What We Find

by Robyn Carr

  Where was Cal? Should she go find him?

  Maggie, Maggie, her mind asked. When was the last time you had to have a man to help you make a decision?

  Well, hell, Cal didn’t seem to be in possession of a gun and who knew if he’d ever fired one. He was a theme park employee!

  She grabbed a roll of duct tape out of the store. Maggie loved duct tape—it cured almost everything shy of an aneurysm. She’d even seen a maintenance guy slapping it along the leading edge of the wing of a 757 once! But, if she had the chance, she was going to tape up the hands and feet of two bad guys. She stuffed it in her pocket and went out the back door.

  She had several concerns, all of which had her marching with a shotgun toward the closest cabin. Sully. She couldn’t let him try to handle this—it could kill him. A few months ago she would have turned it over to him but not now. She could wait for Cal but something told her he might try to reason with her—make her wait. And she knew what was coming—law enforcement complete with a negotiator. They would surround the cabin and... She was reminded of an emergency case years ago, her last year of residency, the victim... Oh God, what they could do to that girl in the time it took...

  “What if they already have,” she said to herself.

  Then they won’t again, her mind whispered back.

  Oh, this was crazy. She stopped walking ten feet from the cabin to ask herself essential questions—could a frontal attack make this worse instead of better? They could shield themselves with the girl...but not both of them. She could shoot the other one if that happened. It could piss them off. Oh hell, they were already dangerous. My God, he bought snacks and liquor to enjoy while they did who knew what to that innocent girl! Maybe if the police, better equipped and experts in this sort of thing, had their chance, maybe no one would... But they weren’t expecting her. If the police and SWAT team surrounded that cabin, they’d have all the time in the world to plan how to defend themselves or hurt the girl.

  Then she heard Chelsea’s scream fade into a sobbing cry and Maggie couldn’t stop herself. She marched to the front of the cabin and gave the door a mighty kick right at the latch. When it didn’t open she gave it another right away and the door flew open. She fired a shot into the ceiling and it made an earthshaking blast, a thundering explosion. She barely had time to make out what was going on inside. One of the men was standing on the left side of the bed, crouched in a fighting position with that big hunting knife in his hand while the other was moving off the bed toward something—the gun was leaning against the wall in the corner. His pants were open and even though she didn’t see Chelsea, she shot the man with the open pants, shot him below the chest, dropping him screaming to the ground. Then she swung her shotgun wide to aim at the second man, racking up the next round, a scary sound.

  That’s when she saw Chelsea, crouched in the corner, her hands over her face. “Run to the store,” she said to the girl. Then to the man. “Put the knife on the floor or I’ll shoot you. Now.”

  He backed away, palms toward her. She glanced at the first man, crying out in pain, crawling toward the rifle. So she fired at the wall behind him and he scrambled away, back against the wall.

  “You shot me in the dick!” he screamed. “You shot me!”

  Well, that was fortuitous, she thought. She’d been aiming for his head.

  Chelsea whisked past her through the door and she heard lots of feet running. She imagined everyone within earshot was running toward her now.

  “Lie on your stomach, flat, hands stretched out,” she ordered the men. The one who’d been holding the knife did so immediately but the other one, crying, curled up into a ball against the wall. She racked up her last round. And then Cal was behind her; she could smell him.

  “Maggie,” he said. “Jesus!”

  “Protect the girl,” she said. “Take care of my father.”

  “Maggie, what did you do?” Sully asked from behind her.

  “I’ll explain after these two are tied up. Cal, there’s a roll of tape in my pocket—Stan and all the police in Colorado are on the way. Can someone please secure these men up so I don’t have to shoot anyone? Again?”

  * * *

  For a while there was the sound of grunting, heavy breathing and whimpering in that little cabin. Outside there was a lot of murmuring as campers had gathered around to see what was going on, though Maggie was not compelled to explain other than to say the police were on their way.

  Then after about five minutes of that the uninjured man began making excuses. “We weren’t gonna do anything. That girl come along of her own—you can even ask her! If you’d a just said something, we’d a been on our way. We got no cause to make trouble anywhere...”

  Maggie, still holding her father’s shotgun, snorted. “They used her father’s credit card in the store.”

  “She shot me! I’m dying,” the wounded man cried.

  “He’s not bleeding enough to be dying. And he’s not bleeding in the right places to be dying,” Maggie said.

  Cal rose from his job of binding the men. He was glistening with sweat and he was barely dressed; he must have just pulled on his jeans after his shower. Their weapons were tossed outside. One was bound facedown and the injured man was bound sitting up, leaning against the wall. He had splatters of blood on him but nothing serious. Maggie was not about to give him a checkup.

  “I’ll be fine if you want to grab a shirt,” she told Cal.

  “I’m not leaving you here. In fact, I’d rather you give me that gun now.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” she said. “I know how to use it.”

  “I got that message, honey,” he said, pulling it gently from her hands. “I don’t want you to use it too much, that’s all. Why don’t you go check on the girl. Sully and I will take over now.”

  “Thanks,” she said, relinquishing the weapon. “I’m worried about her. Will you two be all right?”

