by Cindi Myers
* * *
AUDRA STOOD IN front of the mirror in her bathroom and tried to see herself as Mitch Ruffino would—a small woman, wearing jeans and low boots with rubber soles (better for running if she needed to), a pale blue knit shirt with three-quarter length sleeves, and a turquoise-and-pink-quartz pendant with matching earrings. She’d spent some time on her makeup, partly to cover the dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights since she’d agreed to this risky plan, and partly because she wanted Ruffino to think she was the kind of glamorous, high-maintenance and possibly pampered woman who wouldn’t know anything about defending herself. She’d added false eyelashes, heavy liner and dramatic lipstick. She looked ready to go out on the town, not prepared to confront a possible killer. She hoped her appearance would lull him into thinking she didn’t suspect he’d double-cross her.
And he would try to double-cross her. She was almost certain of that. Whatever had happened between her father and Ruffino, it had been enough to send her father into hiding. Dane Trask wasn’t a man who backed down easily. But Ruffino would have expected Dane to fight back. She imagined a man like him would even be afraid of her father, a former army ranger who was fit and in his prime.
She was counting on Ruffino to not expect a fight from her.
“I’ve never seen you this dressed up. You almost don’t look like yourself.”
She turned to face Hud. “I haven’t worn this much makeup since a friend and I did one of those glamour photo shoots that were popular when I was in college,” she said. “But I’m hoping the glamour will throw Ruffino off guard. If he asks, I’ll tell him I plan to go out and celebrate with some of the money he’s going to pay me. I’ll make him believe the money is all I care about.”
Hud put his hands on her shoulders. “You know I don’t like this, but I’m proud of you,” he said. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to not allow anything to happen to you.”
“I know. And that’s why I’m able to do this.” She touched the pendant at her throat. “Do you know if Dance and Beck are picking up transmissions okay?”
In answer, Hud’s cell phone rang. He listened, then said, “Okay,” and hung up. “Beck says everything is coming through good, but don’t touch the pendant. It creates static, plus you don’t want to call attention to it.”
“Right.” She put her hands at her side. “What time is it?” The day had dragged, waiting for the time that the meeting would start, but now that it was almost here, everything was moving too fast.
Hud checked his watch. “Almost time for you to leave.” He walked her to the door. She collected her purse and keys, then turned and kissed him, hard and quick. “I’ll be okay,” she whispered.
Then she hurried out the door, willing herself not to turn back, not to chicken out. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself, but what she heard was her father, telling her the same thing when he dropped her off at the rehab center all those years ago.
She drove to the construction site, keeping to the speed limit and forcing herself not to search for the surveillance van or the Rangers she had been told would be watching over her. There would be officers from the Montrose County Sheriff’s Department also, since the school was in their jurisdiction. She turned in at the sign that announced Future Site of Canyon Creek Elementary School.
The school building looked almost complete, only stickers on the windows and a lack of landscaping hinting at work still to be done. Constructed of reddish sandstone blocks, the school blended into the surrounding sandstone boulders, seeming to grow organically from the ground. A low stone wall along the drive separated the pavement from what might be flower beds in the future.
A dark SUV with tinted windows was parked in front of the almost-completed school. Audra turned into the lot, drove a slow circle past the SUV, then back to park in the middle of the entrance drive, the nose of her car facing out. She was blocking the entrance and making it easier for her to drive away. She left the engine running and the keys in the ignition, her purse on the passenger seat, and opened the door.
She was scarcely out of the car before the SUV started up and drove to within inches of her back bumper and stopped. The SUV’s driver, a big blond man in a black T-shirt and jeans, got out. “You’re blocking the exit,” he said.
She faced him. “I am.”
A second big man, this one with closely cropped brown hair, dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt, got out of the passenger seat. “You need to move your car,” he said.
“If that’s what you want,” she said. “I’ll leave. Though I came here to meet Mr. Ruffino.”
The back door of the SUV opened and Mitch Ruffino emerged. He was dressed casually in khakis and a green polo shirt, as if he were headed to the golf course after this. “Are you in a hurry to leave already?” he asked.
She removed her sunglasses and fluttered the false eyelashes. “I have things to do,” she said. “I plan to celebrate big with the money you’re going to give me.”
“Only if you have what I want.” He moved toward her.
She opened her palm to reveal the flash drive. “I think this is what you want,” she said.
He reached for it, but she closed her fingers around it once more. “I want to see the money,” she said.
“First, we need to search you,” he said. “I want to make sure you aren’t recording this. My sources say you’re pretty friendly with the Rangers.”
For a moment, she was sure her heart stopped beating. Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t speak. You’re not afraid, she told herself. You’re brash and reckless and tough. She drew herself up to her full height. “You can search me,” she said. “But don’t you dare get fresh.”
Ruffino looked at the blond. The man stepped forward, towering over her, and patted her down. She kept her expression impassive as he groped her, even as she was inwardly cringing against his touch. He took his time going over her body, but he didn’t even touch the necklace.
