Whispers of the Falls: Book one (Twelve Oaks Farm Series 1) (23 page)

Grant moved to the kitchen door and peered through the window. When Ralph Comer turned in his direction he motioned for him to come outside. Curious, Comer opened the door and stepped into the growing darkness. Not wasting any time, Grant and Josh each took an arm and propelled him toward the barn.

Comer dug in his heels. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“We have a few questions. I’m sure you won’t mind if we have a little chat.” Grant hoped he knew something. At the moment he was their only hope.

His lips hardened. “You can’t accost me like this. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in. I’m an officer of the law.”

Josh and Grant ignored his protests and dragged him inside the barn and dropped him onto the sofa. Grant pulled his pistol out of the waistband of his shorts. He pressed it to Comer’s forehead and threatened, “Tell me where Juan is.” Sweat pearled on the man’s head.

Josh tried to reason with Grant. “I thought we were just going to ask him a few questions. Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far? There is protocol to follow.”

“I don’t have time for protocol.” At the moment Grant knew he wasn’t acting rationally. All this was his fault. Juan was being held somewhere and he was scared and maybe even hurt. He didn’t care what he had to do to get him back. He pushed the pistol deeper against his forehead causing Comer to go bone white. “I don’t know where Juan is. How would I?”

“Oh, but I think you do. You’ve made several calls to Randal Collins. I think you know quite a lot.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Randal and I are friends. We hang out together.”

Losing his patience, Grant shouted, “Tell me where Juan is!”

Again Josh tried to talk some sense into his brother. “Maybe he’s telling the truth and he doesn’t know anything. Let the FBI question him.”

A shaky smile parted his lips. “You won’t shoot me. If you do, three FBI agents and my two comrades from inside the house will descend upon you. I’m not stupid.”

Grant grabbed the throw pillow from the arm of the sofa and placed it on top of Comer’s upper leg. He pressed his pistol into the pillow to use as a silencer. “I’m not asking again, start talking.”

Comer struggled to get up. He shoved and pushed at him. With his left fist, Grant struck Comer in the eye. His head fell back against the sofa. “Last chance to tell me the information I need.”

“Go to hell.”

Grant pulled the trigger. The sound was muffled by the pillow, but Comer’s screams were loud enough to wake the dead. He placed his hand over Comer’s mouth to stifle his screams as he writhed on the sofa.

Josh grabbed Grant by the shoulder and swung him around. “Are you crazy? Do you want to go to prison?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Comer bit back the screams and pressed his hands to the wound. Blood seeped through his fingers. “You crazy son of a bitch!” His breath shuddered out from the pain.

“You have no idea how crazy. I’ve been in Iraq and I’m suffering from some kind of post traumatic shit.” Understanding his brother wasn’t going to let up until Comer talked, Josh moved to the window and glanced out. “Do you see anyone coming?”

“No, Grant. Everyone’s still in the house.”

Grant grabbed the other throw pillow and placed it over Comer’s other leg. Again he pushed the pistol tight against the pillow. “Where is Juan?”

Gritting his teeth in pain, Comer pleaded, “Please don’t shoot me again. I don’t know anything. I swear I don’t know anything.”His eye was already swollen shut. It ticked when he looked at Grant with his only good eye.

“On the count of three. One, two, three.”

“Alright, alright.” He began to cry. It was an effort to understand his blabbering. “Collins has him at the Five Points Lounge in Raleigh.”

Grant patted the man on the face. “Now that wasn’t so bad was it?”

Through gritted teeth, Comer stuttered, “Go to hell.”

“I’m not finished with you yet. Who else is on Collins’ payroll?”

“Just me.”

Grant pressed against his wound causing Comer to yell out in agony. “I’m losing my patience?” Again, he pressed his hand against the wound but tighter this time. “I will ask one more time. Who else is on Collins’ payroll?”

Tears poured from Comer’s eyes. “Dan Harris.”

Grant released his hold on Comer’s leg. “You’d better be telling me the truth. I’d hate to have to come back and shoot your other leg.” He moved to the kitchen sink and washed the blood off his hands. “Is Dan Harris inside the house with Nina?”

Looking like he might pass out at any moment, Comer gave a weak nod. “He’s tall with black hair.”

