by Peggy Staggs
“This is more complicated that we know. As far as I can tell only a few people know what’s really going on and none of them will tell me.” I brushed Jack’s hair back near the cut.
“You can save him, can’t you? You’ve got to.”
“His injuries are mostly superficial, painful but not life threatening. I’m most worried about the hypothermia.” I handed her one of the bottles of water. “Drink some of this.” I took the second bottle and some cotton from the aid bag. I pulled Jack’s phone from the bottom compartment and slipped it in my pocket. Done, I moistened the cotton. “Clean the blood from his face as best you can. I need to see to the cut is on his head.” It would give her something to concentrate on besides the three of us dying. Besides the cold, I was worried about the bruise on his chest. I hoped he didn’t have internal injuries. I needed him conscious. “Jack, wake up.” I put my hand on his cheek. “Come on.” I smoothed my hand along the side of his face that wasn’t bloody.
He moaned and moved his head toward me, but he didn’t come around. I searched through the aid bag for an ammonia inhalant. After I snapped it, I waved it under his nose. “Jack, wake up.”
He opened his eyes. “Doc.”
“How badly are you hurt?”
“Cracked ribs. I hurt everywhere.” He tensed as he raised his hand to his injured chest.
His words were slurred. Not good. “Relax and tell me what they use on you?” It wasn’t morbid curiosity. I needed to know. If it was metal, the damage would be worse than if it was a hose.
“A wooden dowel on my chest and shins.” He tried to sit up. “Where am I?” Then he saw Jane. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Lay down. I need you to be still.” Wood would hurt, but it wouldn’t do the damage a metal pipe would.
He took my hand. “Doc, you and Jane need to get out of here.”
“Leave you behind? Hell, no.” Mad had stolen Jane’s tears. “I couldn’t live with myself. Besides, what would I tell Stan?” She shook her head. “No.”
“Jack, you know I’m not leaving you here. I didn’t abandon you when we were up on the mountain, and I won’t now.”
“I can’t let him get to you. With my shins battered I won’t get ten yards.”
“Will you lay still?” This was far, far worse than when we’d been stuck in the hills in October. We’d had hope, then. He could walk. Now, I had no idea how I was going to get him out of here. “Can’t let who get to me?” I was afraid he was getting delirious from the cold.
“Did you call Brad?” he asked.
“Yes. Now, please let me take a look at your injuries.” I wasn’t going to tell him the FBI wouldn’t be coming to the rescue this time.
No one would.
I was it.
I was everyone’s last best hope.
He shivered. “No. I have to say this. I’m not going to—”
“Not going to what? Make it? Really? The big war hero who swoops in and rescues little girls against all odds is going to give up?” I drew in a breath. “Well? Are you?”
He sank back to the floor. “What did March tell you?”
“It isn’t important. I have to know how badly you’re hurt.” He’d know. “Do you think your wrists are broken?” I took a stabilizing breath. It didn’t work I still trembled inside.
“I don’t know.” He shivered again. “God, I’m cold.”
He flinched when I touched his shoulder probably from being strung up all night and day. “Let me see your wrists.”
He took them out from under my jacket. They were swollen from the stress of hanging. The rope had chafed the skin leaving it raw and bleeding. “I can’t tell if they’re broken.” I found some lidocaine ointment and spread it on the abrasions. It would take away some of the pain, but it wouldn’t last long.
I pulled my jacket and the blanket back around his shoulders. I moved the blanket from his legs. I saw the burns from the battery on the inside of his thighs. I hardened my heart as I spread the lidocaine on them. There wasn’t much I could do for his shins. His legs weren’t broken, but they had to be unbearably painful. They were bruised from his feet to his knees. In a couple of places, the skin was broken.
I clenched my jaw. These people were going to pay.
Every damn one of them.
Jane had finished cleaning his face. “Can we carry him?”
We both turned to her.
“No,” Jack said.
She shook her head. “Probably not.”
Jack closed his eyes.