As soon as he took his hands from her, she stepped back.
“You’re shaking,” Ruffino said. “Why?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” she said. “My father is missing, and I’m sure it’s because of something you did or said.”
“Oh no,” Ruffino said. “That’s all on your father. He went off the deep end and did something stupid. Now he’s paying for it. I’m hoping you’re smarter.”
She thought of a dozen questions she wanted to ask him—what did you do to my father? What did he say to you? But the Rangers had coached her on what to say. “Tell me about the Mary Lee mine,” she said.
Ruffino scowled. “What about it?”
“The paper made a big deal out of the fines you had to pay to the EPA. My father was working on that project before he disappeared. I’m worried there’ll be more trouble over the mine.”
“We took care of all that,” Ruffino said. “We got rid of everything that could be a problem. Even the EPA admits it’s all clean now. If your father told you otherwise, he’s wrong. We were very careful, and everything would have been fine if he hadn’t interfered.”
“What about this school?” She gestured toward the almost-completed building.
“Everything is fine here, too. We paid off the people who needed to be paid off.”
“All those bribes get expensive.”
“Don’t call them bribes. And we figured all that into our bid.”
“Your bargain bid.”
He chuckled. “Wells knew it was worth his while to make a big deal over the bargain he was getting. But there are firms who would have done it for half the price we did. Or not done it at all.”
She tried to put together this puzzle, but it wasn’t making sense. “Did you tell Wells to take the day care contract away from me?” she asked.
“No. He got nervous and did that all by himself. But don’t worry. With t
he money we’re paying you, you won’t need to work for a long while.” He reached into his pocket and she flinched, expecting him to withdraw a weapon. Instead, he took out a slim leather wallet and extracted a check and handed it to her.
She stared at the check, made out in her name for $300,000. “You’re giving me a check?”
“We’re going to say it’s the proceeds from a life insurance policy we provide for all our executives,” he said. “Don’t worry. No one will suspect anything.”
She had expected a suitcase with bundles of cash, or the key to a secret safe-deposit box, or even the number and pass code to a secure offshore account. An ordinary check seemed so absurd. “How do I know this check is any good?” she asked.
“How do I know this flash drive isn’t full of nonsense?” He grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard. “No more games,” he said. “Time for you to do what I want. My two friends here will make sure of it.”
* * *
“THAT’S ENOUGH,” HUD SAID from the back of the van where he sat with Dance and Sanderlin, eavesdropping on Audra’s meeting with Ruffino. “We’ve got him admitting to bribes. We need to get Audra out of there before she gets hurt.”
“Wait,” Sanderlin said. “If we handle this right, we can avoid letting Ruffino know we’re onto him and avoid exposing Audra to more danger.”
“She’s not a professional,” Hud said. “She shouldn’t even be in there.”
Sanderlin remained calm. “Listen,” he said.
“I don’t want just the money,” Audra said. “I want the contract for the day care center back.”
“You don’t need that contract,” Ruffino said. “You can do whatever you want with this money, especially if you’re smart about investing it.”
“It’s a matter of pride,” she said.
“Your father was proud, too, and it didn’t get him anywhere. Trust me, you don’t want to work around here.”
“Why not?”
“Nothing. I mean, the risks are minimal. People exaggerate the effects of that kind of radiation. Really—you’re probably getting more exposure from dental X-rays. That’s why we took all that material up to the mine, instead of reusing it at the building site. We were actually making it safer.”
“What is he talking about?” Dance asked.
“Radiation?” Audra sounded as puzzled as they were. “How can you be sure it’s all gone?”
“We can’t be sure it’s all gone, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. And if you’re worried about testing, we’ve taken care of all of that. Everybody who matters is on our payroll. Everything will be fine. And you need to keep your mouth shut about this, or you’ll jeopardize the whole operation.”
“How big an operation are we talking about?” Audra asked.
“Good,” Dance said. “He went off script, but she’s following right along.”
“Maybe I want to be part of the operation,” Audra said.
Hud and Sanderlin exchanged glances. That definitely wasn’t part of the script.
“What could you do for us?” Ruffino asked.
“I own a day care center. Can you think of a better cover? No one would suspect me of anything.”
“Interesting,” Ruffino said.
“I need to know more,” she said. “What role would you allow me to take?”
“I’d have to talk to people above me. But you might be onto something.”
“I want—”
But they never got to hear the rest of her sentence. Gunshots—very loud and very close—crackled over the speakers, followed by terrifying silence.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Audra staggered back, blood from Mitch Ruffino’s head sprayed across the front of her shirt. She gaped at the blond man, who had shot Mitch Ruffino. “Why did you do that?”
In answer, he turned the gun on her.
She stared, trying to register in vain what was happening. But some primitive part of her brain—the part desperate to survive—took over. She launched herself over the low rock wall, bullets exploding shards of granite around her. She scrambled on her hands and knees into a culvert, desperate for cover as shouts rang out behind her.
