by V. B. Tenery
Her fingers touched my now visible cheek. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
I shook my head. “I should have done more. I can’t stand by and let him beat you.”
“Noah, I don’t pretend to understand how or why you can do the things you do. But I do know God bestowed the powers for a reason. The one thing I’m sure of is you are not supposed to hurt other people just because you’re special.”
Our eyes lock. “Mom, I couldn’t take him on without the invisibility. He’d just beat up both of us. We have to get out of here tonight. He’ll be back, and he’ll hurt you again. Let me call Grandma. She’ll come pick us up. Please, we’ve got to leave now.”
She reaches out, tears shimmer in her eyes. “Tomorrow when he goes to work, I’ll pack our things. We can’t leave in the middle of the night.”
Even my child’s mind knows waiting is a bad idea.
A loud knock pulled me back from the dream’s shadows. Dazed, I shook my head to dispel the cobwebs. Morning had come, but the storm still raged.
With a jerk, I pulled on my clothes and stumbled barefoot down the stairs. Who in their right mind would come out in this weather? The lock slid back smoothly, and I eased the door open. Snow-filled wind blew me back into the entryway along with Amos Horne.
Shoulder against the portal, I heaved the door shut. “What brings you out in this blizzard?”
He shook the snow from his coat, tossed it on the rack by the door, and scowled at me. “You left me a message to come, remember?”
”Yes, but I figured you were smart enough not to risk your life.”
He shrugged and followed me into the kitchen where he drew out a barstool at the island. He gazed around the room. “You’re living the good life, huh?”
“It helps to have rich friends.” I poured us each a cup of coffee and shoved one across to him.
He blew a breath into the cup and took a sip. “What’s up?”
After a moment’s hesitation, I quelled my conscience. I left the room, returned with the photograph of Ralph Jensen, and placed it in front of Amos. “Take this to Sally Benedetti in the crime lab. Tell her to age it ten years. She’ll do it. She likes me.”
His craggy brow creased. “Imagine that, somebody who actually likes you.” He dropped his head and then looked up at me. “We could get in a world of trouble if anyone finds out we know where you are, much less helping you. I’ve never seen London so mad. He storms through the courthouse corridors looking for scalps, and he’s not particular about whose he takes.”
I placed my cup on the bar, searched for signs of reluctance in his expression, and found none. He was only venting.
“The picture belongs to Ben Marshall’s cellmate at San Quentin. I’ve taken advantage of our friendship, and I wouldn’t have if I could handle this personally. The picture is the only lead in Abigail Armstrong’s disappearance. I’m hoping you want to see the case solved as much as I do.”
Amos took the picture and placed it in his jacket pocket. He was a friend, but more importantly, he was a cop. He would take the snapshot to Sally.
“You need to get this London thing under control. Internal Affairs has brought charges against the guard on duty when Rachel London escaped.
That made me feel lower than pond scum. “Tell Jessie to claim somebody drugged her. Also, tell her to give Jake Stein a call. He’ll represent her. I’ll call and set it up with Jake.”
Amos stared at me as perception dawned in his black eyes. “And how did you know Jessie was the guard?” He smashed his fist hard on the counter. “Noah, did you help that woman escape?”
“You don’t want to know the answer to that question.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” He shook his head, and a grin turned the corners of his mouth upward. ”But someday, after I retire, you’re going to have to tell me how you pulled that off.”
“That’s something else you don’t want to know. Have you eaten?”
He shook his head.
I refilled his coffee cup. “Let me put on some shoes, and I’ll whip up some breakfast burritos.”
Thirty minutes later while we were finishing the last of the burritos, Amos stopped in mid-chew, his gaze pensive. “You ever ask yourself why you do what you do? I mean taking on a crooked judge like London with city hall behind him?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, in times like this when the bad guys have the upper hand.”
“Why do you keep doing it?”
That question often crossed my mind, and I paused for a moment before responding. “The short answer is there’s too much injustice in the world. Too many like Rachel and Cody with the system skewed against them. The real reason is, I think of myself as a leveler—making the odds even so regular people get an even break.”