“Josh, you find a way to get Harris away from Nina. Call Uncle Tate and tell him to meet me at Five Points Lounge.”

He was almost at the door when Josh shouted, “You can’t go alone. Wait and I’ll go with you.”

“There’s no time. Take care of Harris and follow.” With that said Grant raced across the yard and jumped into his car. He gunned the engine and sped down the mile long drive. Anger and adrenaline pumped through his veins as the beams from the headlights sliced through the night.
Hold on Juan, I’m on the way.

Chapter Eighteen

Josh flipped open his phone and punched in Uncle Tate’s number. No one answered. After trying him at several other numbers he gave up. In the end he decided not to call for help from anyone else because they didn’t know who they could trust. He called an ambulance for Comer instead. He hurried to the bathroom and got a towel for the wounded detective. When he entered the living area, Nina stood gazing at the injured deputy. She placed her hands over her mouth and whispered, “Oh, my God. What happened?”

“He had a little accident. I called an ambulance and it’ll be here shortly.”

Pale as a sheet, she stumbled farther into the room and sat in the chair across from the deputy. Josh handed the towel to Comer. “Put some pressure on it or you’ll pass out from loss of blood.”

He took Nina by the arms and pulled her to her feet. “Listen, Nina. I need your help. Go back to the house and ask Deputy Harris to come to the barn. Tell him you need to speak to him in private.” Still in shock she looked at him as if he had two heads. He gave her a gentle shake. “Pull yourself together. Harris is on Collins’ payroll.”

She took a deep breath, steadied herself. “Where is Grant? I saw him leave.”

“He’s gone after Juan. He knows where Collins took him. Comer told him where Juan is being kept. He was also working for Collins.” He gripped her arms tighter, brought her against his chest. “Listen, Nina, we are running out of time. I need to go help Grant. Please do as I ask and go get Harris. Bring him here. Grant and Juan need my help.”

As if in a trance, she walked to the door. She stopped and looked over her shoulder and peered into his eyes still not sure what to do. “It’s okay, Nina. Do it for Juan.” He worried her nerve would falter.

She opened the door and strode across the yard and disappeared into the house. Josh peeked through one of the slats of the blinds. Seconds passed before Nina and Harris emerged. Together they strolled toward the barn. Nina smiled as she carried on a conversation with Harris. She was strong and for that Josh was thankful.

He hid behind the door, his heart beating violently. If he made a mistake, Nina could pay with her life. Grant would never forgive him for involving her in something so dangerous. The door swung open, Nina stepped over the threshold, and moved to the middle of the room, out of the way. At the last minute Harris realized it was a trap and went for his gun. The moment the gun cleared Harris’ holster, Josh stepped from behind the door and shot Harris point blank in the back of the head. Blood spewed over Nina’s face and the wall. Knowing he didn’t have time to hang around and answer any questions, he sprinted toward his motorcycle. He had just swung his leg over when FBI agents and the one remaining deputy raced out of the house guns drawn. Even though he could hear someone shouting for him to halt, he started his bike and peeled out of the drive.

Still in shock, Nina stood staring at Harris’ dead body. It was as if she was having an out of body experience and none of it was real. In reality there was not a man bleeding to death on her sofa. A dead deputy was not lying on the floor of her barn. She would wake up in a few minutes and none of this would have happened. Juan would be playing catch with Grant in the front yard.

People stormed into the barn, all of them talking at one time. She didn’t understand anything they were saying. Beth pushed through the agents and deputy, wrapping her arms around Nina. “Are you okay?” She pressed her hands to her face. “You’re so pale.” Lacy shoved her way through.

One of the FBI agents jostled Beth to the side. “What happened? Who shot these men?”

She heard every word he said but felt it better she pretended she was too distraught to answer his questions. She didn’t want to get Grant and Josh in trouble. They could explain what happened. The deputy dropped down in front of Comer. “Who shot you?”

“Grant Wilson. The man’s crazy.” He reached out a trembling hand. “Let me use your phone.”

Nina screamed, “No, he is working for Randal! Don’t let him use your phone. You need to make sure he doesn’t notify anyone.” He could tip off Randal that Grant and Josh are on their way to save Juan.

“She’s as crazy as Wilson.”