More shots exploded, and it took her a moment to realize the bullets were no longer striking near her. Heart in her throat, she crawled to the edge of the culvert and peered out. Men dressed in black fatigues, with shields and helmets, swarmed the area. The two bodyguards lay on the ground, the blond silent and still, the other in handcuffs, blood running from a wound in his arm.
A white service van skidded to a halt at the front bumper to her car. The back doors opened and Hud raced out. “Audra!” he shouted.
“I’m over here!” But the words came out so weak he didn’t hear her. She managed to back out of the culvert and stand, her knees aching. “I’m over here,” she tried again.
A man all in black, face concealed by a helmet, swiveled and pointed a rifle at her. “Don’t shoot!” she screamed, and tried to raise her hands in the air. She felt weak and stupid, and tears streamed down her face.
Then Hud was by her side, one arm around her shoulders, holding her up. “Where are you hurt?” he demanded. “We’ve got to get you to an ambulance.”
“It isn’t my blood,” she said. “It’s Ruffino’s.” She turned to look at the vice president of TDC, who lay faceup and blank-eyed in the glaring sun.
Hud pressed her face into his shoulder. “Don’t look,” he said.
“The blond man—his bodyguard, I thought—shot him,” she said. “One minute we were talking, and then the man just shot him. And he tried to shoot me.”
Hud pulled away far enough to look her up and down. Some of the blood was on his uniform now, and the sight made her woozy. “I need to sit down,” she managed.
He led her to her car, opened the door and helped her sit in the passenger seat. Commander Sanderlin approached. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” It was the best answer she could give. She was still trying to absorb the idea that she could have been shot, but wasn’t.
“The ambulance is on its way,” Sanderlin said. “We’ll have the EMTs check her out.” He was talking to Hud, and she listened with the detachment of someone overhearing two strangers at the next table in a coffee shop.
Sanderlin leaned into the car to address her again. “Do you have the check Ruffino gave you?”
The check—she looked down and realized she was still clutching the check in her fist. It was torn and smeared with dirt and blood. She uncurled her hand and held it out to him.
Hud ran a finger over her bleeding palm. “Your hands are pretty beat up,” he said. “Your knees, too.”
She looked down and was surprised to see holes in the knees of her jeans, the skin beneath raw and streaked with dirt. “I think it was digging through all that loose rock and concrete,” she said. “Trying to get away.”
She began to cry then. She couldn’t help it. The sheer awfulness of everything that had happened hit her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized between sobs.
Hud held her, patting her back, making soothing noises. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s all going to be okay.”
Sanderlin left and the EMTs arrived. They cut away the torn jeans just above her knee, cleaned her wounds and gave her a tetanus vaccination. “You’re going to be pretty sore for a few days,” one said. “But you should be okay. See your doctor if there’s any sign of infection or you start to run a fever.”
She nodded. Really, all she wanted right this minute was to take a shower, put on clean clothes, and climb under the covers and sleep away this whole nightmare.
That wasn’t going to happen, though. As soon as the EMTs left, Commander Sanderlin returned. “We need to get your statement about what happened,” he said.
She wanted to say no. But she had promised to help
them, and this was part of helping. “All right.”
“I’ll drive your car to headquarters,” Hud said. “After you’ve given your statement, I’ll take you home.”
“That’s the most wonderful thing you could have said to me right now.” She even managed a smile, though she could still feel the tears walled behind the thinnest of panes of glass, which might shatter any moment. She had never been the weepy type and hated feeling this way now. But maybe this happened to anyone who had seen men shot right in front of her and who had almost died herself.
Ranger headquarters was quiet and almost empty, a sharp contrast to the construction site, which had swarmed with people. Hud led her to the conference room, which was so familiar to her now, then filled a glass with water and set it in front of her. “I’m going to get the recording equipment set up,” he said.
Commander Sanderlin came in. “I know you’re probably feeling pretty rough right now,” he said. “But we need to get all the information you can give us. It’s important.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“We have the recording of your conversation with Ruffino,” Sanderlin said. But we need you to fill in the visuals—facial expressions, gestures, all the subtext we weren’t able to see.”
“I’ll do my best.” She took a drink of water. “I’m still in shock,” she said. “I’m not sure if I trust my memory.”
“Just do the best you can,” Hud said. He sat by her side, and Sanderlin took the chair across from her, on the other side of the table.
“Start by describing everything that happened after you left your house,” Sanderlin said. “Then we’ll go back over everything and clarify anything that needs it.”
So she described driving to the construction site, finding Ruffino waiting, and everything she could remember about their exchange. When she got to the moment where he had been shot, she faltered. “I never saw the bodyguard draw his weapon,” she said. “I was talking to Ruffino and one minute he was there and the next minute...” She shook her head, the horror of the moment once more replaying in her mind.
