Nicked

by Michael Arches

  The police chief didn’t reply for a moment, and this time, Beau waited.

  Finally, the chief said, “Uh…okay. Good points. I’ll get right on that investigation. I don’t expect you to take my word for it, but it’s not me.”

  As soon as Beau hung up, one of the CBI agents approached him. “Lenny is looking for you. He found that woman you told us about, Dawn Miller.”

  “Great news. Where are they?”

  The agent took Beau toward a large open area with a bar and lots of seating. More than a dozen guys were milling around with their hands zip-tied behind them. Near the bar, a closed door was marked Private. The agent opened it and waved Beau in.

  Lenny sat in front of a large oak desk next to a tall blonde wearing a silver, sequined dress. She was laughing and crying at the same time until Beau stepped through the door. It was Dawn. She was even more drop-dead gorgeous than her pictures.

  Lenny said, “Here’s my partner in crime. Beau Boudreau deserves more credit than anybody else in finding you, Dawn.”

  The woman jumped up from her chair and rushed toward him in her bare feet. She gave him a hug a python would be proud of. Her whole body shivered.

  Beau felt a little guilty for taking credit for Athena’s help, but she had good reasons for staying in the background.

  “Great to meet you,” Beau said. “I’m sorry it took us so long to find you.”

  Her voice quivered. “Yeah, me too. I was just telling Lenny about the other female prisoners. Skye Dunbar is the only survivor, and Maude and Kane still have her. I’ve no idea where those monsters took her.”

  Beau pushed down his disappointment That was the most important question he was going to ask, and her answer left him feeling hollow. “Don’t worry, we’ll find Skye the same way we found you, by sifting through every detail until the truth reveals itself. We’ve already issued a press release with Gacy’s name, face, and truck. Do you have any guess at all where they might be going?”

  Dawn shook her head. “Sometimes Skye and I overheard things, but not today. A few hours ago, Maude returned to the house, furious. Said we had to leave right away. We quickly packed and took off in her white pickup. Her boyfriend, Kane Erickson, came along. She and Kane sold me to the shithead who runs this place for thirty thousand bucks, but I have no idea where they planned to go next.”

  Dawn, Beau, and Lenny sat together as she summarized what’d happened to her, Isabella, and a dead woman Beau hadn’t even known was missing, Heather Lloyd. But none of that gave Beau any good leads for finding Skye.

  When Dawn finished with the basic info, Beau gave her his phone so she could call her parents. While she talked with them, Beau asked Lenny, “What happened to the assholes running this horror show? Our informant says they’re part of the Santiago cartel.”

  “I believe it. They tried to hide in a secret space behind this office.” He cackled. “But it wasn’t secret enough. Some nights, I love this job. A super-sexy, redheaded bartender had watched them slip around a corner and showed me approximately where they’d vanished. Without her help, I never would’ve suspected the hidey-hole existed. One of the guys used an ax from the bus to break the wall open. The bastards could’ve waited until we all left and slipped away.”

  Lenny’s story warmed Beau’s heart. “It pays to be nice to your employees, doesn’t it? I can’t tell you how many times a disgruntled employee has helped me solve a case.”

  Lenny nodded. “That’s the gospel truth. We also found $160K in a satchel one of the guys had with him.”

  “Any chance they’ll tell us anything? I’d particularly like to know who protected them in local law enforcement.”

  “Really doubt it,” Lenny said. “These guys are pro thugs. Wouldn’t answer any of my questions. Just said, ‘We want fucking lawyers.’”

  -o-o-o-

  Beau was happy to drive Dawn home to Boulder. He not only wanted more time to ask her questions, but he loved family reunions. Dawn’s turned out to be particularly joyous.

  When he was sure the Miller house was locked up tight with a city cop posted outside, he headed back to his apartment in Denver. There, he traded emails with Athena to make sure each knew everything the other did. That long-distance mind-meld took hours because Dawn had told him so much.

