The words struck me like bullets in my chest. I’d heard that Scripture recently. Enoch mentioned the name Saunders and then he quoted Scripture. Why did they seem connected? The two pieces intersected in my mind.
Oh. No.
My phone rang at the same time I slammed on the brakes and Enoch strained against his seat belt like a crash test dummy. I slapped the lever into reverse and executed a three-point turn before my phone rang a third time.
I punched it on, and Trey shouted at me while I brought the phone to my face. “… on my way. Don’t do anything.”
“What?” I yelled back, then realized adrenaline cranked up my voice.
Enoch braced himself with one hand on the dash and the other on the door. He stared out the windshield, helping me drive with the force of his will.
I needed all the help I could get as I buried the gas pedal and we fishtailed on the gravel.
Trey wasn’t doing any better in the adrenaline department and kept hollering, “He got away. Took my car.”
“Who? Josh?”
An engine roared. “I’m on my way. He’ll be after Meredith so get her out of the courthouse. Bring her down here.”
I suspected it was already too late for that. “Where are you?”
“I’ve got a patrol car and I’ll be there in a half hour.” If he drove more than a hundred miles an hour. Which he would do.
We reached the oil strip, and I pulled my foot off the gas but didn’t brake. We slid, and I tossed the phone to use both hands. I didn’t have time to explain to Trey, but Meredith was in a lot of trouble.
And I’d put her there.
29
Keeping my eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, and the gas pedal down, we sliced through the night. I spoke in the most serious voice I could conjure.
“You’ve got to stay in the car. Don’t try to help me out because you think I can’t handle this. This is more serious than smashing Meredith’s nose.”
Still braced, Enoch didn’t answer.
No vehicles were in sight on the highway so I didn’t turn on my flashers. I used my stern Diane voice. “Do you understand?”
He kept still as a stone. “I understand Joshua is coming. I will not allow you to hurt him.”
My voice rose too loud for the car. “I don’t want to hurt anyone! But if you interfere, it makes everything more difficult.”
Silence.
“Damn it, Enoch! Don’t make me cuff you again.” I needed his agreement because I didn’t have any more cuffs on me and I didn’t have time to argue.
Enoch drew in a shocked breath. I was sure he’d take exception to a woman cursing.
I raced up Main Street and slid into the slot behind the courthouse. I was too late.
But I had to know for sure. I sprinted for the door, fumbled with the key, and took the stairs two at a time. I dashed to my office. I crashed through the door and lurched across the room to yank on the heavy metal door to the cell.
I’d braced myself for blood. A body ripped up, the stench of death. I slumped against the concrete wall and stared at the empty cell.
Five seconds for relief and a plan. Out of the office, down the stairs, I threw myself into the cruiser.
Thankfully, Enoch hadn’t jumped the fence. “They’ll go to the ranch.”
“Who?”
He put the stink of a cesspool in his voice. “That girl and Clete Rasmussen.”
I careened back onto the highway, heading to Meredith’s place. “Why do you think that?”
“You want to be sheriff but can’t put two thoughts together.”
I had put it together, just not soon enough. Clete’s stepson, Ron. College buddies with Chad and Josh, probably Meredith. Ron Saunders. As in Saunders v. BNSF.
Scenarios played out in my mind involving Meredith, Josh, Chad, and Clete. Clete and Ron had an operation going on with Chad. Josh or Meredith discovered Chad was involved and went to Clete. Scared Chad would finger him, Clete killed Chad and pinned it on Josh.
Or Josh and Meredith were in the operation with Ron. When Chad ferreted out the truth, Josh killed him to shut him up. Now Clete learned about the thefts and wanted to hurt Meredith for getting his stepson in trouble.
What tipped me more to the first scenario was my suspicion that Clete was taking Meredith to the ranch to find the TVs she stole from him. Then there was the black ladder Newt and Earl had lashed to their Monte Carlo. They said they got it from Clete’s dump. Whether Clete murdered Chad or not, he couldn’t mean anything but trouble for Meredith.
