Agent Daddy

by Alice Sharpe

  Hal Avery met Trip’s gaze and then looked quickly away as Trip dodged behind the porch railing. The other man was Eddie Reed, who Trip hadn’t realized had even come into work that day.

  Trip wasn’t sure where Roberts was, only that the man holding the gun ten feet away wasn’t him. Too short, too stocky. Gene Edwards, maybe.

  Trip took a cautious step in the snow. Eddie Reed watched him carefully, and that apparently registered on Edwards, who spun quickly, firing as he turned. His bullets went wild, but Trip’s didn’t. Gene Edwards went down like a sack of rocks. More gunfire erupted from in back of Trip. His thigh seemed to explode and he sagged. He was barely aware of Hal Avery taking Edward’s gun off his body and returning fire as Eddie hauled Trip to safety.

  Trip clutched his leg. Blood seeped through his fingers. He dug in his parka pocket for his phone. It was gone, probably lost in the snow when he fell. “Damn,” he muttered.

  Hal Avery ducked back around the corner.

  Trip heard a frantic whinny and looked toward the horse barn. The fire had reached the roof. Poor Buttercup. The only building standing in the fire’s path before it jumped to the house was this cabin. “Anyone got a phone?” he demanded. “We need reinforcements and the fire department.”

  Neither man carried a cell phone. “There’s a water truck in the machine shop,” Trip said. “If someone could reach that, we could use it both as a shield and to protect the house.”

  “I’ll go,” Hal Avery said. “Bastards killed my brother.”

  Eddie kneeled by Trip, offering a grease-smudged rag which Trip pressed against his leg. “I have an idea,” he said.

  Trip listened carefully as Eddie sputtered out details, his nerves making him talk a mile a minute. The plan was dangerous but it could work, and best of all, if it did, it safeguarded Faith and the kids.

  The fact was if there were only two gunmen, one dead now, Faith and the kids were safest right where they were. But how did he know for sure how many gunmen there were? And even if it was just Roberts left, who said he wouldn’t use Faith and the kids as hostages?

  Trip tried to stand but his leg wouldn’t support him. He stared hard at Eddie and said, “There’s not much snow, you know, you’d have to be very careful.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay, Eddie, you try to get to the back of the house, Hal, you get to the machine shop. I’ll provide a diversion.” He tied the rag around his leg to stem the blood flow and shifted position again.

  Hal took off in one direction, Eddie another, as Trip propped himself against the edge of the building and shouted. “Neil? Let’s talk about what you want.”

  “I want you. Simple.”

  Trip reloaded his gun. “Let’s see if we can come up with a different plan,” he yelled.

  “No negotiation, FBI man,” Roberts said. From the sound of his voice, he was moving when he said it.

  Trip lay on his belly, clearing the snow out of his way. Looking under the cabin, he got a pretty good view of the front of the house near the parking area. He yelled, “You know this isn’t going to end well, Neil.”

  He saw a movement over by the horse barn. Roberts was making his way toward Trip’s position. Trip would never be able to outrun him. He didn’t need to outrun him, he just needed to stop him long enough for Eddie to get Faith and the kids out of harm’s way and for Hal to get the water truck.

  “Ain’t going to end well for which one of us?” Roberts hollered, on the move again, veering toward the parked trucks. Even if Trip could lead him and get a shot off, the most he could hit was a leg. That was better than nothing, but it wouldn’t entirely neutralize him.

  Wait a second! He was running toward the parked cars. The truck had a full tank of gas.

  Trip braced his gun hand on a rock and waited.

  ARMED WITH A KITCHEN knife, Faith pulled the kids down on the floor under the table where flying glass wouldn’t be as likely to hit them.

  She dug her cell phone out of her purse. Powered up, it beeped twice, flashed a low-battery message and turned itself off. In frustration, she threw it across the kitchen.

  Noelle sobbed softly against her new doll and Faith pulled her closer. She kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay, honey, I promise.”

  “Daddy will come for us?”

  “Yes, of course he will.”

