The Whole Truth (34 page)
“I'm gonna give you one chance to tell me where that rifle's at. Then you and me and the lawyer there are gonna go find it together. Then I'll decide what to do with the two of you. Maybe I better just take you back. That'd look good, wouldn't it? Maybe they can mount the lawyer's head on the wall, right next to the moose. Huh?”
Laughing again. Enjoying drawing it out.
Steve's view of Bethany was obscured by Rennie standing in front of her. He was too big. Even if she got a shot at him with the knife, she might not be able to do much damage. At best a distraction.
Rennie gave him a quick glance, making sure he was still down. When he looked back at Bethany, Steve tensed his legs.
“I didn't hear you,” Rennie said.
“Over there.”
Rennie turned his head slightly to the left.
That's when Bethany struck.
Steve heard her scream and saw Rennie clutch forward, like he'd been hit in the stomach.
Steve pushed to his feet and drove forward with everything he had. Which wasn't much.
Rennie screamed. Then straightened up.
Steve took him from behind, jumping on his back and throwing a stranglehold around him. Steve could feel the back muscles of the big man, rock hard.
Rennie spun once. Steve hung on like a man holding a lamppost in a typhoon. The dog was going berserk. Rennie grabbed Steve's arm with his left hand. With his right he struck back with a fist. It landed on top of Steve's head like a dropped brick.
Steve pushed his head down, to the left side of Rennie's neck.
Where was Bethany? Where was the knife? Everything was whirling, Rennie grunting, dog barking, Steve feeling like he couldn't hold on much longer. A riot of confusion. He thought he might black out.
Rennie struck again with his fist. Weaker this time.
Then he put both hands on Steve's arm, pulling and scratching at it.
Rennie spun once more. Steve hung on. He'd managed to get his good leg, his right, wrapped around Rennie's body.
Rennie dropped to one knee. Then the other.
Steve had a good lock and knew Rennie couldn't breathe. Rennie's hands slipped off Steve's arm. He flailed back wildly at Steve.
Zeke the dog had moved from barking to something worse, a sound Steven thought he'd never heard before.
What hell must
sound like.
Rennie's arms dropped.
So did Rennie. Flat, face down.
Motionless.
Steve held on just to make sure.
Then he heard a guttural sound, a choking sound. Only it wasn't from Rennie. It came from the dog.
Steve looked up and saw the strain on Ezekiel's face as his legs pushed against the leather leash.
Which snapped loose from its mooring.
Snarling death charged his way like a bullet train.
There would be no way out. In the three seconds it took for Ezekiel to span the distance, Steve could only get to his knees and think
momentum.
He could buy a few precious seconds using the madness of the dog, the crazy instinctive charge.
When Ezekiel pushed off into the air, a canine missile, teeth bared, saliva slapping the sides of his mouth, Steve swung his right arm. At the same time he fell right. His fist landed on the dog's jaw, deflecting him.
Ezekiel thudded on the ground behind him. It would take him two seconds to regroup.
Steve twisted around, anticipating the jaws of death.
If only he had the knife.
The dog charged.
Steve put his hands out.
Ezekiel leaped.
Steve rolled left, hearing something crack, rolled over twice, and came up ready again for a strike.
Which didn't come.
Steve heard a wail of pain from the dog, and Steve saw the wet red stain on the side of the animal. Ezekiel lay on his side, moving his legs but going nowhere.
He yelped and yelped.
Steve was aware of someone behind him. Bethany, holding a rifle, walking toward him.
“That time I hit what I was aiming at,” she said.
Ezekiel cried out in pain and confusion.
Bethany walked up to the dog. “He's suffering,” she said, then put the barrel to the dog's head and fired.
“Hated to do that,” Bethany said.
Steve didn't know weapons, but the one she held looked like a state-of-the-art hunter's piece. He considered the two dead bodies and felt sorry for the dog. Ezekiel was just doing what dogs do, especially when they've been trained to kill. He was a victim of circumstances. He had no will of his own.
