“Then by all means.” Without a thought to modesty, Maureen ripped off her blouse and pulled on one of the red workshirts lying on the floor.
Ben bundled together some of the other clothes and together they headed toward the front door. As they passed the kitchen, Ben stopped short. “Wait a minute.”
“What is it?”
“I see something we can use.” He walked to the sink and retrieved a jumbo box of dishwashing soap.
They ran outside and, all at once, the heat was so intense Ben thought he would pass out on the spot. The smoke was blinding and choking, and the intense heat was so oppressive, so enervating, Ben felt as if he could barely move.
You have no choice, he told himself. You have to keep trying. You have to keep trying.
They found Slade on the north side of the shack. “The hose was the wrong size, of course,” he explained. “So I’m using duct tape. And I found a spray gun and attached it to the end of the hose. That’ll give us some more pressure.”
“Very resourceful,” Ben said. He was glad to see the man’s brain was back in gear. He was probably the smartest of all of them.
Ben walked to the well, opened the cover, and poured in the entire contents of the box of soap.
“What’s the point of that?” Maureen asked.
“Soapy water,” Ben replied. “It’s a great fire quencher. It’s basically what professional firefighters use to put out fires. Since we don’t have any fire extinguishers on tap, this is the best we can hope for.” He distributed the extra cotton clothing to the others. “Now wrap this over every part of your body. Nothing should be exposed. Absolutely nothing.”
“But how will we see?” Maureen asked.
“We don’t have to see. We know where we’re going. Hurry!” The flames were still a dozen feet away, but the heat was so intense Ben felt as if he was already on fire. Once the clothes were wrapped around them, he gave Slade the signal. “Okay, let her rip.”
Slade lowered the pump handle and water began streaming out of the hose. After it ran for a few moments, they could see the consistency of the water changing. It was becoming cloudy, creamy—
Soapy water.
“It won’t last long,” Ben said. “We have to go now.” He took the hose from Slade and turned it on all three of them, drenching them from head to toe. “Now link arms.”
Slade did as he was instructed, but Maureen didn’t move. Her head was turned the other way, staring at the wall of flame.
“Maureen!” Ben shouted. “Take my hand!”
“I can’t,” she said. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Tears streamed out of her eyes. “Those flames—it’s—it’s too horrible. I can’t!”
“You can,” Ben said firmly. “And you will.”
She shook her head sadly. She seemed spent, emptied, as if she had nothing left to give. “You go on without me.”
“We’re all going together.” He grabbed her arm and jerked her forward. The three of them linked arms, as if they were playing some adult version of ring-around-the-rosy. Ben draped cotton shirts over their heads, took his bearings, then pulled a shirt down over his own face. He wetted them all down again, then turned the soapy water toward the flames.
“We’re going to have to run,” Ben said, “and run together. If we’re in that for more than a few seconds, nothing will save us.”
“I can’t do it,” Maureen sobbed, her voice buried beneath the damp cotton. “I can’t.”
“You can and you will,” Ben said, tugging them toward the perimeter of the flames. “Here we go.”
Chapter 71
BEN FIRED THE SOAPY water straight ahead of them and, with a sudden burst of speed, plunged into the flames. He forced the trio forward, racing at top speed, spraying everything that lay in his path.
Even though the flames were only a few feet thick, and they were only in the midst of the blaze for a heartbeat, it seemed like an eternity. The world went into slow motion, as suddenly Ben became aware of the all-consuming fire radiating all around him. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t even think about stopping because he knew if he did, it would be the end. They had to keep pressing through, not giving the fire a chance to catch. Even if Ben couldn’t see the flames, he could feel them, with every ounce of his being, on every inch of his skin. He was propelling himself forward on impulse power as one by one his bodily systems began to overheat.
The garden hose reached the end of its tether and jerked out of Ben’s hands. He didn’t stop—he couldn’t—but he felt the immediate impact. It was as if the oven had been turned on High and suddenly there were flames shooting up from beneath him, broiling him, burning him alive—
And then they were out. They had cleared the flames. They tumbled into a heap, collapsing onto the dirt, just outside the wall of fire.
Ben ripped the shirt off his head. Even though the heat was still intense, they were out of the fire. They had made it through. It had seemed impossible, but together, they had done it.
“My arm!” Slade shouted.
Ben whipped his head around. Slade was on fire. The shirt over his head had slipped, and the man’s sleeve had caught fire.
Ben jumped up and threw the shirt that had covered his own head around Slade’s arm. He wrapped it tightly around till the flames were snuffed.
“My God, that hurts!” Slade said. He was gritting his teeth, fighting back tears. “But we made it. By God, Kincaid—we made it!”
Ben crouched beside Maureen. Her eyes were closed and her face was bright red. “Are you—are you all right?” he asked.
Maureen didn’t answer, but she took Ben’s arm and pulled him close to her. Their lips met, and they fell into a deep and urgent kiss. It seemed to Ben as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this, waiting forever.
He rolled over on his back and lay for a moment, gasping for air. They should move away from the flames, away from the crippling heat, but that could surely wait at least another second or two. He didn’t realize until then how stressed, how dog-tired he was. Tired of thinking, tired of moving—tired of everything. All he wanted to do was rest. And wait.