  She heard the fire roaring outside, punctuated by explosions. It was hard not to think about Trip’s sister and her husband dying in a fire just a few months before in virtually the same spot.

  For what seemed an eternity she sat there holding the children, trying to keep Colin from fussing or crawling away, unsure what the noises she heard meant. She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the rattle of the back door a few minutes later. It had to be Trip. Handing Colin to Noelle, she crawled across the floor, knife in hand, then inched up the wall next to the door. There was a window set into the door and a curtain covering the window.

  Good heavens, if it was a madman with a gun, he’d break the window—he wouldn’t knock!

  She slid the curtain back. Eddie Reed. Taking a deep breath, she held the knife by her leg and opened the door.

  Eddie came inside quickly, along with smoke-tinged air.

  “You and the kids are supposed to come with me,” he said, his gaze darting around the kitchen. Noelle struggled to her feet with Colin dangling in her arms and Faith set the knife down to help her.

  “What about Trip and the others?”

  Eddie studied Faith’s face. Her fingers went to touch her scars and then she remembered all the new scrapes and bruises. No wonder he stared at her. “Mr. Tripper took a bullet,” he said. “But he’s real worried about you, Miss Bishop.”

  The air seemed to be sucked out Faith’s lungs as she whispered, “Is he hurt badly? I have to go—”

  He caught her arm. “I don’t know for sure how bad he’s hurt. Mr. Plum is down, too. Mr. Tripper told me to get you and the kids out the back way before it’s too late. He’s afraid your cabin is going to go up next, and after that, it’ll be the house.”

  As if to punctuate the urgency, Faith heard bullets or explosions or both coming from the front yard. “Miss Bishop?” Eddie said, helping Noelle zip her fluffy coat and boots. “The boss made it pretty clear I’m supposed to get you guys out the back while he keeps the gunmen busy in the front.”

  Noelle, hooded now, pulled on her mittens. Faith zipped Colin into the snowsuit she’d brought downstairs for him and threw on her own jacket and hat. She grabbed the duffle bag and followed Eddie outside.

  “What now?”

  “This way. Keep the baby quiet,” Eddie said as he picked up Noelle.

  Faith held Colin’s head against her shoulder as she followed Eddie across the snowy field toward the garden shack. Eddie opened the doors and they all rushed inside. He put Noelle down at once and focused on a snowmobile that took up almost all available floor space, pushing old bags of potting soil and garden tools aside.

  “That?” she said. “We’re leaving on that?”

  “Yeah. I found it my first day here when I looked in all the buildings. I don’t think Mr. Tripper even knew it was here. Oh, and look, it’s got a full tank of gas. It’s our lucky day, huh?”

  “Sure, real lucky. But it’s dangerous for children—”

  “More dangerous than bullets and fire? Don’t worry, it won’t be a long ride,” he said as he flung the shack door open wide for a getaway.

  He’d made his point. Eddie put Noelle behind him, then Faith climbed on behind Noelle, holding a very distraught Colin sandwiched between them. The duffle bag hung from her arm. They took off in a spray of snow, veering away from the house. Faith tried to look back but all she could see was black smoke flicked with flames.

  The machine was incredibly loud, the ride bumpy and frightening, mainly because of her overriding fear for the kids and the terrible uneasiness in the wake of abandoning Trip. The snow was still in abeyance, but the wind com
bined with the speed of the snowmobile sent icy fingers through every gap in her clothing. Conversation of any kind was impossible.

  Eventually, the land began to slope upward and the snow got deeper, the wind more harsh. Faith bowed her head to keep the stinging cold from biting the new abrasions on her face and tried not to think about Trip.

  But that was impossible. Eddie said he’d taken a bullet. At least he was conscious and still making decisions, but the thought he could also be bleeding to death tortured her.

  She should have told him she loved him. Before he went outside and all hell broke loose, she should have told him what he meant to her and let him tell her whatever it was he wanted to say. If she never got the chance to tell him or hear those words from his lips, she’d regret it forever.

  And what would happen to the children if something happened to Trip? She tucked her head against Noelle’s and tried to imagine a world without Trip and these two kids, and she just could not.