Then Steve considered Rennie and found himself wondering what lethal mix had been poured into the guy to produce such human waste.
Steve heard a strong buzz and thought it sounded like a bee. The mother of all bees looking for human flesh. A mutant, nuclear bee with a stinger the size of a nail.
Another buzz. Close. And then he knew it was a phone. Rennie's cell phone.
Somebody trying to get in touch with the dead man.
The phone was in Rennie's front pants pocket. Steve waited until the buzzing stopped, then flipped the cell open. Saw a number for a missed call. Also saw a low-battery warning. He punched 4 â 1 â 1.
“What are you doing?” Bethany asked.
“Got to move fast,” he said. He followed the prompts and asked for Verner, for the district attorney's office, and accepted a straight connection. Got the office's voice directory that gave him several options. He took 0 for reception.
A woman answered.
“I need to speak to Mal Meyer,” Steve said.
“Just a moment . . . Mr. Meyer isn't in, would you like his voice mail?”
“No. This is an emergency. For Mr. Meyer and for me. My name's Conroy and I'm defense counsel on one of his cases. I need to speak to him now.”
“I believe he's in court.”
“Does he have a pager?”
“Yes, but â ”
“Listen carefully, please. The case we're on is Cullen. You need to tell him that Cullen is dead. He's been shot. And his defense counsel needs to speak to Mal right away.”
“Oh my.”
“Did this cell number come through on your screen?”
“Yes.”
“Can you page him immediately and give him that message? Have him call me?”
“I can try right now. If you hold, I can put him on with you.”
“I'll hold. I don't have much battery left, so if you can hurry.”
“Please hold.”
He looked at Bethany, admiring her strength. What must it have taken for her to get out of that situation? What would become of her now, even if they managed to survive this ordeal?
“We need to hide these bodies,” Bethany said.
“That would be a good idea,” Steve said.
“I'll do it.”
And she did. As Steve waited on Mal Meyer, she went about her work as if she were cleaning up a yard. She dragged Rennie's body to where the floor of the lean-to had been. Then did the same with the dog. Then started reconstructing the lean-to.
The woman came on the line. “Mr. Conroy? I'm going to connect you.”
A click, then, “This is Meyer.”
“Steve Conroy.”
“I got that. What's this about, Cullen?”
“Listen, I don't know how much time I have on this thing. I'll explain everything to you, but you have to come get me. I'm on Verner Pass Highway, I don't know how far, but it's got to be close to the LaSalle place. I just killed one of them. But I've got a bum leg â ”
“Hold it. Killed? Killed who?”
“I'll tell you when you get here.”
“Me? If you're hurt we'll get an ambulance â ”
“No. Listen. This thing is breaking down around both of us. I don't want anybody in Verner to know about this. I need to get to a doctor. I need to get to one in another town. I need you to take me there.”
“I'm due in court in ten minutes.”
“Whatever you're doing, believe me it's not more important than this. You have to trust me on this one. There's going to be a hunting party out for me and the woman who helped me.”
“Woman?”
“Can you get out here?”
“Just take a â ”
Silence.
Steve looked at the LCD. “You're kidding me.” The juice was gone.
“Is he coming?” Bethany said.
“He didn't sound excited about it. He may alert the sheriff.”
“Is that bad?”
“That's bad.”
“What do we do?”
“We need to move,” Steve said. “Do you know a place we can hole up and still keep an eye on the highway?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still believe in God?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then pray. We can use all the help we can get.”
His leg was practically no use now. He dragged it behind him like a sack of wet laundry. He followed Bethany, who went before him like a scout. She carried the rifle with her. She said she had three rounds left. The morning was just getting underway, and he was on the run with a woman with a rifle.
What's next on the agenda?
“Here,” Bethany said.
She'd found a jut of gray rock. It provided a sort of prow over which they could see the highway below. It was a sharp drop of about twenty feet to the road.