Nina looked at the faces that swam in front of her. She didn’t know who she could trust. In the end she decided not to trust any of them. She tucked her arm into Beth and Lacy’s propelling them toward the door. Before they got to the house Maria ran outside with Shadow following at her heels.

****

The Five Points Lounge was closed. Grant sat in his car and watched as several customers tried to push the doors open. One woman pressed her face against the glass and peered inside. She hit the door with her fist before she and her five friends turned and crossed the street to find another place to party for the night.

Grant looked at his watch to find it was nine o’clock. He drove around back to the alley and saw Collins’ big black SUV parked around the corner of the alley so no one would see it. He parked his car, opened the trunk, grabbed four magazines and stuffed them in his pockets. Pistol in hand, he made his way to the back door. The windows were tinted black and he couldn’t see through them. He pressed his ear to the thick, metal door but didn’t hear anyone moving inside. He turned the knob and felt relieved when it wasn’t locked. He opened the door and stepped inside. He could hear voices coming from one of the rooms. He followed the sounds of the voices to a room near the back of the building. His heart was pounding as he peered around the corner. Collins and three of his cohorts were tossing bags of marijuana into boxes. Juan was gagged and tied to a chair in the corner of the room. His eyes were wet from crying. The look of terror in his face tore at his heart strings. Grant took a deep breath and stepped into the room. “Don’t anyone move.”

All three of Collins’ men went for their weapons. Grant shot one in the chest and ordered, “Don’t even try.” They froze. “All I want is the boy. Let him go and I’ll leave.”

Without one ounce of fear on his face, Collins replied, “Sorry, he’s my ticket out of here. I would have preferred, Nina but she was too heavily guarded.”

Grant’s finger twitched, he so wanted to kill Collins. But then he was in enough trouble for shooting Comer in the leg. “Just how do you think you’re going to escape with hundreds of FBI agents looking for you? Every airstrip within a hundred miles has been shut down.”

“My private plane is parked in a hanger not far from here. Even the FBI wouldn’t dare shoot down a plane with a young hostage aboard. I will not stand by and watch my empire crumble.”

Grant glanced at the boxes of drugs. “Is that what you plan to do? Take it with you.”

“What I can. This will hold me over until I can start fresh in Mexico.”

Tired of the conversation, he aimed the pistol at one of the other men. “Untie the boy.” When he didn’t move quick enough to suit him, Grant replied, “I don’t have any qualm about shooting you also. The way I see it, one more person the taxpayers won’t have to fit the bill to lock away.”

Grant held his breath when the man took out his knife. All he had to do was hold the knife to Juan’s throat. Thankfully he cut the ropes and pulled Juan to his feet. It took a few seconds for the circulation to return to his extremities. With his free hand, Grant fished into his pocket and handed him his phone. “My car is parked in the alley. Take it to the nearest gas station and call Josh. Tell him where you are and he’ll come get you.”

Juan dropped the phone into the pocket of his jeans. He rubbed his wrists where the ropes had cut into his skin. “What about you?”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine. Now do what I said!” When he hesitated, Grant shouted, “Now, Juan, get out of here!”

He turned and ran for the door but backed into the room, his arms raised in the air. A voice from behind him caused Grant to cringe. “Drop your gun.” His mind worked frantically to think of a way out of the situation. He had been in worse. “Don’t make me ask again. Drop your weapon or I’ll kill the kid.”

In three long strides Randal Collins stood by his side. He reached out and took the pistol out of his hand. Nothing would have given him more pleasure than to shoot him, but he would not risk Juan’s life. Grant turned and glared directly into the face of Matthew Collins. “The high sheriff is guilty of growing and selling marijuana.” With a lot of heat, Grant asked, “Which one of you is responsible for Shaw’s death?”

Matthew tilted his head toward his son. “I have nothing to do with Randal’s drug activity. In fact I had no idea he was growing and distributing marijuana.”

“Or the fact he had several of your deputies on his payroll?”

Matthew Collins drew in a breath. “That neither. My son has been full of surprises.” His eyes met his son’s and Grant saw the disappointment. “Still, he is my son and I will do whatever it takes to get him to a safe place where the law can’t touch him.”

“Including murder?”

