US Marshall 01 - Cold Ridge (21 page)

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Authors: Carla Neggers

Tags: #thriller, #Romance, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Photographers, #Boston (Mass.)

BOOK: US Marshall 01 - Cold Ridge
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Twenty-Eight

It wasn't much of a picnic area. Val edged forward in her seat, peering out at the rocks, the birch trees and evergreens, the two unpainted picnic tables in a small clearing. A sign said there were no facilities, meaning, she assumed, no rest rooms. No trash cans, either. She didn't know why she noticed such details, except it gave her something to do, something to focus on. She didn't want to think.

The mountains, every inch of them visible on such a clear day, rose up on both sides of the road-a notch, Hank had told her, was basically a pass in the mountains. Yet even with the perfect visibility, she felt claustrophobic, enveloped by the mountains, hemmed in. Probably, she thought, she wouldn't have made a good astronaut, after all.

She was done. Spent.
I'm in over my head…Eric…

She handed Hank the phone. "Call the police." Even to herself, she sounded exhausted, past the point of coherency, never mind logic. "I'm just playing into this bastard's hands."

He glanced at the readout. "There's no service here. I remember last fall we had trouble getting through- Carine and Ty stopped at a lake down the road."

"That's why the bastard picked this spot. In case I changed my mind, I wouldn't be able to call for help." She shoved the Glock at him. "Here, take it. You make the decisions. It's not loaded, but I think there's a clip in the glove compartment."

He shook his head. "You hang on to it." He pushed her hand back with the gun, then thrust the phone at her. "I'll wait here. You get to a house or a place where you can call."

"No! Hank, he wants
you.
"

"Exactly. Val-"

"You can't, Hank. This guy's not going to keep his word."

But Hank was determined-and very clear about his intentions. "I have to try to make the exchange. If there's a chance he'll let Eric go and take me in his place, I have to at least give it a shot. If nothing else, perhaps I can buy the authorities more time."

Val noticed how quiet it was around her. "I wish he wanted me. I can't-Hank, I can't let you do this."

"If you'd go, then let me go."

"He's not your son."

"Does it matter? He's an innocent fourteen-year-old boy who's caught up in something not of his own making." He brushed her cheek gently with the back of his hand. "Trust me, Val."

It was as if she was on a treetop, looking down at herself, a small, dark-eyed, stupid-assed woman who'd made too many mistakes in the past twenty-four hours. The past year.

She pushed open her door and climbed out,composed, as if she'd disassociated herself from her fear. "I'll call the police as soon as I can," she said. "Just stall for time, okay? Oh, listen to me, like I'm the combat veteran."

But something had diverted Hank's attention, and he leaned forward, looking out the windshield, then lunged across the seat at her. "Val-behind you! Get down!"

She dove onto the front seat, but she felt a burning pain in her left side even as she heard the shot. Hank reached for the Glock, but a white-haired man had his door open, a gun to Hank's head. "On your feet, Senator. My car's parked on the other side of the rocks. If you want the boy to live, you will do as I say."

Val could hear Hank's voice. "Understood."

"I won't have to kill him. Time and the elements will. He's a very sick kid."

"Eric…" Val tried to yell but nothing came out. She tried again. "Don't hurt-"

But she didn't know if she'd made a sound. She held her side, remembering that Manny had told her to apply pressure to a wound-and it hurt. God, it hurt. She could feel her own blood warm on her hands. She was collapsed face first on the car seat, could hear Hank getting out of the car. She couldn't think, couldn't really see.

"Val-"

Hank's voice. She held her side, unable to move but knowing she couldn't just pass out and die out here in the cold. Not yet.

The man with the white hair snorted. "Val Carrera is dead."

Twenty-Nine

A fourteen-year-old boy hiking alone would draw the attention of any alert hiker, North knew, but when he checked the main trailhead above the meadow, he didn't see signs of
any
hikers, never mind Eric Carrera. It was the off season, and conditions weren't great on the ridge. There weren't going to be many hikers out today.

North, however, had his doubts about Eric's note and didn't believe the boy was on an illicit hike to prove himself, to his father or anyone else.

He headed back to his place. First on tap was to try to reach Manny again, then call Antonia for any word from Hank and Val. And the police. Ty wanted to touch base with the local police
and
the Boston police.

But pulling into the driveway ahead of him was Carine's ancient Subaru sedan, which he'd last seen parked on her street in Cambridge. Ty rolled to a stop behind it and got out.

Manny Carrera unfolded himself from within the small car's confines and climbed out. "What a rattletrap. Doesn't she know cars don't run forever?" He rolled his big shoulders, stretching, but his eyes were serious when he focused on North. "I got your message about Val and slipped out of town. I'm not under arrest. I can go where I want."

"Manny, this isn't a good idea."

"If it was your wife, what would you do? I talked to Antonia about an hour ago. She said Val and Hank are on their way up here. I figured we could head them off at the pass, so to speak. I tried reaching you but didn't get through up here in the boonies."

"I was at the school."

Manny frowned. "The school?"

Ty's head pounded. "You don't-shit, you don't know. Manny, Eric's missing."