  He circled the hillside which grew increasingly more forested. The ride got choppier, staying aboard trickier, straining her muscles to the breaking point. After an interminable amount of time, they left the forest and crossed a field, then entered an area heavily planted with evergreen trees. All the trees were about the same size and close together, the lower branches shielding much of the ground. There was a uniform and yet ragged appearance to them, like an overgrown crop.

  Or an overgrown Christmas tree farm.

  The way became easier now, as Eddie guided the snowmobile along a road running alongside the trees, dodging fallen limbs and debris as the wind continued to whip things around. He stopped at long last under a sloping roof attached to a barn opposite a very old, white two-story house. The house was set amid the usual scattering of outbuildings.

  The sudden quiet when he turned off the engine was almost deafening. Faith immediately climbed off, stumbling for a moment as her knees wobbled, clutching Colin to her with the fierceness of a mother bear. She was so cold she was numb. Steadying herself, she helped Noelle to her feet.

  “You all right, honey?” she asked.

  “I’m freezing,” the little girl said around chattering teeth.

  “I got to thinking the best thing would be to bring you to my house,” Eddie said, taking off his gloves. He’d worn the one helmet that had been looped over the handlebars, and that came off next. His expression was as uncomplicated as ever. “Come on inside and I’ll make the kids something warm to drink. We can call the cops.”

  “Okay,” Faith said. The truth? She was a little annoyed they’d come so far to get to a phone, when Trip had a closer neighbor by far, but she let it go. What was the point of stewing? They crossed the snowy yard and climbed the porch stairs. As she and Noelle stamped the snow from their shoes, Eddie unlocked the door and gestured them inside. He closed the door behind them and switched on the lights.

  The inside of the house smelled musty and appeared run-down, just like the outside, but it was filled with enough handmade crafts to open a country store. Noelle audibly gasped with wonder as she spied the shelves lined with plush animals, dolls sitting on quilted cushions, their embroidered eyes and lips smiling a welcome. There was a time-out-of-time quality to the room that under ordinary circumstances would have been enchanting.

  But while Faith admired the skill and effort necessary to create such a collection, her focus was Trip. “Where’s your phone?” she asked as Colin grabbed at her hat. She took the snow-crusted knit hat off and put it atop her coat by the front door.

  “In the kitchen,” he said. “It’s warmer in there, come on.”

  Faith helped Colin and Noelle out of their icy outerwear before following Eddie through a swinging door. One glance took in a sink full of dirty dishes and cluttered drain boards. Maybe Eddie’s mother was so disabled she stayed upstairs, because the kitchen had a definite uncared-for look that was at odds with the parlor.

  But it was the phone Faith was desperate to find and she finally spied it on the wall, hanging by the back door. Holding Colin on her hip, she took the phone off the hook. It was an old rotary model she hadn’t seen since she was a kid. She dialed 9–1-1 while holding the receiver, turning her body to keep Colin from accidentally disconnecting the call. When she finally got the receiver to her ear, her heart sank.

  “The line is dead,” she said with a sinking heart.

  Eddie was at the stove, heating milk in a saucepan over a gas flame. He looked over his shoulder. “Wind must have knocked a branch down and damaged the line.”

  Her head roared with white noise. How could she help Trip now? “I need to take your truck into town to get the police.”

  “Left my truck at the ranch when I brought you and the babies over here,” he said. “Let me think a moment.”

  “How about neighbors?”

  “Five miles to the nearest one.” He added, “You have a bottle for the baby? Can he have warm milk?”

  She didn’t care about milk, warm, cold or otherwise. But as worried as she was about Trip, she was still responsible for his children and she could tell Colin was hungry. “There’s a bottle in with the diapers, I’ll get it.”

  By the time she got back to the kitchen, Eddie was pouring milk into a mug he took from a cupboard for Noelle, adding a dollop of chocolate sauce and stirring it in. Noelle took the mug with a grin and wore a brown mustache within seconds.

  “No chocolate for the baby,” Faith said. “And we’ll have to let it cool.”

