Terry Odell - Mapleton 02 - Deadly Bones (40 page)

Not loaded? Good to know he wouldn’t have been shot, but given Hal’s apparent proficiency with a knife, Gordon thought he’d done the right thing by complying with Hal’s commands. “Is this the knife you poked everyone with?”

“Yes, siree. Had that knife since I went on my first hunting trip with my pop. He taught me how to dress and skin what he caught.”

Gordon wished he’d had a recorder on—or his cell phone—to document everything Hal had said. A lawyer would probably find a way to render Hal’s confession as inadmissible. But Gordon didn’t care. He almost smiled. How was
Marty
going to talk his way out of this one?

He accepted the knife as potential evidence, not as a weapon. Everyone knew you didn’t bring a knife to a gunfight.

“Chief, Buster’s in the car,” Solomon said.

“What the hell are we waiting for?” Gordon took the stairs three at a time.

In the living room, Vicky McDermott was sitting across from Fred, a recorder on the coffee table. Gordon shoved himself into Fred’s space. “Where’s Angie?”

Fred lifted his hands. “Like I told your officer. She’s waiting for Isobel.”

Gordon couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. “Where, Fred? Exactly where is she?”

“If I tell you, you’re gonna take Isobel away. I can’t have that.”

“Chief.” Solomon’s hand rested on Gordon’s shoulder. “Leave it. Buster will find her. I’ve still got her jacket.” He left, presumably to get the dog.

“One more thing. Fred,” Gordon said. “Where’s my stuff? Things will go easier if you return it.”

“Gun safe.”

“Keys?” Gordon said.

“Top of the safe.”

Gordon found the key, unlocked the safe, and retrieved his weapons, along with a box of shells for the Mossberg.

Fred scratched his belly. “You be careful out there. Marty can get ornery when he’s riled.”

“Marty’s out there?”

“Far as I know. He said he needed the girl.”

“For what?”

Fred shrugged. “Don’t know. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. He was already plenty riled.”

In the grand scheme of things, thirty-five acres didn’t seem like a lot of territory to search, but to Gordon, it seemed like thirty-five square miles. Once they were away from the house, there was nothing but trees and rocks. Rocks and trees. Deadfall to trip over. Gullies eroded by years of rain and snowmelt. And holes. Gaping holes, where Fred must have dynamited tree stumps or rocks. To make room for his garbage. Did he consider Angie a piece of garbage?

But Fred didn’t have Angie. The mayor did, and Gordon was certain the man had gone nucking futz. Probably started coming unglued when he heard about the bones. But now, he’d crossed the line.
Way
across the line.

Chapter 44

Gordon turned his attention to keeping up with Buster. The dog’s four legs let him cover terrain at a pace that had Solomon and Gordon huffing. With all the trees and hilly terrain, Gordon felt as though they had to have covered fifty acres by now. Didn’t help that his head hadn’t stopped throbbing, and every step intensified the pain.

An-gie. An-gie. An-gie.
He recited her name in his head, kept cadence with the rhythm of his steps, concentrating on his goal, ignoring the mounting nausea. He’d been concussed before, playing football. He survived it then, he’d work through it now.

Well ahead of him, Buster came to the edge of a ravine, not as deep, but reminiscent of the one Angie’s car had gone over. Solomon, ten feet behind Buster, hanging on to the leash, commanded him to stop. Buster tugged, barking furiously.

Gordon caught up, more winded than he cared to admit. And more nauseated. He leaned over, hands on his thighs, breathing heavily. “He. Have. Something?”

“Good news, yes. Not so good news, it’s down there.”

Gordon pulled out his radio and called the Emergency Response Team. They might be busy planning strategy, but he’d put his money on Buster. “We’ve got an alert from our search dog. I need bodies here. Now. It’s rough terrain, and it looks like she’s at the bottom.” He looked at Solomon. “Where the eff are we?”

Solomon grabbed the radio. He looked at a gadget on his wrist and started talking. Gordon took advantage of the brief lull to duck behind a tree and let the nausea win this round.

When he came back, Solomon offered him a bottle of water, minus wisecracks. Gordon sipped. “We need to get down there.”

“We need backup.”

“We’ve been following Buster’s route. ERT can travel in a straight line. It shouldn’t take them more than a few minutes to get here. They can back me up when they do.”