  “I got it,” Sully said, picking up the man’s rifle and checking to see that it was loaded. “Go ahead.”

  When she walked in the back door Chelsea jumped off her stool at the counter and ran to her, throwing her arms around her.

  “Honey, honey, it’s going to be okay. The police are on their way.”

  “My mom and dad?” she asked through her sobs.

  “I’m sure they’ll be notified and either come here or meet you at the hospital or police station. Are you hurt in any way, honey?”

  She shook her head against Maggie’s shoulder, crying.

  “Do you want me to take you over to the house? Do you want something to eat or drink?”

  She leaned back and shook her head. “I just want my mom and dad,” she said.

  Maggie pulled her toward the kitchen. “How’d you end up with those two, honey?”

  “They tricked me. One of them was crying for help right by the stream where I was filling my water bottle, and when I looked one of them dragged me down the hill with a hand over my mouth. I couldn’t even scream. I lost my whole pack!” She started to tremble and sob again, clinging to Maggie.

  “One of them used your dad’s credit card,” Maggie said.

  “It was in my pocket,” she said. “I’ve had it in my pocket since we were here. I used it to pay for stuff here. It was an extra—my mom had hers. My dad said hold on to it, keep it safe.”

  “When I saw that card, I knew you had been kidnapped,” Maggie said. “So—it did the trick.”

  “Did you really shoot that man in the...you know?”

  “Nah,” Maggie said. “I just shot him where I thought I could stop him and do the least damage. He’s fine, they’re just pellets. They hurt and sting, but he’ll live. He’ll need a few stitches and that’s all. He’s going to jail.”

  Finally, the sound of distant sirens. A helicopter neared. A few minut
es later there were cops everywhere, though Sully had called Stan to tell him Maggie had rescued the girl and that Chelsea was safe. Along with law enforcement they got fire and rescue and, as could be predicted, they made a mess of things with their big trucks and heavy equipment.

  It was completely dark but with a nice, big moon lighting up the property. And boy, were the police pissed at Maggie. She had specifically defied Stan’s orders.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Stan raged. “You could’ve killed somebody! You could’ve hurt that little girl!”

  “I took that into consideration,” she said. “If she’d gotten hurt I could still do some damage to them and get her out. But no one was gonna die from Sully’s old shotgun. Noisiest piece of gun in the West, I think,” she said. “Scared ’em. That’s what I wanted.”

  “You could’ve been killed! Those big old bad boys could’ve walked right through that shot and killed you dead!”

  “While I was doing my best, at least,” she said.

  “Leave her be now. She did what she had to do,” Sully said. “You gonna sit outside and listen to a little girl scream?”

  “It’s okay, Dad,” she said. “Let ’em get it off their chest. You can go to the house and rest. This has been a strain on you.”

  “You think I’m likely to miss any of this?” he said.

  “You could’a been killed, Maggie!” Stan persisted.

  “Yeah, but I thought there was a better chance they’d never anticipate me coming at them with a shotgun. So...look, I shot the ceiling, hoping to scare them and hold a gun on them until police arrived, but they were going for their weapons and I was without a choice.”

  From there she had to sit at one of the tables on the porch with her dad and Cal and police detectives, her interview recorded, while crime scene people examined the cabin where the shooting took place. They confiscated all the weapons, including Sully’s, the truck and everything else that belonged to the men.

  While the police made it very clear they did not approve of the action she’d taken, they also conceded that with one holding a knife and the other reaching for his gun, it was self-defense. They weren’t inclined to arrest her, but they did tell her to stay at the camp and not to leave without notifying Stan.

  “Are there any charges pending?” Cal asked the detective.

  “The file is not closed,” he answered. “But so far I haven’t seen any evidence that would warrant arrest. Still, the investigation is not quite over.”

  A while later a paramedic she’d known for about ten years, Conrad Boyle, Connie for short, came up on the porch. He grinned at her. “Nothing to worry about, Maggie,” he said. “Except the one that got hit? He says he’s gonna sue you.”

  “Tell him to get in line,” she answered somewhat bitterly. No good deed ever goes unpunished.

  “He’s gonna be fine. They’re twins, you know that? Burt and Bud. From the Wet Mountain Valley area, back in the hills. I’m just guessing, but I bet they’re pretty well-known back in those trees.”

  “Thanks, Connie.”

  “You need anything before we haul outta here?”

  “Got a Valium?” she asked.

  “I’ll have to check you, call ER, write it up. You don’t have one?”

  “Forget it, Connie,” she said. “After everyone gets out of here, maybe I’ll have a drink or something.”

  He grinned at her. “I don’t care what anyone says. Good on ya, Maggie. You probably saved that girl’s life.”

  “Thanks, Connie.”

  An hour and a half later, the grounds finally quiet, law enforcement and rescue gone, Maggie had a nice, hearty whiskey blend over a couple of ice cubes, out on the porch with Cal. Sully had gone to bed but she was still way too wired and spooked. She could tell that while the grounds were quiet, people were still awake. She could see the glow of fires in the dark night; she heard the gentle murmurs of talking. She wasn’t the only one afraid to close her eyes on the night.