  On a different subject, Beau was relieved to hear that the US Marshals protecting Athena had finally realized the cartel would stop at nothing to kill her. Wyoming’s governor probably should’ve called out the National Guard days ago, but he finally got to it.

  And lastly, Beau appreciated his girlfriend’s cleverness in tracking Maude Gacy, or at least her phone—to Winter Park of all places. Unfortunately, it was a Friday night in March, and a foot of snow had just fallen in the mountains. That meant several thousand people were crowding into Winter Park for the weekend. The crush of excited skiers would make finding Maude a lot harder.

  Beau decided to drive there in the morning, but he knew he’d need to be lucky as hell to find Maude. Hopefully, Rufus Gacy and Kane Erickson were with her. They all deserved to be locked up for the rest of their lives.

  -o-o-o-

  Berthoud Pass, south of Winter Park, Colorado

  Skye thought the ride would never end. She’d ridden in the back of the truck four or five hours since they’d left the farm. At first the road had been flat, but then they’d entered the mountains. She couldn’t see much through the ice and snow-packed back window, but she could tell when they began climbing into the highlands. Several times, the truck slid sideways, which made Skye wonder whether they were going to pitch over a cliff and tumble to their deaths.

  That didn’t happen. Instead, Maude drove through a town before stopping in total darkness and turning the engine off. The witch finally opened the back of the canopy. “No cute moves, or I’ll shock the shit out of you.”

  Was this where Skye would meet her lonesome end or proceed to another life? The engineer in her was skeptical about either alternative. “Where are we?”

  Maude opened the tailgate. “Doesn’t matter. Get out, shut up, and bring your stuff.”

  Skye’s limbs ached as she emerged from the cocoon she’d made with her clothes and Dawn’s. The cold was so bitter it hurt to breathe. Scotland had brutal winters, but no cold like this.

  Skye slid across the tailgate and dropped onto a hard surface. The truck was parked inside a dark garage. Kane’s snowy car sat next to the pickup. Skye could make out the dim outline of evergreen trees across the road from the house. Above their shadows, a million stars glistened like sequins in the cloudless night.

  Maude led Skye deeper into the garage to where a pair of dim buttons glowed on a wall. The woman pushed both at the same time, and two garage doors closed. Then, Maude ushered Skye into a brightly lit, richly furnished home.

  Kane stepped out of a room along a thickly carpeted hall.

  “Is that the bathroom?” Maude asked.

  He nodded. She dashed inside and closed the door.

  Skye had to go, too, after waiting so long. It took all her effort to avoid peeing inside her pants, and Maude took a bloody long time.

  When at last the witch finished, Skye was allowed in to do her business.

  After she washed her hands, she cupped them and filled them with water. Took several drinks because she didn’t know when she’d get another chance.

  As soon as she emerged, Maude pointed down the hall at an open door. “That’s your room. Get you and your stuff in there.”

  Skye grabbed the bedsheet wrapped around her things and Dawn’s, then pulled everything into the room. Maude removed Skye’s shackles and took the shock collar before closing the door behind Skye. The door contained a deadbolt that was keyed on both sides. The lock clicked.

  The beige carpet was luxurious, and the walls were covered with an ivory wallpaper decorated with various tiny flowers. The brass twin-sized bed included a pillow, sheets, and a fluffy down comforter. At least,
this is a hell of a lot better than the cellar.

  But could she get away? Skye stepped over to the room’s single window and drew open the curtains. One half of the window slid sideways to reveal an insect screen and metal bars that kept her inside. Did every house in this feckin’ country include bars over the windows?

  She sat on the twin bed. A pretty prison is still a prison.

  In addition to the bed, the room contained an old clawfoot dresser, an antique padded desk chair, and a matching table about a meter square. The small closet was empty.

  While she sat on the bed, she pondered how to get out of this latest cage. Fortunately, she’d brought along her broken hacksaw blade and her makeshift knife. She hid them both underneath the dresser, pushing them back until they hit the wall.

