by D. V. Berkom
Sand.
I shoved my hand into the wet slurry, launched myself onto my front and dug in with my other fist, fighting the suction, kicking hard, not sure it would work.
Determined to defeat its morbid grip, I heaved my body upward until the raging, sucking river released its hold.
I gasped for air, coughing when I inhaled the last of the brackish water. I rolled onto my back and struggled to a sitting position.
The water roared past, dizzying in its force. The branches left a gash in my side. My shirt was ripped and when I brought my hand away, I felt something other than water. I shivered, teeth chattering uncontrollably, and rotated onto my hands and knees, pushing myself to stand. I’d landed on the same side of the arroyo as the cabin, but didn’t have a clue how far I’d been dragged downriver.
I grabbed onto a handful of roots and a shrub barely clinging to the bank, and pulled myself upward, resolving to reach the top of the arroyo. I’d learned from previous bad situations to establish small, achievable victories or else the magnitude of what I needed to do would overwhelm me. I could figure out what to do once I passed the first step.
I’m not sure how long it took me, but I reached the top and stopped to get my bearings. A gray, watery light cast a gloomy net through the pines. The rain had stopped, for now. Branches bowed, dripping from the heavy downpour. The exertion had warmed me some, but my temperature soon dropped and I knew I had to keep moving or I’d die of exposure. I set out upriver, back toward the cabin. I didn’t know how far it was from town, but figured there had to be a road nearby that led to a highway. Once I got to town, I wanted to be able tell Cole where I’d last seen Dave.
And maybe the Harrisons.
My mood plummeted at the thought of the family that had been on my tour- Blair and Charles and their two goofy kids, Dmitri and Heather. Dmitri had been a pain in my ass, but ten year olds tended to push their boundaries and I found that he grew on me. Heather was a sweet, bookish girl and she got along well with Roxanne the biologist and her scientific jargon.
I assumed the Harrisons had still been alive when I was at the cabin. The thought of what Dave might be capable of now that he’d killed Rollie filled me with grim resolve. I had to get back there, if only to be able to recover the bodies and secure evidence against Dave.
The smell of smoke jarred me out of my thoughts. I noticed a faint glow through the trees and guessed Dave had left the lights on in the cabin. I walked past a stand of pines and the cabin came into full view. Dave’s SUV was parked outside. Surprised, I crouched behind the trees and watched for signs of movement.
He was still here? My heart raced with hope. Maybe he hadn’t killed the Harrisons.
Yet.
Once I determined Dave wasn’t outside, I crept over to his Lexus. Not my lucky day. There was no cell phone lying on the seat. I checked to see if he’d left the keys in the ignition. He hadn’t. I eased the door open, freezing when the hinges creaked. No one came out to investigate. I started to breathe again.
I felt underneath the passenger seat and, finding nothing, laid on my stomach and felt under the driver’s side. Again, nothing. I sat up and opened the console.
Dave’s smart phone.
I searched the apps and found the GPS. Then I called Cole, glancing back at the cabin to watch for Dave. It rang twice, then silence. I checked the screen. No reception. I got out of the truck, easing the door closed with a slight click, and moved to another location in the yard. I was rewarded with two bars. I hit redial. Relief flooded through me when it started to ring.
“Cole Anderson.”
“Cole- thank God. It’s Kate. Dave’s trying to kill-“
“Kate? Is that you? You’re breaking up. Move… better reception…”
I walked closer to the cabin, careful to keep my voice low.
“Is this any better?” No answer.
Beyond frustrated, I redialed his number from several other locations, ready to duck if the cabin door opened. Nothing. I gave up and shoved the phone into the crotch of a pine tree.
Dave was still nowhere to be seen from my limited view of the interior of the cabin, so I crept underneath what I thought was the kitchen window. The sill stood about an inch too tall for me to have a clear view inside. I slid an old orange crate sitting nearby under the window.
The lone light bulb dangling from the kitchen ceiling was on and the fire in the fireplace had long since died. I’d about decided to try a different window when without warning, Dave’s dark-blue suited bulk walked into the kitchen to my left. I ducked below the sill, certain he’d seen me. In a panic, I dove under the porch.
The door opened and the boards above my head groaned with his weight. Ancient particles of dust and dirt cascaded in clumps around me. I tried to quiet my breathing, certain he could hear my heart banging against my chest.
His shadow spilled onto the ground next to the porch as he leaned against the handrail. A piece of ash floated to earth. I held my breath. Blue smoke billowed into the air. A few minutes later he flicked the still-lit cigarette butt into the yard. Then he turned and walked back into the cabin.