I jerked the car from the highway and sped down County Road 67. My tires squealed when I yanked the car onto the gravel road. I radioed to Ogallala since I couldn’t take the time to find my phone. Her Volvo was parked in the ranch yard so we streaked past Meredith’s house. Right before the last curve to Josh’s ranch, I slid to a stop and cut the lights. “I’m going to sneak up on them. At least I’ll have surprise on my side.”
Enoch put his hand on the door, ready to push it open. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
That might be true, but I still had to try. “You stay here.”
I didn’t wait to see what he’d do. Even if he refused to wait, it’d take him some time to hobble to the house. Maybe by then Josh would be here, and he’d take care of Enoch.
I’d need to do something about Josh, too, but I had to deal with the devil at hand first.
The moon hovered above, casting its blue glow over the winter prairie. Slight wind didn’t mask the crunch of my boots on the dirt road as I trotted around the bend, my gun in the holster feeling like a sandbag of dread. In a few minutes I slowed, the house in sight. My breath puffed in moist clouds, and sweat cooled on my face. I pulled my gun as I hurried toward the kitchen door.
Clete’s rage vibrated through the walls. I crept up the steps and inched to the window, staying low, keeping my breath as shallow as possible. I raised my face to the glass and peered through the ruffled curtains.
Meredith sat in a kitchen chair pulled from the table. Her arms wrenched back, probably tied. Her legs were lashed to the chair. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought a few more bruises colored her face. She wheezed through her sobs.
“Tell me what you know.” The normal discomfort and annoyance rumbling through Clete had magnified a hundred times.
Meredith squeaked, “I don’t know anything.”
Clete whacked the back of Meredith’s head and her neck snapped forward and bounced back. She cried out.
I closed my hand on the cold doorknob, my other hand gripping my Smith and Wesson.
Clete paced in front of her. “You and Josh. You couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”
He pulled his hand back, ready to let it fly at her again. I executed a Kate Beckett move and burst into the room. “Freeze!”
I don’t know if I thought it would do any good to act like a cop on a Monday night TV series, and if Clete would really give up that easily. But I was surprised he reacted as quickly as he did.
A gun appeared in his hand. From his back pocket? I hadn’t seen it earlier. He raised it and fired three shots. Bam, bam, bam.
Meredith screamed. And screamed some more.
I dove and rolled, improbably imitating a ninja. I popped back to my feet and brought my arm up to aim, but in the small kitchen Clete loomed in front of me. He might be old but his mighty frame wasn’t frail. He slammed a massive hand on my gun and snatched it from me before I could bring myself to pull the trigger. The first rule of law enforcement: Don’t draw your gun unless you intend to use it. But I’d hesitated because it was Clete. The county commissioner since before I even knew there was a Grand County. With his self-importance and booming voice, the butt of so many Fox family jokes.
My hesitation had probably doomed me and Meredith.
But I wasn’t the only one with a slow trigger finger. Clete’s pained expression showed a moment of indecision as he shoved my gun into his belt. And in that split second, the sud
den flash of red and blue lights flared across the window over the sink.
He tensed and raised his gun hand, the barrel pointed at my chest. The roar of Trey’s engine grew. Clete’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He was bracing to send a bullet into my heart, to rip the flesh and stop its beating. Meredith kept screaming.
Trey must have flown to get here so quickly. But his arrival only fueled Clete’s determination to shoot.
I held Clete’s gaze, not necessarily daring him to fire but not backing down from him. If he was going to kill me, he’d have to look me in the eye while he pulled the trigger. Small justice for someone who’d murdered before, but the only hand I had left to play.
We both held our breath in that instant that seemed like a lifetime. And then the window above the sink shattered. The explosion ripped through the kitchen, and Clete flung himself to the floor. Plaster rattled on the linoleum, and a bullet hole sheared through the wall just inches above where Clete’s head had been. It couldn’t have been Trey. His car was still roaring toward the house.
