocked as Mitch. The deputies were bringing three men out of the building in handcuffs. Two were rough-looking strangers. The other was Thad Pearson.

“What are those men under arrest for?” Mitch asked the sheriff.

“Illegal gambling. Apparently there's been gaming going on inside for months. If we hadn't gotten the false Amber Alert we might never have stumbled on it.”