Which is exactly what he did. Till he heard the familiar chopping sound of helicopter blades cutting through the superheated air outside. The wings of angels, Ben thought, as his smoke-baked eyelids closed. The wings of angels.
Five
What You See
Chapter 72
WHEN BEN FELT STRONG ENOUGH to walk, he hobbled down the infirmary corridor to the next room. He found Maureen lying on a bed in a hospital gown with an IV hooked up to her arm.
Ben entered the room. “How are you doing?”
Maureen saw him and beamed. “I’ve been better. But I’m alive.”
Ben returned her smile. He was glad to see her so recovered. By the time the helicopters had landed, she was in such bad shape that he’d had to carry her on board while one of the deputies helped Slade, who had totally broken down. He was like a baby, babbling and crying. Maureen had kept her wits about her to the end, thank God, but she was gasping as if each breath was her last. She was asthmatic to begin with; protracted smoke inhalation could easily have killed her.
“How do you feel?” Ben asked.
“Well, my skin is pretty crispy, and my lungs feel like I’ve been swimming in dirt. But under the circumstances, I can’t complain.” She reached out for Ben’s hand. “You look cute.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. You should go outside more often. You look good with a little red in your face. Well, in this case, a lot of red in your face.”
“Oh yeah?” Ben hadn’t even thought to look in the mirror.
“Oh yeah. Your nose is bright red, like Rudolph. And Sasquatch, of course.” She squeezed Ben’s hand all the tighter. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Thank you. If you hadn’t known how to work the radio, we’d still be up there.”
“Nonsense. If you hadn’t kept your wits about you and made us think clearly, we’d ha
ve all died.” She looked down for a moment. “Ben … I need to tell you something. I … have someone. Back home. In North Dakota.”
Ben didn’t say anything.
“More than just a someone, actually. We’re married.”
Ben nodded.
“You knew?”
“No. But I suspected there was … something.”
“We haven’t lived together for years. We were having some trouble, but … I don’t know. After something like this happens to you, you get new priorities. Just a little while ago, I called him. I know this sounds ridiculous, but—I think we’re going to give it another chance.” She looked up at Ben, her eyes wide. “I’m—sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad for you.”
“I feel awful. You’re not at all what I thought you were going to be, back—”
“When we first met?”
“Or even before.” The smile faded from her face. “I have a confession to make. It’s—horrible. I just hope you won’t hate me.” She swallowed. “God, I can’t even make myself say it.”
“Then let me say it for you. You set me up. Manipulated me so I’d take Zak’s case.”
Maureen looked stunned. “Ben!”
“Zak found out I was in town, read it in the paper or something. He knew I was a sucker for lost causes, but might not want to get involved with eco-terrorists. So you set up a little charade. When you found out I was in jail, you staged that stupid protest, knowing Sheriff Allen would let you spend the night behind bars. That gave you a chance to talk to me. You laid it on thick while we were locked up together, playing on my conscience. And then, to top it off, you hired some guys to stage that attack just after we were released, figuring I would fly to your rescue. Which I did. And that after we had fought side by side against a common enemy, we would bond and I would agree to take Zak’s case. Which I did. I suspect you even played up to me a bit, acting like you liked me. Personally, that is. Just to keep me interested.”
Maureen stared at him with amazement. “How did you find out?”
“My investigator, Loving, talked to Kelly, your former Green Rage colleague. She spilled the beans.”
Maureen frowned. “Kelly resigned over it. She said we were being morally indefensible. I guess she was right.” She glanced down at the floor. “You must hate me.”
“Not in the least. You were fighting for a friend’s life. I might quarrel with the way you did it, but … I can’t argue with your goal.”
“You’re very generous.” She gazed up at him. “You had it all right except on one point. I was playing up to you, but I didn’t have to pretend.” She pulled his arm, forcing him to bend closer. When he was near enough, she kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good human being, Ben.”
He smiled back at her. “Well, I try.”
Chapter 73
WHEN BEN RETURNED TO his office, he found Christina and Sheriff Allen standing close together, talking. He cleared his throat, then stepped into the office. “Any word yet?”
Christina shook her head. “Jury’s still out.”
“Blast.”
“I thought you’d be pleased,” Allen said. “Frankly, I didn’t think it would take them half this long. Sounds like you must’ve given someone something to think about.”
“Maybe,” Ben answered. “Or maybe they’ve already voted to convict and are just debating whether to give Zak the death penalty. I know they’re supposed to come out as soon as they reach a verdict, but juries are unpredictable. Sometimes they like to get it all over with at once.”
“You gave it everything you possibly could,” Christina said. “You have nothing to feel bad about. And speaking of feelings, how are you?”
Ben shrugged. “I’m fine. Throat’s a little raspy and my face is tender. But nothing to complain about.”
“That’s good. When I heard what happened, I was—”
She was interrupted by a knock on the door. A moment later, a close-cropped, official-looking head poked through the door. “My name is Carlton Hodges. I’m looking for Christina McCall.”