  “I didn’t get his too warm,” he said as he poured milk into the bottle.

  Faith tested it on her wrist while Colin grabbed for it, kicking his plump legs and squealing with anticipation.

  As she sat at a chair and gave him the bottle, Eddie set a mug in front of her. He sat down opposite her with a mug of his own. She took a sip. Noelle, who had finished her drink, was beginning to droop.

  “Is your hot chocolate okay?” Eddie asked.

  “Yes, thank you, fine.” She took another swallow, anxious to get it down so Eddie would stop playing host and come up with a alternate plan.

  He seemed to sense her anxiety. “Mama’s car is in the garage. We hardly ever use it, but I keep it running. I can put chains on the tires and drive into Laxton.”

  “Or to the neighbor’s house. It would be closer, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “I could go,” she said.

  “It’s an old car, Miss Bishop, and it might need nursing along in this weather. I’ll go. If Mr. Tripper can trust me, you can, too.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Eddie, but so much time has passed, I’m worried we’re going to be too late. Plus, maybe your mother would be uncomfortable with me and the kids in her home without you here, too.”

  “Mama isn’t home,” he said.

  Faith blinked tired eyes a couple of times. “I thought she was disabled.”

  “She takes the bus into Shay every so often. They got a special hydraulic lift.” He got to his feet. “You stay here, I’ll go get the car ready.”

  “I’ll help you,” she said.

  “It’ll be faster if I do it alone. I’ll hurry, I promise. Then we can all get in the car and drive into Laxton, okay?”

  She nodded as he took a dry coat off the hook by the back door and left the house. A blast of cold air reminded Faith how miserable it was outside.

  Meanwhile, Colin had fallen asleep with half the milk left in the bottle. Noelle’s head tipped forward, her chin touching her chest. Faith got to her feet, her knees wobbly again. “Come on, Noelle, let’s go into the parlor, we’ll put our warm clothes on. We have to be ready to go.”

  She had to nearly drag Noelle back to the parlor, and once there, the little girl immediately climbed onto the sofa and collapsed against the cushions. Faith lay Colin on the other end. For a second she stared down at them, startled by how deeply they slept.

  Alarm bells in the back of her brain rang with muted tones. Coats. Scarves. Mittens. She needed to
find where she’d put them. By the door, maybe. As she turned away from the children, the room began to spin and she stumbled. A vague sense of alarm tugged on her brain. She found herself on her knees, then on her stomach, the pattern of the hooked rug a maze of swirling colors an inch from her nose.

  And then she knew no more.

  SHE AWOKE TO A familiar sound. The room was almost dark. She sat up, her head woozy, and hearing the sound again, turned to find Noelle crying in her sleep.

  She crawled to the sofa and took Noelle’s hand. “Sweetheart?” Faith’s mouth felt dry. In fact, she felt almost like she had twelve hours earlier when she’d awoken in the hospital. “Noelle? Wake up.”

  The child’s eyes didn’t open. Faith shook her gently, but Noelle’s head just rolled to the side and her eyes stayed shut. At least the cries stopped. Faith moved to Colin. The baby lay on his back, both arms flung open, so white he looked dead.

  Time stopped. Her heart stopped. The world stopped.

  And then she saw his chest rise and fall.

  What was going on? Where was Eddie? What was taking so long?

  Something was wrong. She slowly got to her feet, shaking her head, rubbing her eyes, knowing there was something she should be seeing but not sure what it was. She opened the front door and walked outside, almost falling down the stairs. It was cold and she hugged herself.

  She wanted to yell Eddie’s name, but yelling seemed impossible, so she whispered it. For some reason, that reminded her of Trip and her mind cleared a little. Trip. He was in danger. How long had it been? Was he still alive? Wouldn’t she know if he was dead, wouldn’t she feel it?

  She stumbled across the yard. The barn was in front of her, the snowmobile in front of that. She bypassed the machine and opened a small door behind it.

  “Eddie,” she said. He was doing something to his mother’s car…That’s right, they had to get to a phone. He had to be in here somewhere.