Anacacho, An Allie Armington Mystery

by Louise Gaylord

  “How is she?”

  Jed shakes his head and waves me away, but I press forward, throat jammed with unborn sobs.

  Del catches me before I get to the plane and pulls me into his comfort as my sobs break through. “She was my friend. I should have done more to protect her.”

  Del walks me away from the disaster toward his truck. “I’m sure you did everything you could. Now, you gotta be strong, Allie. Hear? I got to go help this guy. What’s his name?”

  I manage to get out, “Jed. I don’t know if he told me his last name. Could be Hansen. He said he was Luke’s cousin.”

  “Hansen? This guy’s related to that bastard? How do we know we can trust him?”

  “He’s DEA. He helped me escape.”

  “That’s good enough for me. Take my keys and get in the driver’s seat.” Del slams the door and hurries to Jed’s side. When Del returns to the truck and opens the door, he shakes his head, then leans behind me to pull out a blanket. “Looks like a major artery in her leg was severed and she bled to death. Jed’s pretty sure Miguel is just bunged up, but mentally freaked out. He won’t let her out of his arms.”

  “Poor man. Maybe I could help with that.”

  “Maybe you can.” Del offers me his hand and I step out of his truck.

  We take only a few steps when the shot rings out, ripping through the silent night like a cannon blast.

  Jed jerks back, then staggers away.

  Del and I lunge forward as I shout, “Jed? Are you all right?” Jed turns to reveal a face crammed with agony. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, it never occurred to me—I mean I never thought he would—ohmygod. I should have taken the gun.”

  Chapter 36

  THE THREE OF US STAND STARING at one another in frozen horror, but my agony compounds. I insisted that Miguel and Adelena come with us.

  “It’s all my fault,” someone wails. That can’t be my voice, but my hands pressed to my chest and the tears sliding down my cheeks give clear evidence.

  Jed gives me the perspective I need. “You had good intentions. If we’d left them there, Lord knows what might have happened. They’re back home. At least their families will have some sort of closure.”

  Del gropes his belt. “Damn, I left my cell phone at the house. You wait here, I’ll notify the sheriff.”

  I recover enough from my grief to jump on that. “No.”

  “What do you mean ‘no’?” Del points toward the dreadful scene. “We can’t leave these people out here to rot.”

  “But we can’t call anybody. Not yet, anyway. Ray Gibbs thinks Jed and I are dead and if he finds out we’re alive, we won’t be for long.”

  Jed jerks to life. “Gibbs? What in hell does Ray Gibbs have to do with this?”

  “It was his Suburban. He was the one who rammed the plane.”

  Disbelief fills Jed’s face. “No way. Gibbs is clean. I’d bet my life on it.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. Right, Del?”

  “Hell, how would I know? I never saw the man before tonight.”

  “You saw Gibbs tonight?”

  Del nods. “Dropped by. Said he saw our lights from the road. There’s no way—from the road. He must’ve been bottom fishing—checking to see if we heard the plane. I gave him a beer. He warned me away from the strip. Then he left.”

  “He must have gotten your name from the sheriff ’s office,” I say. “And if that’s so, then the druggies probably have an informer planted.”

  Del either doesn’t hear me or is lost in his own thoughts. “I could show up at the sheriff ’s office tomorrow morning, take Bill for coffee. I do that every so often. I don’t think that would arouse suspicion.” His voice trails to silence as entreaty fills his face. “That’s about all I feel comfortable doing. Wish I could help more, but my family...”

  “Of course. You must put Susie and the children first. But can you get us to a safe place before daylight? We need a place to hole up until you can get to the sheriff.”

  “No problem. Paul’s hideaway. You two stay in the barn until I come get you. There’s a couple of spare horses you can use.”

  The truck’s front seat easily contains the three of us and the trip to the barn is a speedy one. Del pulls into the barn opening and turns off the motor.

  “We’ll need weapons,” Jed says. “No problem.”

  Del opens his door and motions for me to do the same. “Sorry about the accommodations.”

  After Jed hits the ground, Del hands me a horse blanket and points me toward a long, leather seat salvaged from a vintage pick-up. “Jed’ll have to make do with the hay. Don’t get too comfortable. I’ll be back.”

  When the truck motor fades, Jed gives me a silent salute, throws himself on the hay, and in minutes begins to snore.

  Del’s grip on my shoulder is insistent. “Come on, Allie, you gotta wake up. There’s not much time. I gotta get you up that trail before sunrise.”