Keep him talking, I mouthed to Jane, as I parted his hair. The cut needed stitches. I put a butterfly on it to stop the bleeding.
“Jack Trace, I have a fresh turkey ready for the oven. How are you going to sit at the Christmas dinner table with all those bumps and cuts?”
“Aunt Jane. I wouldn’t be able to eat, I’m too cold.”
His speech was more slurred. That meant he was succumbing to the hypothermia.
I angled Jack’s head toward me. I stared into his crystalline hazel eyes. The one’s I’d gazed into as he’d lied to me, and I’d believed him. Or had he? “Jack,” I whispered. My goal right now was to get him out of here and to the hospital. I’d deal with Don’s story later. I pulled tow hand warmers out of the pack and placed them over his Femoral arteries. It would help warm him.
“We need a plan.” Jane glanced at the door. “What if we move the dresser in front of the door?” She shook her head. “The bullets will go right through the walls.”
“Let us help you sit up, I need to wrap your ribs. It’ll help with the pain so we can get you out of here.”
The three of us struggled to sit him up. He laid his head on my shoulder like he had time and again in the past two months. Then it had sent a wave of warmth and comfort through me. Now I didn’t know what to feel. Was this the Jack I needed him to be? Or was he the killer and womanizer Don said he was?
It took a couple of minutes, but I got his ribs wrapped. I put my jacket around his shoulders. He didn’t let go of me.
Instead, he gently held me. I could feel his lips on my neck as he spoke, “Ens.”
“Lay back.”
“No. I need to say this.”
“You don’t need to say anything.” The sharpness in my voice surprised me as much as it did him.
The door burst open, and Nasty-woman stormed in. “We searched the truck. Money’s not coming, is it? Or is it in that?” She pointed to the aid bag.
Chapter Thirteen
I couldn’t let her take the aid bag. Hidden in was Jack’s 40 cal. “You didn’t think I was going to bring it with me, did you? Besides, everything is closed. It’s Christmas.” Or haven’t you heard?
“There’s no money, is there?” She pointed her shotgun at Jack. “He’s first.”
I stood and moved between her and Jack.
Having a gun aimed at you point blank, is scary as hell. I mean your-life-flashes-in-front-of-your-eyes petrifying. A shotgun is hundred times worse. No, a thousand times when a crazy person is on the trigger end. “If you kill us there’s no chance you’ll get anything, but a long prison sentence. The town is snowed in, you can’t get out before they find you.” I figured she was at least smart enough to understand that.
“Have your big-time CIA friend call the government and get it,” Jimmy shouted from behind Nasty-woman.
“Yeah, call him. I want my money.” She pushed me with the barrel of the gun.
I stood my ground between Nasty-woman and Jack. “It’s Christmas everywhere, they’re not open, either.” Didn’t she watch the news? The government didn’t deal with terrorists. This group was about as terrifying as it got. Maybe if I pointed out the obvious. “The only way I can get the money is to sell everything I have. It’ll take weeks. Months.”
“Then, I want the diamonds. I know he has diamonds.” She motioned toward Jack.
Okay, that one caught me off guard. Wait, how did she know about them? Was she guessing? No, I don’t belie
ve in coincidence. Her demand brought a whole dimension to everything. The only mention of diamonds had been in Don’s version of the mission in Africa. No one here could possibly know about Africa. Could they? Don. I clenched my fists. Damn him, he’d held back information. “Diamonds?”
“I know he has a stash of diamonds and cash. I want it all.”
She wasn’t guessing, her demand was too close to Don’s story. Besides, I’d never heard any rumors of either diamonds or cash. “Diamonds?” Yes, I was playing dumb.
She nodded toward the hall. “He told me all about the money and the gems—”
At that moment, someone grabbed Jimmy from the doorway. A few seconds he stumbled back into the room. His eyes were wide with fear. “You’re not supposed to tell her about that.”
I heard the front door slam shut.
“I don’t care what he wants.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off me. “I want my money.” I saw her finger moved to the trigger.