His lips thinned. “Whatever it takes.”

“Your precious son didn’t even take in account that his actions would reflect on you. Your career is over. Seems he is not worthy of your support.”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “It does look like I’ll have to find another profession. No worries, I’m sure I’ll find something I enjoy.”

Grant turned toward Randal Collins. Though his stomach was jumping, he hoped to keep them talking to give Josh time to get there. The only hope he and Juan had were Josh or his Uncle Tate coming to their rescue. “Then I guess you are the one responsible for Shaw’s death?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions? I have worked for years to build and maintain a prosperous business.” His tired eyes were chilly and direct. Looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “It will take me years to rebuild what you have destroyed.” He sneered, “You will die for your part in ruining my life.” Eyes locked with his, Randal ordered, “Take him out back and kill him.”

Grant placed his hands in the air before Randal’s men laid a finger on him. “What about Juan? What is your plan for him?”

His brow creased. “I’d never hurt Juan. Nina loves him. As soon as I am safely in Mexico, I will make arrangements to have him delivered to Nina’s doorstep.” A dangerous light glinted in his eyes. “Enough talk. You understand that I must get going. I’m sure the FBI is on their way.” He grabbed Juan by the arm and jerked him to his side. “Kill him now.” 

Grant stepped out the back door and into the dark shadowy alley, Collins’ goons on each side. Little light penetrated from the street lights because of the tall buildings. Both men had their pistols pressed against his back. It was so quiet he could hear his own breath catching in his throat.

“Keep moving. We don’t want anyone to hear the shot when I put a bullet in your head.” He was shoved farther back into the alley where the stench of urine and trash was strong.

The sound of a motorcycle racing into the alley caught their attention and all three simultaneously turned to be blinded by a single bright light. One of the men raised his pistol to shoot Josh. Grant knocked the pistol from his hand, lifted his knee to give him a hard blow to his stomach, and followed with a down-swinging right while he was doubled over in pain. The sound of a pistol being fired had him fearing the worst. In his mind’s eye he could see Josh as they were when they were children playing army in the backyard. Pointing their toy guns at each other and making shooting noises with their mouths. If his brother died, it would be his fault for asking for his help. He would have to tell his mother he was responsible.

He kicked out his legs sending the other man to the pavement. To keep from getting hit by the bullet meant for him, Josh leaned over and dropped his motorcycle to the pavement. The motorcycle and Josh skidded across the pavement straight for Grant and the other two men. At the last moment Grant stepped to the side before the motorcycle slammed into Collins’ cohorts. Five feet from the bike, Josh lay motionless. Grant gathered the weapons of the two men now lying unconscious and loped to his brother’s side. He rolled him over but didn’t see any bullet holes. “Josh, are you okay?”

His brother moaned and his eyes flickered open. “I think so. I don’t think I broke any bones.” Grant offered his hand and pulled his brother to his feet causing him to moan even louder. “Remind me to never try that again.” He rolled his shoulders and touched his hand to his cheek where the pavement had scraped his skin. Blood oozed from his arm where the hide had been skinned when he slid. “Where’s Juan?”

“He’s inside with Randal and Matthew Collins.” He stuffed one of the pistols into the waistband of his shorts and gripped the other tightly in his hand.

Josh pulled his pistol from his chest holster. “How many men are we up against?” He opened the saddlebags on his motorcycle and pulled out a set of handcuffs. He cuffed the two guys on the ground to the motorcycle. Neither struggled since they were both out cold.

“Four. Be careful. We don’t want Juan getting shot in the crossfire.”

Pistols in hand, they opened the door and followed the sound of the voices. Crouched low, they stopped at the door and listened. After a quick peek inside, Grant turned to his brother and whispered, “Juan is sitting in a chair to the right.” A slight nod let him know he understood. “We go on three.” He held up his hand and gestured the countdown. When his third finger went up, they stormed into the room guns blazing. The spray of a machine gun had them both ducking for cover. Shots were coming at them from all directions. They could do no more than put their hands over their heads and pray. There was a lull in the assault so both Grant and Josh stood up and returned fire. Two men went down leaving Randal and Matthew Collins the sole survivors. Before Grant could stop him, Randal crawled his way to Juan. He pressed the gun to his temple.