With control, I exhaled and closed my eyes. I couldn’t wait for him to leave. The Harrisons might still be alive. I doubted he’d stay at the cabin once he killed them, but I couldn’t be sure.
I crawled out from under the porch and kept to the shadows, skirting the perimeter of the cabin. The windows stood lower at the back and I could see inside. The first one I came to looked into an empty room. The second held the Harrisons.
They were alive. My spirits soared, but crashed soon after as I realized how dangerous rescue would be. Blair and Charles had been duct taped back to back in separate chairs, as had Dmitri and Heather. The bedroom door was closed. I tapped lightly on the glass. Dmitri’s eyes grew large when he saw me. I quickly held my finger to my lips. He nodded that he understood. Blair looked at Dmitri, then at me. She shook her head, panic evident in her eyes and motioned toward the door. I pantomimed that I knew Dave was there. She closed her eyes and nodded.
I tried the window, but it wouldn’t budge. I checked nearby for something that I could use to pry it open, but realized Dave would hear me before I could get the Harrisons out.
I had to go inside.
Giving them the ‘ok’ sign to let them know I was coming back, I continued around the outside of the cabin. I found the rear door on the other side. Someone had propped the screen against the outside wall. The rusty doorknob hung at an odd angle.
It came off in my hand and the door swung open. I left the knob on the step and carefully pushed the door wider, stepping inside the dark hallway.
My heart pounding in my ears and alert to any sign of movement from the interior of the cabin, I moved quickly to the Harrison’s room. The sound of metal clanking against metal came from the direction of the kitchen.
The door to the bedroom opened easily and I slipped in, checking to see if it could be locked from the inside. It couldn’t. I took out my utility knife and immediately set to work cutting through the tape wrapped around Charles and Blair’s wrists. I worked methodically, moving to their ankles and then to Dmitri and Heather, until everyone was free. I walked to the door and listened before opening it and checking the hallway.
“He said he was going to blow the cabin. That we wouldn’t feel a thing.” Blair whispered, her dark eyes radiating anxiety.
That probably explained the clanking sound I heard. I pointed down the hall. “The back door is that way.” I glanced at their feet. “Take off your shoes. Go outside and get as far away as you can. I’ll be right behind you.”
The Harrisons filed out, shoes in hand, moving like ghosts out the back door. I made it about half way down the hallway when I heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Well, fuck me.”
I turned slowly. Dave stood in the hallway, cigarette burned to gravity defying ash in one hand, gun pointed at my skull in the other. His starched white button-down shirt was open
at his flaccid neck and stained with perspiration. His loosened power tie fell limply across his chest. Toupee askew, it resembled road kill. All in all, not a great look for Dave.
“What, you got nine lives, like a fucking cat?” Dave's face was so red it was purple. Maybe if we waited long enough he'd have a stroke. "You're supposed to be dead." He poked at the air with the gun and dropped the cigarette butt on the floor, crushing it with his wingtip.
"It was all going to be so simple." He glared at me, his expression heavy with contempt. "You'd be dead, they’d be dead and I'd go back home and everything would be fine. But nooooo." He shook his head. "You changed everything. Now I have to leave the bank I worked so fucking hard to build. God I need a cigarette." He patted his chest with his free hand. "Fuck. FUCK."
I seized the moment and hurled myself at him. Both of us slammed to the floor. Dave's gun went off, but I kept moving, adrenaline galloping through my veins. My hand closed around the barrel of the gun and I gave it a vicious twist. It came free in my hand. He grabbed for it, but I slid off him, sprang to my feet and took aim.
He’d been struggling to sit upright, but at the sight of me with the gun pointed at him, he stopped.
"Well, shit." His shoulders heaved in a rhythmic motion as he wheezed, trying to catch his breath.
My left arm felt numb and was hard to lift. I kept the gun trained at his head, alert to any sudden movement. Dave turned toward me. A percussive sound like chopper blades beat the air somewhere in the distance.
Beads of sweat ran down Dave’s pallid face. His eyes watered.
“A fucking bird.” He looked down and shook his head. He started to sigh, but stopped, mid-breath.
“What’s that smell?” I inhaled, trying to identify the odor. It had a hint of garlic and something else I couldn’t quite place. I searched his face. A grin split his face as he reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out his disposable lighter. He held it up, like he was at a concert.
Propane.
I launched myself backward into the bedroom, crossed the floor in two strides, covered my head with my arms and hurled myself through the window.