  Skye listened at the door, but she couldn’t hear Maude or Kane talking. Maybe they’d gone to bed. She needed time to think, so she laid in bed wondering. Her mind kept racing. In particular, she couldn’t stop thinking about Dawn. What horror was being visited upon her? And when Skye wasn’t worrying about her friend, she wondered what would happen to herself. Would either of them ever see their families again?

  Chapter 21

  Cow Palace Public House

  After a good night’s sleep, Athena prepared for her big day on the stand. Revenge was supposed to be a dish best served cold, but she had no idea what that meant. She’d waited two and a half years for justice, and her revenge seemed stale and moldy—exactly two and a half years too late.

  Janet arranged for them to eat breakfast in the room. Hagrid got an extra-large portion of chow because she didn’t know how long he’d be left alone.

  Roger arranged for three identical Bradley Fighting Vehicles to take the judge, witnesses, and security staff from inside the hotel’s garage to inside the basement of the courthouse. But only the people being transported knew who rode in which vehicle. Soldiers in full battle gear patrolled the streets. No trouble, for once.

  A dozen marshals met Athena and the other witnesses upstairs and took them to a small waiting room guarded by several armed bailiffs.

  The witnesses weren’t permitted to hear Elijah’s opening statement or to talk about their own testimony. While Athena waited to be called to the stand, she read the Cheyenne paper. It reported on the latest attempt on her life, which was officially being called an accidental gas explosion. While the reporter didn’t openly dispute that theory, he mentioned the recent attempt on Athena’s life.

  Finally, one of the bailiffs who’d known Athena for years entered the waiting room. “Okay, champ, you’re up. Knock ’em dead.”

  He and two others escorted her to the courtroom. It was basically a rectangle, with half of the space filled by the gallery, and most of the benches were full.

  The other half of the room contained the judge’s massive wooden bench, a small desk nearby for his clerk, a witness stand on the far side of the bench, an empty jury box, and a couple of tables near the gallery for learned counsel.

  One bailiff guarded the door, and the other stood near the judge’s clerk. Dominique Santiago sat upright at the defense table, pretending to be a queen without a robe or a crown.

  Judge Trujillo had practiced real estate law in Jackson for forty years before he was appointed to the bench. Because he was the only federal judge in Wyoming Athena hadn’t appeared before on multiple occasions, he was the only choice to oversee the trial.

  Norma welcomed Athena to the prosecution’s table with a hug while Elijah and a defense lawyer argued in front of the judge. After a hug, Norma whispered, “They’re still fighting over which pictures of your injuries we can show the jury. The defense claims they’re all inflammatory.”

  “Of course, they are,” Athena whispered back. “That’s what happens when some innocent bystander takes a bullet to the forehead.”

  Norma nodded, but Athena knew showing the pictures to the jury wasn’t necessary. They’d marvel that she’d somehow survived, and lots of gory pictures would increase the risk that Santiago’s lawyers could win a new trial on appeal.

  When Elijah returned to the prosecutors’ table, he whispered to Athena and Norma, “Could’ve pushed harder, but why? Most of the photographs are out. Athena will show her scars to the jury, and the ER doctor will introduce one photo of the entry wound that was taken after all the blood had been washed away.”

  “Fine with me,” Athena said. She particularly didn’t want to see the photos of how a .38 caliber slug had blasted a nasty hole out of the back of her skull above and behind her right ear. Every time she thought about it, she almost puked.

  How could anyone have survived that? She still didn’t understand. The ER doctor was going to testify that it was only because the bullet had been surrounded by a full metal jacket. That shell had prevented the slug from breaking apart inside her head and banging around.

  At that moment, Leo gave her a good kick in a kidney. At the perfect time, he’d reminded her how blessed she was. He kept her steady.

  The jury filed into the courtroom, escorted by two more bailiffs. Judge Trujillo admonished them to ignore any extraneous things they might’ve heard about the case or could hear before their deliberations began. One bailiff stood between the jury box and the part of the gallery that was only a few feet away.