Better, it gave them a view of where they'd come and a place to hide. Like some old cowboy movie.
Bethany went before him, up the rocks, and helped him. It was easier than he expected that way. He wouldn't mind having Bethany around in any sort of a pinch. She was doing the job.
Once ensconced in the rocks, Steve allowed himself a moment of rest.
“Now?” Bethany said.
“We wait,” Steve said. “If something doesn't happen in the next twenty minutes or so, we take a chance and flag a car.”
“I don't think that would be good,” she said. “They will be looking.”
“I don't see any other choice. Keep praying.”
She closed her eyes. It was so childlike. He hoped she really had some connection to the supernatural going on. Anything at this point.
A car approached. Steve looked over the rocks in time to see a red pickup zip by. Several more cars, in both directions, passed during the ensuing minutes.
None slowed. No one looked like Mal Meyer.
“I think we're going to have to chance it,” Steve said. “Let's try to catch one going toward Verner. If anyone from Beth-El was coming they'd be headed the other way.”
“We don't look too good.”
“We're going to look even worse if we don't get somewhere safe. You up for this?”
“I'll do what we have to do.”
“You could start by leaving the rifle. That may not invite too many stops.”
Bethany smiled. It seemed like a relief to her.
He heard the sound of a car horn. A laying-it-on-thick blast. Somebody angry. He looked over the rocks and saw a blue Mercedes burn past the curve, doing about fifty. Five seconds later a black Saturn came into view, going way too slow for the flow.
The driver's side window was down and Steve saw the anxious face of Mal Meyer, scanning the hillside.
“Stand up and wave,” Steve said.
Meyer knew of a hospital in the next county, about a twenty-minute drive, he said. That way they could buy a little time before deciding what to do in Verner.
At least part of Bethany's prayer had been answered. Steve was in a Saturn with a prosecutor, a captive audience.
“Now,” Meyer said, “tell me what this is about.”
“You're going to be a star, Mal,” Steve said. “Are you ready for the TV cameras?”
“I have a face for radio,” Meyer said. “What's this about killing a man? That's a little fact that interests me.”
“He's one of the guys from Beth-El. They decided to put me on the cooling rack. But I got out.”
“How?”
“That's going to take a little more time. What I need to tell you right now is that you have the chance to bring down Eldon LaSalle and his whole little empire.”
Meyer's mental gears clicked around. “Nothing would make me happier, but he's been around a long time and has his act together, at least legally.”
“Does that include hits on lawyers?”
“How can you prove this?”
“Bethany will testify to it. That's conspiracy to commit murder. She'll also testify to ritual abuse carried on up there.”
“Abuse of who?”
“Her. And the other women LaSalle keeps there.”
“Is this your only witness?”
“Me too.”
“You were their lawyer, weren't you?”
“I was, until they tried to kill me. I consider that a breach of the attorney-client relationship.”
“Still, they may be able to keep any statements you make about them out of a trial. You got anything else?”
“You've got probable cause to search the place. You can get a team together and go up and look for evidence of conspiracy. You can bring in a bunch of them and start with the questioning.”
“On what charge?”
“Weapons. Bethany here will tell you about the weapons. She doesn't think there's a permit to be had for any of them.”
Mal Meyer took a contemplative breath. “I can get a warrant, but I need it to be as specific as possible. If we're going after the big fish, we need a big net.”
“Then there's one other man you need to talk to. His name's Hendrickson. He works at Bruck's Mortuary. I have a feeling he knows a lot more than he's willing to tell. You feel up to pulling a bluff?”
“What kind of bluff?”
“Like on
Law & Order.
You know, where the cops say they have a witness against some guy and offer him a deal if he talks now.”
“I never watched that show.”
“You should. You'll be inspired by Sam Waterston.”
Meyer said, “Keep going.”
Steve put his head back on the seat. “You mind if we wait until I get this thing looked at? I'm feeling a little beat up at the moment.”