My thoughts jostled into place and a plan of sorts formed. “Okay, you win.” I had to keep her from pulling that trigger. “The safe at Jack’s house has a palm imprint release mechanism.” With us out of here, I could get Jack warm, and I’d buy some time to figure out what to do next.
“Fine. We’ll cut off his hand.”
Holy shit. My brain raced to come up with something plausible. “That won’t work.” Yes, I was banking on the fact she didn’t know any more about palm imprint safes than I did. Actually, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure such a thing existed outside of the movie industry. I knew it was possible to open your phone with a thumbprint. I’d seen the commercials. So, what the hell? “It reads body temperature and galvanic skin response as well as the print. If those three things aren’t present, the safe won’t open. If you try to break into it, a device will destroy everything inside. Money and all.” I hoped my bluff worked. More, I hoped my ‘I’m lying’ expression was taken for ‘confidence.’
“So, no cutting off anything,” Jane said.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I figured I might as well go for broke. “The FBI and the Homeland are working their way here. So, if you’re quick and smart,”—fat chance on either count— “you’ll have a head start.”
“No one’s getting through this storm—” Mrs. Shaw bellowed. “I want that money.”
“I got a call right after yours. An FBI agent, by the name of Brad Hughes, just landed in Jackson Hole. You remember him. He’s the one who arrested your father.” I was trying to rattle her enough to keep her off balance so she couldn’t think straight. I had to be careful not to push too many of her buttons. After all, she still had a shotgun aimed at my gut. “From the other side, the CIA is working its way up from Boise.” At this point, I prayed my poker face—which I know I don’t have—held.
Someone in the hall called to her, and she left the room.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and went to Jack and Jane. “There are clean blankets in the back of the truck. We’ll try to get you warm.” I touched his cheek. “You’re going to be fine. Your 40 cal. is in the bottom of the aid bag. I can’t get to it without getting us all killed. Maybe one of you’ll have a chance in the truck.”
Mrs. Shaw entered the room. “Okay, we take two trucks,” her voice was high with excitement. “Granny goes with you and me. Moneybags goes with Nate, TJ, and Jimmy.” That left out Shadow-man. Had he been the slamming door a few minutes ago?
Splitting us up was out of the question. “No. Jack goes with us. Jane’s a nurse.” I figured in for a penny— “He needs an IV. She has to keep it warm and hold it. If it isn’t held right, he’ll get air in his vein and die and then you won’t get your diamonds or money.”
She glanced out the door, then nodded. “Fine. I ride with you.”
Good, Mr. Sadist wouldn’t be with us.
“Where are Jack’s clothes?” I asked.
“He never had a shirt. The pants are in the basement somewhere.” She called out, “TJ, get this guy’s pants. Now.”
TJ aka Blue-shirt came in and tossed Jack’s pants to me.
I helped Jack sit up. We got his pants on over his battered legs. The pain washed-out the remaining color in his face until his skin was ghost-white, he had to hurt like hell. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Let me give you a shot for the pain.”
He squeezed my hand. “No.”
I pulled a liter of saline out of the aid bag.
“This is new since October,” I said.
“I figured I needed to prepare a little more after our picnic.” Jack’s words were more slurred, and he was shaking so hard we could barely get him dressed. It was up to Jane and me. I taped the tubing to his arm and covered it with gauze to secure it. I hoped my attempt at faking the IV worked. If he had to protect himself—if he could—I didn’t want anything ripping into his vein.
I flashed back to the two of us stranded in the mountains as we shared the lunch Jane had packed. He’d promised to take me on a proper picnic in the summer. Don’s story raced through my mind. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to think about Africa. About his deception. If indeed, there was one. Oh, God, this was so hard. My heart held all the fury of the raging blizzard outside. And the pain of what might be.
Jane and I got Jack to his feet. I wrapped the space blanket around his body. He put his arm around me. I remembered the soft autumn day up in the hills. Our struggle to survive. The memory of our first kiss in the hospital when we were safe. All his kisses. Every memory—all of it—marred by Don’s story.