The roar of the explosion drowned out the sound of shattering glass.
***
The medic finished wrapping where the bullet had entered and exited the fleshy part of my upper arm. All the cuts I received from the glass were treated and bandaged. Cole waited until she packed up her case and had walked around to the front of the ambulance.
He tucked the blanket she'd given me around my shoulders and sat down next to me on the bumper.
I leaned my head against his chest.
“How did you find me?”
Cole squeezed my good arm. “The GPS in Dave’s phone. You left it on. One of the words I heard when you called was ‘kill’, and you were using someone else’s phone. I tracked you.”
“Thank God.”
“Yeah.”
I tilted my head so I could see Cole’s face. He stared into the woods, his expression unreadable.
“Looks like we need to let Roxanne’s boyfriend out of jail.”
“You found him? Where?”
“Once he realized the entire State of Arizona was looking for him, he turned himself in.”
“How’d he take the news about Roxanne?”
Cole shrugged. “Oh, you know. About as well as can be expected from a guy who was going to leave his relationship. He freaked out when I informed him he might be a suspect in her death.”
“Did you find Sterling?”
Cole paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words.
“Search and Rescue went in, but the structure was so unstable, they weren’t able to continue. They made it to the area where you dug out, so we know we got the right mine. But-"
“But what?” I didn’t like ‘buts’. I needed absolutes, especially when it came to Sterling.
“We searched everywhere. There were no vehicles within miles of that mine.”
I let the information sink in. Had Simon known Sterling’s plans?
“Do you think Simon drove us there and waited for Sterling to kill me?”
Cole watched me, his gaze never leaving my face. “Maybe, but there is another possibility we have to consider.”
At first I didn’t get what he meant. Then, the light went on. I sat up.
“You mean that he made it out.”
“Yes.”
I stood, suddenly cold and clutched the blanket closed.
No.
I started to pace.
A dense throb began at my temples and worked its way around to the back of my neck. Sterling might still be alive. The threat to my life that I’d thought was gone could still be in play. It was too late to use the propane explosion to fake my death. Durm was a small town. Folks were probably already talking about what part I played in recent events.
My chest contracted. I couldn’t breathe.
I’d have to leave.
Again.
Cole came over and took my hand, leading me back to the ambulance. Reluctantly, I followed. He reached out and swept a loose strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I fought the tears welling up in my eyes.
“I’ll protect you, Kate.”
The statement sounded so simple, I wanted to believe it could be true.
“You don’t know these people, Cole. It’s not just Sterling. Anaya won't let anything stand in his way. Especially when it comes to extracting vengeance. He once killed a man because he wore the wrong color shirt.”
“I realize that. The difference is now we have Sterling’s booking photos, known associates, family information. We also know he’s probably at large. I called the DEA and they put me in contact with an agent who’s familiar with both Salazar and Anaya. He also knew John Sterling. He’s very interested in any information we might have.”
“What’s his name?”
“Chance Goodeve.”
That’s a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. “I know him. He’s one of the agents that helped get me out of Mexico.”
“Your name came up in the conversation. He asked how you were doing. I told him what had been happening. He confirmed you testified against Sterling. He eventually told me about Salazar and Anaya.”
“He lost men in an attack on a safe house in Mexico. I was the target.” I closed my eyes. I could still see the flames.
Cole leaned in close. “The point is, people know what’s happening. People who want to see justice done.” He turned me to face him. “You have to let people help you, Kate. This isn’t something you should deal with on your own.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine.
He was right. It was a lonely damn existence running from place to place. Time to take a stand. There was one small problem.
“What happens if they kill you? Or Jason? Or some other innocent? I’m bad luck, Cole. People end up dead when I’m around.”
Cole pulled me to him and kissed me with that same tenderness he’d shown before. I kissed him back, believing for the moment that things would work out the way he said.
A girl can always hope.
THE END
About DV Berkom:
DV Berkom grew up in the Midwest region of the US, received her BA in Political Science from the University of Minnesota, and promptly moved to Mexico to live on a sailboat. Several years and at least a dozen moves later, she now lives outside of Seattle, Washington with her sweetheart Mark, an ex-chef-turned-contractor, and writes whenever she gets a chance.
Contact DV Berkom:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/dvberkom
Twitter: @dvberkom
Website: http://www.dvberkom.com
Amazon Author Page:
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Now available! The next book in the Kate Jones Thriller Series, Cruising for Death:
http://www.amazon.com/Cruising-Death-Jones-Thriller-ebook/dp/B007XN22P8
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