His jaw tightened and he looked away. “If I had a hero, it would be you, Noah. You got more guts than brains.”
Embarrassed, I laughed to cover the discomfort. “I’ll remember you said that when we’re sharing a cell in the federal prison in Rawlins.”
Amos drove back to the city, and I tidied up the place.
Later that afternoon, the weather cleared, and I grabbed a sandwich at a burger shack near the lake. As I paid the cashier, my cell phone trilled its patriotic melody. It drew the attention of nearby customers. I think they felt a need to stand and place one hand over their hearts.
“I’m driving into the city tonight. I need to talk to you.” It was Emma’s voice on the phone
I pocketed my change. “Sure, anything wrong at the ranch? You haven’t heard from Harry London, have you?”
“No. If he’s traced Cody’s call, we don’t know about it. Things are quiet, but Rachel’s still nervous.”
“How about I take you to dinner at Chateau Bennett when you get to Hebron? Mabel’s a friend of mine, and the food is great. She’ll give us a private room. I’ll meet you there at six thirty.”
“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be seen in Hebron?” Her words were slow, tired.
I must have lost my touch. Women I invited to dinner didn’t usually sound depressed. “It’ll be OK. Mabel knows about my situation. Wait until you see my new disguise, a scruffy look, eleven-day-old beard and all. Girls love it. You may not recognize me.”
“I’ll recognize you.”
Chateau Bennett, Hebron
I arrived early. Mabel opened the restaurant’s back door and led me to the private room we’d pre-arranged. “You do like to live dangerously, don’t you?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Important date?
I laughed. “No, just dinner with a friend.”
“You’re no fun.” She brought my iced tea and returned to her post at the entrance.
The dinner crowd hadn’t arrived yet. Through the small one-way mirror to the left of the table, I watched waiters scurry under tiered chandeliers, checking tablecloths and flowers at each station. Savory steak-on-the-grill aromas drifted from the kitchen. Someday, I had to ask Mabel about that window. There had to be a juicy story there.
Through the window, I saw Mabel weave her way through the dining room toward my hide-a-way, Emma in tow.
Usually attired in jeans and boots, tonight Emma wore a simple black dress and heels. I held out a chair for her. “You clean up real good.”
She almost laughed.
Seated in the nook at Chateau Bennett, I asked the question on my mind since her phone call. “So, what’s the problem? You sounded down earlier.”
Emma regarded her nails for a moment, seeming to search for words, and then blurted, “You need to find another place for Rachel and Cody. I know I said they could stay as long as needed—I’ve changed my mind.” She dropped her gaze back to her manicure.
I patted her hand. “Don’t look so depressed, Emma. I told you that you have the prerogative to back out of the deal anytime. Besides, we still have the problem Harry might trace Cody’s call. It could be a good move to find them another safe house.”
Her eyes wel
led up. “I do feel bad. I love Rachel and Cody...”
“What’s the problem, Emma? This is Noah––you can tell me.”
Her jaw muscles tightened and her lips narrowed as she pressed them together. “It’s Bill. I’m afraid he’s fallen in love with Rachel—a married woman. Bill’s a preacher, for heaven’s sakes. I know how much his faith means to him. I can’t watch him ruin his life.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid to. I don’t know how he’ll react. I’m not a meddlesome mother...” Misery lined her face.
“Emma, you need to discuss this with him. Maybe he has feelings for Rachel; maybe he doesn’t. I don’t know. But he’s a pastor first. He’ll make the right choices. You did a good job raising your son. Sit down and talk with him. In the meantime, I’ll look for a place to move Rachel and Cody.”
She fingered the silverware. “I feel so bad about this. I made a commitment, and now I’ve backed out on you. You saved my ranch, and I can’t even do a simple favor.” Tears slipped from under her lashes.
“Stop it, Emma. We’ve been through this. You paid me well for the job I did. You don’t owe me anything.”