Christina stepped forward. “What’s up?”
Hodges stepped into the office, followed by two other men, both of them dressed in near identical dark suits and white shirts. “You’re under arrest.”
Christina’s eyes opened wide. “What?”
“I’m a federal agent, ma’am. DEA, working in association with the FBI.” He grabbed Christina’s wrists and snapped a pair of cuffs over them. “And you’re under arrest.”
Sheriff Allen pushed in between them. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Sir, please step aside. This doesn’t involve you.”
“I’m the sheriff in this county,” Allen said, not backing down an inch. “And no one’s going to make an arrest here unless I understand what’s happening.”
“It’s a federal matter, sir.”
“I don’t care if it’s a galactic matter. You’re not taking her without my say-so.”
Hodges glanced back at his two associates. Ben could imagine what might be going through their minds. They could do this by force. They had the authority. But it might be simpler if they got the sheriff’s cooperation. “The DEA has been working on this for some time, Sheriff.”
“Yeah. So?”
“We’ve been looking for the person or persons responsible for the distribution of the designer drug known as Venom.” He glanced at Christina. “We believe we’ve found her.”
“Christina? You must be joking.”
“I assure you, sir, we’re dead serious. We’ve been watching her for some time.”
“You can’t have any evidence.”
“But we do.” He turned toward Christina. “We found traces of methamphetamine on a table at Mabel’s Diner last night—the table where numerous witnesses saw Ms. McCall have dinner.”
Ben cut in. “Is that true, Christina?”
Christina seemed confused, unsure. “It’s true that I ate there, but—”
“It was only trace residue—probably got some on her fingers and brushed it on the table. Still, no one would have it on their fingers unless they’d been in contact with the drug.”
“But I wasn’t,” Christina said. Her eyes were wide and frightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hodges was unimpressed. “You’ll have plenty of time to tell your story to your lawyer. Come along, ma’am.”
Sheriff Allen grabbed the man by the arm, stopping him. “Where are you taking her?”
“To a holding cell at the county deportation center, first. Then off to Collingsgate.”
“Collingsgate!” Ben said. “I’ve heard that’s the worst hellhole in the whole prison system.”
“These are very serious charges,” Hodges answered, “and her chances of getting bail are virtually nonexistent.”
“Collingsgate!” Allen barked. “That’s a festering pit of violence and rape. Even murder.”
Hodges sighed. “We’ve been trying to get additional funds for our penitentiary system for years, sir. But somehow, making life better for prisoners never seems to rank very high on the taxpayers’ priority list.” He tugged more forcefully on Christina’s arm. “Come along, ma’am.”
“Ben! Do something!” Her eyes were wide and pleading. “Don’t let them take me away like this!”
Ben hesitated. “There must be some mistake—”
“There’s no mistake. Please, let us do our job.”
“Ben!” Tears were welling up in Christina’s eyes, and Ben knew why. Her pathological fear of imprisonment, the remnant of her previous nightmarish stay in jail. The prospect of a revisit was horrifying to her. “Please help me!”
“How long do you think she’ll be in Collingsgate?” Ben asked.
“Hard to say exactly,” Hodges answered. “But the federal courts are pretty backed up right now, as you probably know. It’ll be at least six months before her case comes to trial. Probably more like a year. Maybe two.”
/>
“Two! Two years!” Christina’s voice became shrill and desperate. “Don’t let them take me! Please! Don’t let them!”
Ben held out his hands. “I—don’t know what I can do.”
“Ben, please! Please!” Tears streamed from her eyes. She was pleading, begging. “Don’t let them take me away. I can’t stand it, Ben. I know I can’t. I’ll die.”
“You’ll die?” Sheriff Allen said. “But, honey—”
“She means it,” Ben said. “She was imprisoned once before and it almost killed her. If they lock her up again—” He shook his head ruefully.
“Ben, please help me!”
“I’m sorry, Christina—”
“I mean it, Ben. I’ll die!” Her face was red and blotchy; her nose was running and she didn’t even notice. Her own private demon, her darkest fear, was becoming a horrific reality.
Ben held out his hands helplessly. “I’m sorry, Christina. I don’t know what I can do.”
“Well, I do.” Sheriff Allen stepped forward, his jaw firm and set. “Hodges, you can’t take this little lady away.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Hodges shot back. His two associates moved perceptibly closer, ready to go into action if necessary. “We’ve got her dead to rights.”
“No, I don’t think you understand,” Allen shot back. “Your drug dealer isn’t her. It’s me.”
For a protracted moment, no one spoke.
“What?” Hodges said at last.
“You heard me. I’m your man. I don’t know how the stuff got on her dinner table. I was there—maybe I brushed the tablecloth. Maybe it rubbed off when we held hands. But I’m your man.”
Hodges did not release Christina. “Sheriff, if this is your idea of being noble—”
“I’m not trying to be noble. I’m just stating the facts. You don’t believe me, go search the shed behind my house. You’ll find tons of the stuff. I can tell you who’s supplying me with the dope. I’ll tell you anything you want.” He gazed over at Christina. “Just let the lady go.”
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