  “Just one question,” Cal said. “What made you storm that cabin? Without help? Without backup of any kind?”

  She took a sip of her drink. “There was an emergency case I remembered. Years ago, when I was a senior resident in trauma...”

  It was a victim the police couldn’t get to. The apartment was surrounded by SWAT, uniforms, dogs, negotiators and medical. There was only one entry and it took hours while the suspect held the victim with a gun. After hours of trying, in an act of life-threatening heroism, one officer breached the apartment through a hole in the wall and eliminated the suspect. He was a young SWAT officer with a family who braved death to save an innocent. And he was too late.

  “Not only had the victim been assaulted for hours, she was critical from a gunshot wound to the head when they finally got in. She was pregnant. It was a tragedy of huge proportions and we couldn’t save her. I thought, maybe stupidly, that I had a chance in this case. I thought I might have to kill them to get Chelsea out but I also thought if I fired one round and they gave up, I wouldn’t have to kill them and maybe could save her before any more damage was done.”

  “You weren’t scared?” he asked.

  “Of course, I must have been.”

  “Don’t you even know?” he asked.

  She smiled contritely. “If I let being scared stop me from doing what I think I have to do, I wouldn’t get far. Would I?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “You were lucky,” he said. “You might be an ace in the operating room but in this, you were lucky. Let’s not do that again, all right?”

  “I hope to never do that again,” she said. “God, I must have gone mad. I don’t put the bullets in. I take them out!”

  Be able to be alone.

  Lose not the advantage of solitude.

  —Sir Thomas Browne

  Chapter 7

  Maggie became a legend. Word spread around the county in about thirty minutes. Phones must’ve rung through the night because Enid and Frank showed up at 6:00 a.m. and Tom Canaday wasn’t far behind them. There were others from near Sullivan’s Crossing—a couple of members of the search-and-rescue team, one of the deputies from Timberlake, the county postal deliveryman. For the love of God. Maggie was amused that they made her out to be some fierce avenging angel who swooped down on two giant, armed men who were holding a little girl against her will.

  As a bunch of locals gathered on the store’s porch, Sully tried to help. “This story might’ve got a little embellished here and there,” he said.

  “Did she kick in the door?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah, she did that,” Sully relented.

  “Blow a hole in the ceiling of that little cabin?” Enid wanted to know.

  “It was a shotgun so not a big hole, but there’s repairs to do,” Sully said.

  “And she shot one of them in the nuts?” someone asked.

  “More or less,” Sully said. “She’s touched that gun under a dozen times in her life. You reckon she’s a good enough shot to do that on purpose?”

  “Makes me shiver to think she is,” Frank said. “I heard she had ’em in two shots. I’m gonna be way more careful what I say around her.”

  “I think you’re all being just plain ridiculous!” Sully said. “It was a damn fool thing she did with pretty poor odds!”

  “If I’m ever in trouble, I want her on my team,” Enid said. “Maybe the lot of you should be careful what you say around me.”

  “Aw, you’re carried away, that’s all,” Sully sulked. “She’s just a girl! Don’t encourage her!”

  Cal, listening to every word, smiled.

  * * *

  A few days later, the Smyth family paid a visit, expressing gratitude and giving Maggie great peace of mind. As it turned out, the scruffy, felonious twins had a long list of priors, in
cluding sexual assault and battery. The county was delighted to hold them without bail and the prediction was that they had reached the end of their criminal careers.

  Cal made a secret pledge to follow up on those two, make sure they were securely locked away.

  The crossing was teeming with people, some on vacation and others stretching out their weekends. Maggie and Cal had to insist that Sully go easy, knock off early. He was inclined to do too much.

  The garden showed the first sprouts of summer vegetables, wildflowers bloomed along roads and trails and Cal became a well-known fixture. He still maintained he was just helping out while Sully got back on his feet, yet his hours had become long and duties varied.

  In addition to working in and around the store, he also took plenty of time to sit on the porch or hang around the counter inside the store because warmer weather brought out the locals as well as campers. Neighboring ranchers or their wives paid visits even though they rarely needed supplies of any kind. There was a lot of hanging around the back counter or bulletin board. Gavin, the local ranger with the US Forest Service, dropped by a couple of times for a beer after work; the volunteer search-and-rescue unit had exercises nearby and most of the crew stopped at Sully’s on the way home. Tom was part of that team. And Tom managed to drop by most days, either in the morning for a cup of coffee to start his day or in the afternoon to check on Jackson or Nikki at the end of their day. Tom and Cal seemed to spend more and more time together, talking and laughing like old friends.

  Cal was friendly with the campers and when they asked him if he owned the store he said, “No, it belongs to Sully. I’m just cheap help. But if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

  Maggie took Sully to Denver to see the doctor for his checkups. Sully wanted to drive himself there and home but Maggie wasn’t having it. She wanted to hear everything the doctor said. Rob Hollis gave Sully an A+. “You’re cleared to lift twenty-five to thirty-five pounds, and stretching and bending is approved, as tolerated. Walking is good, as much as desired. Meds stay the same. See you in a month.”