No. I owed it to Jack to hear his side. Jack once told me there’s an element of truth in every lie. I struggled to harden my heart. It didn’t work. I felt it breaking.
Jane and I got him in the back of the truck and secured the blankets around him.
Mrs. Shaw sat in the passenger’s seat sideways. Her shotgun pointed at Jack. Getting to the 40 cal. was out.
»§«
Jack’s house appeared dark and lonely. I remembered the night I’d come here to confront him about his involvement in the resort scandal. The house had been lit with the warmth of friendship. He’d met me at the front door with a simple, “Hi.” My heart melted at the memory of the smile on his face, and the tenderness in his eyes. As if I were the only person in the world he cared about. The image of him and Lois standing in the doorway always made me smile. Not the big broad smile of humor, but the soft, gentle smile that comes with being in love. Yes, I’ve given up any pretense I was anything but in love. How was I going to survive this if it was all a lie? “No.” The word slipped out in a breath.
“No. What?” Nasty-woman demanded.
Focus. I pulled to a stop and shut off the engine. The wreath we selected hung on the front door.
If I was going to die, I wanted to know my killer’s name. “What’s your name? I mean your real name.” Brad hadn’t said which of the three names, but he hadn’t told me which one was real. I figured the ones on the registration card at the B&B were fake.
“What? Why do you care?”
“Because referring to you as Nasty-woman in my head is getting tiresome.”
She blinked at me. “Alice. Alice Shaw.”
“Fine, Alice. Let’s get this over with.” There was a lot more bravado in my words than in my heart. Hey, if I’m going out, I’m going with dignity. I’m not crawling for anyone.
My SUV sat where Don and I left it earlier. The snow was piled high on it.
I helped Jack out of the backseat. He put his arms around me. “Ens, you have to listen to me.”
“Later.” The word came out dismissively.
“No, now.” He held onto me. “In the library, there’s a picture above a set of glass bookcase doors. Open it, there’s a gun in the recess. Kill as many of them as you can. I’ll do what I can.”
“You can’t do anything, if you have a broken rib, you could puncture a lung. I can’t get you to the hospital fast enough in this weather. You’ll die.”
“You’ll be safe.”
“I’m not going to let you die.” I needed to hear the truth from him. I knew he wouldn’t lie to me. But if he’d done everything Don said he had...why wouldn’t he? I felt my heart quicken. I couldn’t be wrong again. Not this time.
“Ens, I’m not worth it. I know what Don was going to tell you. It’s the truth. You should be with a good man. Someone who’ll love you and take care of you. Not me. It’s what I was going to tell you last night. I was breaking it off.”
My heart shattered.
Completely.
Irretrievably crushed.
The pain ripped at my soul and stole my courage.
An involuntary sob escaped me. “Fine.” What was I going to say? “At least you were honest with me.” I struggled to keep my voice even. “I’ll go back to D. C., and my old life. Idaho hasn’t been great to me.” This wound was deep. I reminded myself I’d only known him a couple of months. Ten weeks. I swallowed the crushing pain I wasn’t sure I could endure.
Inside, Jack said, “It’s in the library.”
TJ and Jimmy were on either side of Jack. Between the hypothermia and his injuries, it still took a few minutes to get to the hall and into the cozy room.
Alice spun on her skinny husband. “If you hadn’t beat the crap out of him, this would have been a lot easier.” She smacked him hard on the back of the head.
Probably, what was wrong with him, too many blows to the head.
I reached for the picture over the bookcase.
“Stop.” Alice seized my wrist with the same cruel hand she’d struck her husband with. “I don’t trust you.” She pushed me to the side and clutched at the picture frame.
I glanced over at Jack. He shook his head. I didn’t know if it meant all was lost, or we were switching to plan ‘B.’ He always had a plan ‘B.’ He just hadn’t shared it with me. It seemed there were a lot of things he hadn’t shared with me. I swallowed my tears.
“What’s this?” Alice snatched the gun from behind the picture. With one swift motion, she slapped me hard enough to knock me into the table between the leather wingback chairs.