She relaxed against the back of the booth and expelled a deep breath. “Rachel’s a sweet, wonderful woman. I just don’t want to see Bill walk away from the job God called him to do.”
“Don’t borrow trouble, Emma. You may be worrying needlessly. I have a place my grandmother left me. I’ll need to tighten security around the old homestead, make sure things still work, but it won’t take more than a couple of days. That shouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t take them there that first night because Harry could have traced them through me.”
Emma’s face tightened. “Are you sure? If anything happened to Rachel and Cody after I’d sent them away, I could never...”
“Don’t worry so much. This really isn’t your problem. You took them in when you didn’t have to. Besides, if Harry intended to check out my old homestead, he would have done so by now. They’ll be safe there.”
“Is that a promise?”
I hedged. “There are no guarantees in life, but I wouldn’t leave them unless I felt confident of their safety. I have to go out of town tomorrow, but I’ll make arrangements to move Rachel and Cody when I return.”
As we readied to leave, I slipped cash between the folders of the check presenter and handed it to Mabel. “Thanks for setting this up, Mabel. The food was outstanding, as usual.”
She winked and squeezed my arm. “Anytime, neighbor.”
I followed Emma back to her hotel and made sure she entered the lobby safely. As I drove away, thoughts of moving Rachel and Cody troubled me.
My grandmother’s home sat on a ten-acre tract in a rural community outside Hebron. Built by my grandfather during a flush period in his accounting firm—his wife’s dream home. A gracious two-story frame they’d hoped to fill with grandchildren. When my father died in the last days of the Vietnam War, the dream ended. I couldn’t bring myself to sell the homestead. Too many memories haunted the rooms and hallways, mostly good ones.
I’d put on a face of assurance for Emma, but it was risky. The house was isolated and exposed. Even more important, Bill Hand wouldn’t be close by to protect them.
12
Noah’s Home, Hebron, Wyoming
I returned to my condominium after following Emma to her hotel. Not smart, but I needed additional clothing and wanted to check on the pups. According to Amos, the HPD had suffered budget cuts and was short on manpower. With luck, they’d given up waiting for me to show.
After a couple of passes down my street, it looked safe. If the police were still around, they wouldn’t recognize Jake’s Jeep. A thin sheet of ice covered the streets, sidewalks, and gutters, a present left by the recent snowstorm. Before pulling into the alley behind my house, I parked four houses down and watched.
The dimly lit neighborhood sat quiet, lined by stark, nude trees. I scanned the block for strange cars. The Buick was conspicuous by its absence. Things appeared normal enough. All sane people would be inside by the fire. I pulled the Jeep into the alley and crunched through the snow to my back entrance.
Another one of those bitter, wintry days I should be used to by now, days when hard cold winds whipped down from Canada, lashing my skin and stinging my eyes. I snuggled down into my jacket and tugged the hood tighter around my head.
As I reached my backdoor, a crash against the stockade fence beside me sounded like a mad rhinoceros on the move.
Car keys fell from my hand, and I searched wildly through layered clothing for my Glock. I clutched the gun in shaky hands and turned.
In the moonlight, a huge head reared above the fence, fangs bared.
I sucked cold air to steady my nerves. “Attila, you satanic mutt...”
Good ol’ Attila, the Doberman next door, had a blood lust for my type: O-negative. I considered shooting him, but it would wake the neighborhood. I’m a dog lover, but Attila was an exception. I sheathed the pistol, retrieved my keys from the snow, and unlocked the door. The fragrance of pine drifted into the kitchen, brought in by the cold breeze that whipped down the alley like a wind tunnel.
Brutus met me with a whine.
Something wasn’t right.
As a rule, the pups don’t whine, and Bella was missing.
Without flipping on the lights, I followed Brutus through the house and downstairs to the basement.
The glow from the television flickered across a body on the floor.
Bella lay with her head on Ted’s stomach—his broad face covered in blood. “Ted!”