His friend had no visible reaction as he absorbed the news. "Talk to me, North."

"He left a note on his door. It sounds like bullshit to me-he says he's gone hiking. But he didn't stop at the school infirmary to take his morning meds. He could have forgotten-"

"He didn't forget."

"Or not bothered. He's upset. It's possible he just wants to prove himself."

"He's got nothing to prove."

"I know that. The police and forest rangers are on it. Conditions are tough up on the ridge-if his note's legit, he could have changed his mind about a hike and stopped at a coffee shop and had breakfast. Or maybe he went with Val, and she made him write the note for reasons we don't understand."

Manny thought a moment. He had on a black wool jacket, a lightweight wool sweater, jeans and cowboy boots. "Where are the Rancourts?"

"On their way to Boston. And Gary Turner's left, too. Supposedly. I don't know what's relevant anymore, but Gus-ah, hell, this sounds screwy." Ty looked up toward the ridge, which looked innocuous from his elevation. But he knew the winds would be bad above fifteen hundred feet, and fierce above the treeline. "Remember the survivalist from last fall? The police questioned him."

One corner of Manny's mouth twitched. "The chicken guy."

"Bobby Poulet. A few months after Carine got shot at, a man surfaced at Bobby's place with frostbite and a skin infection-Bobby said it looked like he was going to lose a couple fingers. Gary Turner's missing a couple of fingers."

"Christ. You people up here." Manny motioned for North, obviously ready to take action. "Come on. In the car. Let's go see what the story is at the Rancourts'. Shit's hitting the fan at the school because they lost my kid?"

"Major league."

"Good. He's got his EpiPen, his rescue inhaler?"

Ty nodded. "Looks like it."

"One bright spot. All right. If the Rancourts are there, I torture them for information. They've been holding back. If they're not there, I break in and see what's what."

"Manny. The police-"

"You can stay here."

North didn't hesitate. "We'll take my truck."

"Now you're talking." He gave Carine's rusting car a disparaging look. "I feel like Fred Flinstone driving this goddamn thing."

Manny's wry humor in a tight situation was legendary, but Ty knew not to underestimate his friend's focus. At this moment, his sole mission was getting to his wife and son. Nothing else mattered-and that, North thought, was where he came in. He couldn't let Manny cross the line. It'd never happened before, but the stakes had never been this personal.

"Did you slip out from under police surveillance?"

"They know I'm not their man."

Which didn't really answer Ty's question. He got in behind the wheel. Manny didn't argue. "You know the terrain." He gave a mock shiver. "Hell, it's cold up here. I always forget."

"Winds above the treeline-"

"Yeah. I know. Close to hurricane force. I listened to the weather station on my way up."

Ty pulled out onto the main road. "Your turn, Carrera. Talk to me."

It seemed to give Manny something to do while they drove. "Louis Sanborn's real name is Tony Louis Apolonario. Apparently his great-grandfather-"

"Was named Sanborn and owned a local dairy?"

"You figured it out?"

"Carine."

Manny smiled slightly. "She's got bird-dog potential, don't you think? I didn't find out until it was too late. The police have everything I do, by the way. Looks like Louis/Tony was involved in that smuggling ring we ran into last fall. The Canadian authorities were on to them, and the feds were closing in-then came the incident with us and Carine. They burned down the shack, their base of operations, and disappeared. Not nice guys. They were into smuggling guns, people, drugs. Whatever paid."

"You think Gary Turner's one of them? Makes sense. He started work for the Rancourts months ago, but after the shooting. Louis only started a couple of weeks ago-something there, you think?" But Manny didn't answer right away, and North sighed. "This wasn't in your log."

"My computer log? Val was on it?"

"Apparently she tried every password possibility she could think of before she called me.
I-l-u-v-a-l.
Christ, Manny."

He grinned in spite of his obvious tension. "I knew it'd stump her, keep her nose out of my business. I figured if things went south, you'd at least have enough to go on. I pumped a source for information."

"Nate Winter?"

Manny scoffed. "Are you kidding? A Winter as a snitch? I've never seen a more tight-lipped, closemouthed, stubborn bunch. No, another guy I know in Boston. It started really coming together Tuesday night, Wednesday morning. Then Louis calls me to meet him at the Rancourt house-fool that I am, I went. By the time I got there, he was tits up. Dead as a doornail."

"You didn't see Jodie Rancourt or whoever took those pictures?"

"Not a thing. I went outside to call the police on my cell. I should have seen Carine going inside and stopped her-"

"She's handling it."

"Then the cops were all over us. I knew I wasn't the killer. I was pretty sure Louis Sanborn tied back to the shooters last fall. I didn't know about Gary Turner-I thought he could be legit. I was more interested in the Rancourts."

"Because they'd hired Louis?"

"And me. That didn't make any sense, either."

"Did you know Louis and Jodie Rancourt were having an affair?"

"Suspected." He stared out the side window as Ty turned onto the notch road. "I thought the police'd sort it out. I cooperated with them. I put you on Carine. I shut Val out. I figured Eric was safe at school." He was silent a moment. "I guess my plan didn't work out that well."