  Athena glanced around to see if she could recognize anyone. Her parents had promised her that a large contingent from Cody would come to support her, particularly after the recent attacks. She recognized about twenty people sitting together near the jury box. Her mother was chewing on her nails again. Had probably gnawed them down to the quick. Athena gave them all a discrete wave, and they smiled and waved back.

  Not far from her brother, she noticed a huge, burly guy who seemed vaguely familiar. He was clean-shaven and had short, light-brown hair. His gaze remained focused on the jury. For some reason, he reminded her of a cougar waiting in a tree for a deer to walk by.

  A zing of worry shot through her. Where have I seen him before?

  Then, her stomach spasmed as she made the connection. His eyes and nose reminded her of the guy who’d been driving Maude Gacy’s white pickup on the day Skye was kidnapped. Is that Rufus?

  But that guy’s hair was dark, and he had a full beard that hid the lower part of his face.

  She touched Elijah’s forearm and whispered about who she suspected was sitting near the jury. Thanks to Beau’s information, she knew about Maude’s connection to the Santiago cartel.

  Elijah jumped to his feet. “Your Honor, excuse me, but something extremely important has come to my attention. May I approach the bench?”

  Judge Trujillo’s forehead furrowed. He probably wasn’t used to being interrupted while preparing jurors for coming testimony. But he said, “Very well. Counsel, please approach."

  Both lead attorneys stood in front of the judge who listened to Elijah for a moment then held up his hand to stop him.

  “Bailiffs,” His Honor said, “this discussion is going to take a few minutes. We will excuse the jury for the moment.”

  The two bailiffs closest to the jurors ushered them toward a door close to the box. As the jurors stood, the suspicious guy hopped up. He jumped the gallery’s waist-high railing and ran toward the nearest juror, a frail, white-haired woman.

  Athena’s dad stood and yelled, “Watch out! Stop that man!”

  “Bailiffs, stop him!” Judge Trujillo yelled and pointed at the attacker.

  By chance, the biggest bailiff, a man who’d played defensive tackle for the Wyoming Cowboys, was positioned between the gallery and the jury. The attacker hit the former Cowboy head-on, but the bailiff remained standing while he reached for his pistol.

  At the same time, the bailiff closest to the struggle pushed the jurors away from the fight. Pandemonium ensued as folks in the gallery and a few of the jurors screamed and yelled.

  Judge Trujillo’s voice boomed over the racket. “Bailiffs, seize that man!”
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  The attacker must’ve realized he’d missed his chance. Instead of fighting, he dashed toward the exit. The giant guy was surprisingly fast, and as he ran, he punched the bailiff who’d been closest to the exit, laying that bailiff out cold. Then the asshole smashed his way through the double doors and disappeared.

  -o-o-o-

  Ski cabin, Winter Park

  Skye woke up and listened. The house was quiet, except for a low hum from the furnace. Unlike the cellar at the farm, her room was blissfully warm. But her body shivered with nerves. Maude and Kane were on the run. How long would they keep her around?

  Maybe they’d keep her as a house slave because they were lazy. If so, she’d happily work eighteen-hour days to save her life.

  She dressed and looked out her window. All she could see was an open area about twenty-five meters wide between her window and a snow-covered road. No vehicles were visible. Across the road, a tall, dense evergreen forest rose up. The tree branches were heavily bent under the weight of the snow covering them. That forest looked impenetrable.

  The lock on the bedroom door clicked. Kane opened it. “We need breakfast.”

  Skye stepped forward. “Yes, sir.”

  The bastard applied the shackles again and wrapped a shock collar around Skye’s neck. Then he led her to a modern, well-furnished kitchen. Bags of groceries sat on the island in the center of the room. Skye also found more food in the refrigerator. “What would you like to eat, sir?”

  Before he answered, Maude walked through an open archway that led to a large living area. Skye caught a glimpse of several panoramic windows. “Kane and I will each have coffee, two eggs, four pieces of bacon, and buttered sourdough toast. You’ll have two eggs and tea if you can find any of that shit in this place.”

  Stay alive now to make this witch pay later. “Yes, ma’am.”