“Chief—”

“Solomon, shut up.” Gordon handed him the Mossberg. “For now, you’re my backup. Remember the code word. If you hear it, shoot.”

Gordon found a semblance of a path down the steep slope. He’d have shouted out for Angie, but knowing the mayor had been around, he wouldn’t risk it. Not that the noise he was making as he dislodged pebbles and small rocks could fail to alert anyone he was on his way. With luck, the mayor would think he was a deer. With more luck, a bear.

He crouched behind an outcropping of three large boulders, catching his breath and getting his bearings. To his left lay piles of loose dirt and gravel—evidence of recent blasting. From somewhere beyond that, the sounds of digging.
Clunk, scrape, scatter.
He raised his head to get a better view. From behind a clump of trees about thirty yards ahead of him, dirt flew. He drew his weapon.

The digging stopped. “Why don’t you join us, Chief? Many hands make light work.”

The mayor’s nonchalant tone froze Gordon’s blood. “Why don’t you join me instead? And bring Angie.”

“No can do. You want to see her, you’ll have to come here.”

Gordon hiked his pants leg and moved his backup piece to his pocket. “Let me talk to her.”

“I don’t think she can shout loud enough for you to hear her.”

“I need proof she’s there.”

“You don’t believe me? I’m crushed.”

Keeping an eye in the direction of the mayor’s voice, Gordon called out. “Then ask her what we had for dinner at her grandparents’ house.”

“You are becoming a bit of a pain, Gordon. If you’d listened to me from the beginning, none of this would have happened.”

“Ask Angie the question.”

Footsteps crunched on gravel. Gordon zeroed in on their location. Looked for cover between there and his position. Spied two trees flanking a small boulder. Rushed there. Dizzy. Stumbled. Slow breaths. Righted himself. Wiped sweat from his palms. Regripped his pistol.

“Spaghetti and sausage.” The mayor’s voice rang out from below.

Angie was there. Alive. A scream pierced the air.

Angie!

Gordon shook his head to clear it. Big mistake. Pain and nausea threatened to overwhelm him. A gunshot whizzed over his head, sending bark from the tree behind him flying.

What the—? The mayor had
shot
at him? Something sticky dripped down his forehead, into his eyes.

Gordon ducked. Clutched his weapon, steadying it in a notch in the rock in front of him.

He thought he saw the mayor. Did he have someone with him? Two figures danced in his field of vision. He wiped his brow. Squeezed his eyes shut. Opened them. No, only one. The mayor.

“Damn it,
Marty
, let her go. She’s not a part of this. We can settle this. Man-to-man.”

“Then stop hiding. Step out, hands up, weapons where I can see them. I’m sure you know the drill.”

Thinking only of Angie, Gordon held his pistol aloft and stepped from behind the tree. “Let her go.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Martin fired again, scattering more bark and shards of rock around Gordon. He ducked. Didn’t think he’d been hit.

“What part of ‘weapons where I can see them’ don’t you understand? Don’t think I don’t know cops carry backup pieces. Toss that one and show me the other. Slowly.”

Keep him talking. If he’s out here, he’s not hurting Angie.

“You also know cops never relinquish their weapons.” Each word he uttered sent another crashing wave of pain through him. He inched forward.

“I’m sure you’ll make an exception in this case. That is, if you want to see the girl in one piece.”

“If I don’t see her now, what’s the point? You know you won’t shoot me. You have to know I’m not alone. Let her go and we can work something out.”

“Get yourself out here,” the mayor shouted over his shoulder. “Show your cop friend you’re all right.”

Gordon held his breath.

Angie appeared from a cave-like opening in the rocks, her shirt blood-soaked. “I’m all right, Gordon. Do what he says.”

Before Gordon could react, the mayor reached behind him and grabbed Angie by the arm, and held her in front of him. A human shield.

“Okay, okay.” Gordon tossed his pistol into a tuft of grass a few feet to his right. He kept his hands visible as he crouched—wincing with pain as he lowered his head to reach for his ankle holster. A wave of dizziness nearly toppled him.

“You can’t win, Martin. Kidnapping, assault on a police officer? Give yourself up and things will go easier.”

“One stupid mistake,” Martin said. “Years and years ago. Everything was fine, all covered up—literally. Until that
damn
dog
found the damn bone. And you—you couldn’t leave it alone. Should have known better than to trust those half-wits to do anything right. Nothing gets in the way of your damn job.”