But North's focus was up the road, where an elderly man had jumped out in front of them, waving them down, a Ford Taurus with Maine plates was parked crookedly in back of him. There was a second car-it had veered off into a dry ditch, its front end smashed against a granite ledge.

Ty pulled over, but Manny was already kicking open his door. "That's Val's car."

He was out of the truck before they'd come to a full stop and charged down into the ditch. When Ty climbed out, the old man, decked out in a winter parka, hat and gloves, was on him. "She was coming from the other direction and crossed right in front of me-I knew something was wrong. I think she must have had a heart attack or something. I didn't know whether to leave her and go call an ambulance."

Manny ripped open the driver's side door. Val fell out into his arms. Ty shoved his cell phone at the old guy. "Call 911. When you connect, give the phone back to me." He grabbed his medical kit out of the back of his truck and ran down to Manny and Val. He could see the blood on her front, mostly on her left side. He opened up his med kit, setting it on the ground. "What's her condition?"

"She's been fucking shot."

"Manny-"

"Airway, breathing, circulation are okay."The ABCs, the basics. "Skin's clammy, she's shivering-she could go into shock."

Ty grabbed gauze and moistened it with IV fluid, then thrust it at Manny, who immediately applied pressure to the wound. It was his wife-he didn't bother with protective gloves. "Abs?" Ty asked.

"Guarding."

They both knew that was a positive sign. Manny checked for bowel sounds in all four quadrants, then nodded, satisfied. They needed to get Val to definitive care, the sooner the better. The "golden hour" rule. Every minute care was delayed, the patient's chances of recovery dimmed.

Ty handed Manny an Ace wrap to hold the dressing in place. "You okay?"

He nodded, concentrating on a task he'd performed hundreds of times in simulations and missions. The training took over, and if he was going to panic in a crisis, Manny Carrera wouldn't have lasted as a PJ for twenty years. Ty helped him put in a saline IV and let it run wide open-Val had suffered enough bloodloss that she needed fluid or she might not make it to the hospital.

Ty leaped back up from the ditch and got a blanket out of his truck, and he and Manny laid Val on it and wrapped her up as best they could to keep her warm. Then they elevated her feet, to keep blood flowing to her vital organs.

"Val," Manny said, "what happened, sweetheart?"

"White hair, missing fingers." She tried to sit up, clawed at her husband's arm. "He has Eric and Hank."

"How long have you been out here?"

"A few minutes. Not long."

The old man handed the phone down to Ty. "I've got the dispatcher. There's a lot of static."

Ty nodded and spoke to the dispatcher, explaining that he was a paramedic and knew local procedures- they needed to get an ambulance to pick up Val and take her to the soccer field at Mount Chester, and they needed to get a medevac helicopter there to fly her to the regional trauma center.

Val rose up and hit Manny in the chest. "Goddamn it, leave me out here! Go find Eric and Hank! He'll leave Eric to the elements. Manny, he'll die-"

"Val-Jesus, how can I leave you?"

Ty got to his feet. "Carine and Gus headed up to check the east ridge trail near the Rancourt place. I'm going up there. Ambulance will be here in a few minutes. Val, you hang in there. You're going to be okay."

But her eyes were locked on her husband, her teeth chattering as she shivered, even with the blanket over her. "Go, Manny, for God's sake. There's nothing more you can do for me here. I'll be fine."

She sank back, her breathing rapid, her color not good. Manny looked up at the old man. "You'll stay with her? Apply pressure to the wound. She's not going to die on you."

Despite his obvious confusion, he didn't hesitate. "Of course. I'll do my best."

Manny kissed Val on the forehead. "You hang in there, okay? I love you."

She didn't answer, and Ty could see how hard it was for Manny to leave her. He didn't look back as he climbed up the steep wall of the ditch and got into Ty's truck. "This fuck Turner wants us. It's payback for last fall. He and Louis must have been in cahoots. We put an end to their nice little smuggling operation. He doesn't want Eric. He can have me. He used my wife- my boy-"

"Don't go there." North thought about Turner on the back deck with Carine, talking to her about the pictures, asking about having dinner with him sometime in Boston. "Hell, he wants Carine, too."

"She's up by the Rancourts? We need to warn her. That fuck's out here somewhere."

Ty pulled out onto the road. "Knowing Hank, he'll have this all sorted out by the time the police get there."

"Yeah. Damn pilots."

"It's going to work, Manny. I gave the dispatcher the lowdown. The cavalry's on its way. If we find Turner first, we isolate the situation until a tac team can get in there. Right?"

Manny didn't seem to be paying attention. "Don't you have a gun?"

"No."

"Val did." He pulled a bloodied Glock out of his waistband, then shook his head. "It's unloaded. No ammo. That woman."

Ty manufactured a smile. "This is why she works in a bookstore."

Manny looked down at his wife's bloody gun, his wife's blood on his clothes and hands. He glanced out the window when they turned up the access road to the Rancourt house and the east ridge trailhead. "So, what happens if Callahan's elected president-he gets a mountain named for him up here?"

And Ty relaxed slightly. Manny was with him.

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