Josh. Or Enoch. Neither one made me feel any better. Not only was Meredith sitting in the open with bullets flying; an old man and a potential murderer ran around in the dark. At least one of them armed.
Another shot zinged through the window, breaking more glass and putting another gaping hole in the plaster. I must have hit the floor, though I don’t recall doing so, and was surprised to find myself with my hands covering my head.
Meredith’s hysterics ratcheted up a few levels. Part of me wanted to join in, just scream my head off until it all went away.
Clete commando-crawled out the kitchen into the living room, probably making for the front door. I imitated the crawl and took off after him, keeping my head low. With his long legs and powerful build he lengthened the distance between us and made it to the front door well before me.
The moment he opened the front door, a shot ricocheted off the doorjamb with a burst of splinters. Clete jumped to his feet and sprinted out the door while the shooter cocked the rifle for another round. His heavy footsteps thudded across the porch while I lunged toward the door. I hit the ground just shy of the doorway and wondered about the shooter and whether I could avoid death tonight. Mine, certainly, but everyone else’s, too. I didn’t have a gun but I was determined to go after Clete to keep tabs on him.
Trey’s car skidded to a halt, the lights berserk in red and blue. Meredith’s screams tapered off to sobs. Her chair scooted and thumped.
“Get down!” I shouted, still on the living room floor. The chair kept thudding.
“Freeze!” Trey’s voice sounded sure and strong. But ineffective, as another blast came from the rifle. This time, not in my direction.
I jumped to my feet and ran out the door. Clete could be anywhere by now, but I’d heard him take off to the west, and I headed that way. I jettisoned from the porch and didn’t even land before strong arms circled me and I collided with a brick wall. I landed on the frozen ground with an ooof, sucking freezing air down my throat and coughing it back out.
Trey rolled off me, grabbed me by the shoulders and scanned me up and down in the blue moonlight, broken by the garish disco of his light bar. “Are you okay?”
I shoved him away and scrambled to my feet.
Trey grabbed my arm and threw me back to the ground. “Stay down.”
I wrenched my arm free. “Clete is getting away.”
“What about Meredith?” Trey asked, still looking me over for injuries.
I crouched on the balls of my feet, ready to spring after Clete. “She’s in the kitchen. Tied up.”
“Josh is out here. My stolen car is parked by yours.”
I thought as much. Fueled by adrenaline, I panted. “I think Enoch is the shooter. He’s probably confused. We can’t trust him to know who or why he’s shooting.”
Trey looked into the darkness for a second. “Go back and protect Meredith.”
“I’m going after Clete.” I readied for a sprint toward the barn. “Josh won’t hurt Meredith.”
“You aren’t trained for this kind of situation. Please. Go back inside, protect the victim.”
He was sending me out of harm’s way, protecting me like some macho asshole. I wanted to fight, but he was right. One of us had to take care of Meredith, though I’m not sure I thought of her as a victim. Trey had more experience, plain and simple. Fighting him wouldn’t make me a feminist standing up for women’s rights; it would make me a rookie jerk ready to prove myself and hinder the situation.
I switched course and bounded for the house. Another gunshot decimated the top porch step. If Enoch was the shooter, he’d definitely forgotten I wasn’t the enemy. I blessed his shaky hands that lessened the sure aim of his younger days.
I dove through the front door and skittered through the living room into the kitchen. Meredith still sat upright, tears streaking through the dried and smeared blood on her face. She screamed again when she saw me.
“Stop it,” I commanded. Crouched, I grabbed the back of the chair and wedged my foot against a leg and tugged. She toppled over and screamed again.
This time I grabbed her chin. “Be quiet.”
She whimpered and I worked on the knots at her hands. The rope was soft, probably an old piggin’ string. Clete had trussed her like a cowboy would a calf at a rodeo, and her struggling had tightened the hold. I worked at the knot to haunting silence outside.