Heart hammering like a manic jackhammer, I dropped to his side and jerked off my gloves. Cradling his head in one arm, I searched for a pulse in the carotid artery. Warm, sticky ooze covered my fingers, but the strong throb told me he was alive and reasonably stable. Blood flowed from a large bump on his skull, still wet. Someone hit him hard, and not to too long ago.
The pups raced me to the top step as I clambered upstairs to the medicine cabinet.
At the landing, Brutus pushed past me, turned, and flashed an open-mouth grin. Red stained the white fur around his muzzle. Drops of blood led through the kitchen to the front door.
Brutus had grabbed a piece of the attacker before he’d gotten away.
I snatched towels and my first aid kit and hurried back to Ted. With shaky hands, I dunked the towel in cold water in the basement bathroom, and squeezed it dry. On my knees again, I washed the blood from Ted’s ashen face, put his head on a pillow, and covered him with a blanket. With a low moan, his eyes flickered and opened slowly.
Ted stared up at me, gaze wide with fear. “Noah...my head hurts. Why did the man hit me? Didn’t he like me?”
“He thought you were me. Did you get a look at him?”
Ted nodded and then winced in pain.
“Did you recognize him?”
“No. I didn’t know him, Noah. Don’t know why he hit me if he didn’t know me.”
I patted his hand. “Too dark down here for him to see.”
I struggled to push back the rush of emotions that engulfed me. The effort failed. Why were the innocent among us the victims of the most evil among us? My hands ached to get hold of the guy, but I talked myself down. Ted needed attention. Anyway, whoever hit him had gone. Brutus took care of that.
Crossing to the phone, I called Mabel. I pushed heavy air from my lungs, relieved. “It’s Noah. I was afraid you might not be home yet. Can you come to my place? Ted’s been hurt.”
She inhaled an anxious breath. “How?”
“I don’t think it’s serious, but I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. We probably need to get him to emergency. Have him checked out just to make sure.”
Her voice cracked. “I’m on my way.”
I went upstairs and opened the door.
Mabel crossed the street and swept past me into the entryway. “Where is he?”
In the basement,
she rushed to Ted’s side and cradled his head in her lap. She stared at the gash on his head and tossed me an angry glare. “What happened?”
“An intruder struck him. I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t knowingly place Ted in danger. I love him almost as much as you do.”
The lines around her mouth softened. “I know that.” A lone tear rolled down her cheek. “He shouldn’t have been watching TV here, anyway. I think it makes him feel grownup to be here alone. It’s just...if Ted were seriously hurt, I...”
“I know...I know.” I put my arms around her shoulders. “The cut doesn’t look serious. He’ll be fine.”
She wiped her eyes and straightened. The steel was back in her spine. “I’m OK. I can do this. I’ll call 9-1-1. You know they’ll bring the police. What should I tell them?”
“The truth, except the part where I found him. Someone jimmied the front door so that will match the intruder theory. Just give me ten minutes to get away before you place the call. Maybe later, Ted can pick out the thug from the station’s mug shots.”
I gathered up jackets, sweaters, snow boots, and wrote my throwaway cell number on a business card. I handed her the number and squeezed her hand. “Let me know what the doctor says. I’ll call and check on him.”
She gave her watch a quick glance. “You best get going. We’ve had more than one visit from the police since you left. They stopped Ted while he walked your dogs. An officer asked him to call if you turned up.” Mabel smiled. “Ted told them he wouldn’t call. You were his friend.”
“Thanks, Mabel. I’ll have the kennel pick up Bella and Brutus for a week or so, just until Ted feels better. He can take over again whenever he wants. The kennel guy will be here tomorrow. We’ve done this drill before. He won’t need a key since the locks broken. I’ll have a locksmith come out and take care of it and leave the key with you.”
She nodded and pushed me toward the stairway. “Get going. Ted will be disappointed, but it’s best, at least until this situation blows over.”
God willing, it would take the authorities fifteen minutes to get to my place. At the Jeep, I opened the door and threw the clothes into the backseat. Before I could get in, a car swung in behind me and jammed the bumper against the Jeep’s backend.