“You got that right,” Gordon muttered. His vision blurred. He blinked. Staggered. Saw Angie, her eyes broadcasting her fear. And her trust. “Damn it, Marty, you think this is some lousy game of
Scrabble
? Man up and let her go.” He made a mad dash for the mayor, prepared himself for a flying tackle.

From behind him, camouflaged shapes appeared from the trees, moving quickly and quietly. Seconds later, explosions assaulted his ears. Smoke attacked his eyes. He collapsed to the ground. A hand grabbed for his waistband.

“Sir, come with me.” The man’s grip left little room for argument.

Despite his protests, Gordon was half-pulled, half dragged up the slope. “Angie. She’s—”

“We’ve got a team taking care of that, Sir. You’re hurt. Paramedics are topside.” He wrapped an arm around Gordon’s waist, steadying him. “Be a shame if we went to all this trouble rescuing your girlfriend, and you did something stupid and got yourself killed.”

Gordon knew there was a counter-argument in there somewhere, but his brain couldn’t process it. The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the edge of an ambulance bay and Davey Gilman—only one of him, thank goodness—was shining a bright light in his eyes. He tried to jerk away, but the paramedic’s hand kept him from retreating. “Hey, Chief. Let me do my job. You’ve got a concussion.”

“I knew that,” Gordon muttered.

Gilman flicked off the light and handed Gordon an ice pack. “You know where it hurts. Put this there.”

Gordon eased the pack against the back of his head. “Can I go now?”

“Not yet. You’ve got a nasty scalp laceration. Might need a stitch or two. Hold still so I can clean it and butterfly it.”

“I’ll hold still if you tell me what’s happened to Angie.” For half a second, he thought he should ask about the mayor, too, but he decided his brain could only handle one thing at a time, and the mayor wasn’t it.

“Tom’s got her. She’s banged up a bit, but her vitals are good. You’re both getting the express trip to the hospital.”

Gordon opened his mouth to protest, but Gilman interrupted. “Close your eyes.”

Gordon hissed as Gilman cleaned his wound. “Shit man, that stings.”

“Oh, man up.” Gilman taped some gauze to Gordon’s forehead. “And stop squirming or there’s no lollipop.”

“Listen to the man.”

At the sound of Colfax’s voice, Gordon opened his eyes. Colfax, McDermott, and Solomon hovered nearby. Titch stood several paces behind, stiff-backed, as always. Two more of his officers, plus some deputies milled around.

Gordon strained to see over Gilman’s shoulder, to where the ERTs appeared at last. Two controlled a handcuffed mayor. Two deputies stepped forward and joined them. It was several interminable minutes before Reynolds and two more ERTs surfaced, Angie hobbling between them. She wore a flak jacket draped over her torso, only half-concealing the fact that above her waist, she wore nothing other than her bra and a thick bandage around her ribcage.

Gordon shoved Gilman aside, jumped off the ambulance, shouldered his way past the milling officers, and did the best imitation of a dead run his aching head would permit. He reached Angie’s side and grabbed her by the shoulders to make sure she was real. Reynolds and the two ERTs backed off. Gordon pulled Angie against him, tilting her face upward. Then, without another thought, he covered her mouth with his, sharing the deepest, most passionate kiss of his life.

When he couldn’t breathe anymore, he broke away from her lips, but refused to relinquish his hold.

She tipped her head back, her eyes glistening. “So this is what it takes to get you to kiss me in public?”

Applause and cat calls filled the air. Gordon didn’t give a damn.

Chapter 45

Gordon pushed aside his half-eaten dinner and reached for the television remote. When the doctor had insisted he stay overnight for observation, Gordon hadn’t put up a fight. After all, they’d said the same thing to Angie, and he felt better knowing he was in the same building, if not in the same room. They’d had time for a quick debriefing in the ambulance. She’d been waiting for Megan when Hal—although she didn’t know who he was at the time—had overpowered her. Hal and Fred had shoved her into the trunk of Fred’s car, and she’d ended up at Fred’s place.

After Hal had subdued her, the mayor had taken her to the woods, where he’d told her he needed her to lure Gordon to him.

“He was digging our grave,” she’d said. “But I knew you’d find me. I could
feel
it.”

“It was lucky I saw the necklace,” he’d said.