Maybe Enoch kept a rifle in the barn, a leftover from his survivalist stash. Assuming Enoch had the gun, and that only one guy out there was shooting, that left Trey, Clete, and Josh in the darkness. Who was stalking whom?
Was Josh out to kill Clete before Clete could turn him in? Was Josh on his way into the kitchen to end Meredith and me? Was Clete circling back to do the same? Was Trey after Clete or Josh?
It’d be nice to have my Smith and Wesson. I freed Meredith’s hands, and she lay on her side, rubbing her wrists. “Untie your feet.” Obviously she needed survival tips.
Reaching up and groping along the counter, I found the knife block. It didn’t take a lot of thought to grab the sturdiest handle. I hoped Enoch and Josh kept their kitchen knives sharp.
I realized I hadn’t heard any shots for several minutes. Meredith huddled in a corner under the sink. Her sobs might camouflage the sound of someone sneaking through the living room. I regretted not slamming the front door behind me.
I scooted to her and put my head close. She shrank from me, as if I intended to use the knife on her. I put my finger to my lips and breathed a shhhh.
She hiccupped and brought the volume down to a whimper every now and then. She shivered, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. In shirt sleeves, with the window shot out and front door wide, she must be freezing. I had enough adrenaline zipping through my veins I was in no danger of hypothermia. I unzipped my coat and shrugged out of it. I dropped it on her. She didn’t move, and again I tempered my irritation at her stupidity.
“Put it on.” She was probably in shock. She wasn’t used to gunfights, kidnapping, having her life threatened. But then, neither was I.
30
I eased up and strained to see through the shattered pane. The moon didn’t give off much light, and even that bloomed in and out with clouds overhead. A movement near the barn caught my focus. Definitely a man, he crouched and ran along the side of the building.
Meredith tucked herself into the corner of the kitchen and whimpered.
The wind had picked up and whistled through the bare trees. Another man waited in the shadows at the front of the barn. The two would collide. The waiting figure had the advantage. He’d know the other was approaching. I couldn’t identify him. Should I shout a warning?
In the second it took to decide, footsteps dashed across the living room. I swung around, jumped in front of Meredith, who shrank even farther into the corner. I crouched and held the knife in front of me, ready to attack.
Josh’s lanky figure shot into the kitchen, hi
s head sweeping back and forth, trying to see in the shadows cast by weak moonlight. He gave an anguished cry, “Meredith!”
She lunged forward on her hands and knees, knocking into me. “Josh!”
Now everyone had a name. I grasped the knife. “Back away.”
I must have sounded menacing because he froze. He held his hands up. “Wait. I’m not going to hurt her.”
“It’s not Meredith I’m worried about. Why would you hurt your girlfriend?”
He lowered his hands, his face twisted in confusion. “Is that what you think? That we’re having an affair?”
“I think maybe you’re together, and you killed Chad because he found out you’re robbing freight cars.”
He nearly shouted in frustration. “How do you explain Clete?”
“He’s your partner. You needed him to set up the trains. He knew what each car carried and found a reason to set them out on the siding. But you and Meredith got greedy and took his share of the loot.”
Josh actually smiled. “Loot?”
I felt ridiculous holding the knife in front of me. I didn’t see a gun, but Josh probably had one ready.
Josh grew serious. “Dad is out there with his gun, terrified. You got Deputy Dawg on the hunt, and that in itself is dangerous. Then you got Clete, who’s desperate. You’re the only sane one in the bunch. You need to quit messing around in here and get this situation under control.”
“And leave you and Meredith to escape?”
“We’re not going anywhere. Would you get it through your head I’m not with Meredith? We didn’t kill Chad.”
“Then why do you have the stolen TVs? Why is Meredith running away?”
“We don’t have time for storytelling.”
A cloud skittered away from the moon, and it shone through the open window.
“Once upon a time.” I stared at him.
His face outlined by the moon, he snarled, “It was Chad. He got himself involved in this thing. At first Meredith liked the expensive art and that Volvo. But he wouldn’t tell her where he got the money.”
Dark Signal Page 24