  I groan and sit as he shoves a Styrofoam cup of smoking coffee into my hand. “Drink this. I brought toast. It’s probably cold by now, but it should hold you for a spell.”

  By the time I demolish the toast and drain the coffee, Del has saddled up two horses, refilled the canteens and put them and several sandwiches in my right saddlebag.

  Jed, already on his horse, slides a rifle into its sheath, then drops several boxes of ammo into the side pouch.

  Del helps me mount, checks the cinch and stirrups, then says, “Rifle or automatic?”

  Before I can answer, Jed says, “We’ll need everything you can give us.”

  Del nods, hands me a .32 and sheaths a second rifle next to my right leg. “Neither is loaded, but once I contact Cotton...” The look on his face says the rest.

  With that, he heads down the row of stalls into the darkness, then reappears leading his palomino. “Pay close attention to the way we go. You’ll be on your own after this trip. I won’t be coming back.”

  There’s barely enough light to make out landmarks, but I see we’re following the back road that leads to Anacacho. The dip into the swale comes sooner than I remember, but it’s been a year since I took this route in my frantic search for Paul.

  Thinking of Paul brings the past week to mind. Has it only been seven days since I was kidnapped by that horrible Luke Hansen? The endless hours spent in Mexico are over at last, but at what price? Tears start as I remember there will be no future for Miguel and Adelena, innocent victims of Paul’s demented and grandiose plans for a life south of the Rio Grande.

  And what of Jed and me? Safe for the moment, but for how long? Ray Gibbs somehow knew we would land at the Anacacho strip. Knew the exact hour. He came to kill us. When he finds out he failed, he’ll be back.

  Del reins in his horse and turns to face us. “Okay, guys, this is as far as I go. I’ll telephone the sheriff the minute I get home. There’ll be grub and water waiting for you at the barn this evening, but don’t come down ’til dusk. Too easy to spot a horse and rider on the side of the mountain.”

  He turns his horse, then stops beside me. “I hate to leave you, but Jed seems like a good sort. You’ll be safe with him. I’ll get help to you as soon as I can.”

  I nod and grasp his hand. “We’ll be all right. I know the way from here.”

  I join Jed, who urges his horse to the right, then hesitates and turns. “We take the trail to the right. Right?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “No. We’re going left.”

  “You’re kidding.” He leans forward to inspect. “No way a horse can get through there.”

  “From here it looks much narrower than it really is. That’s why this place is safe. Follow me.” I pass him and head left toward the cut in the sandstone, then up the tight trail that hugs the side of the mountain.

  We have traveled a quarter of a mile and are at about five hundred feet when the sun breaks the horizon flooding the vista in a golden glow. First the tower of the abandoned ranch house, then the pumping oil wells that now belong to the
Dardens, and finally, in the distance, the hangar and airstrip come into view.

  The horses are breathing hard by the time we reach the trail’s end and halt before the lean-to. To my dismay, Paul’s prized hide-away has suffered badly from a year’s neglect. The once-inviting pile of pillows—gone. The mattress, ravaged by varmints, unfit for sleeping. And the protective canvas side-drops hang pitifully at half-mast, flapping aimlessly in the early-morning freshet.

  Jed slides off his saddle. “Is this it? I thought there was a cabin.”

  “This is all there is. Hopefully, we won’t be here for very long.”

  “If Del sticks to his schedule, we should see some action at the hangar by midmorning. But I wouldn’t count on getting back to civilization until Cotton has Gibbs in custody and that may take a few days.”

  “Thanks for the good news.” I dismount and point in the direction of the mesquite copse. “The horses need water. The trough is this way.”

  Tending to the horses takes some time, since Jed and I can’t agree. I say they should be allowed to roam. He wants to tether them to the hitching rail by the trough in case we have to make a run for it.

  On close inspection, we discover the hideaway is strategically perched on a small, steep-sided butte with no other way down except the one narrow trail near the lean-to.

  After we release the horses, we hoist the saddles over the hitching rail and start back for the lean-to, Jed in the lead. “We can relax for a while. The area looks pretty secure to me.”

  “It is—more or less.”

  He whirls to face me. “What do you mean by that?” “Helicopters. That’s how Paul got the material up here to build the lean-to. That’s how Bill rescued me from the druggies. The sound of the rotors will give us ample warning to arm ourselves, but there isn’t any place to hide.”

  “Damn. You’re dead right. Why didn’t I see it before now? This place is nothing but an over-sized landing pad.”

  He turns and breaks into a lope toward the lean-to.

  By the time I find him, Jed is on his knees pawing through the ammo boxes.

  “What on earth are you doing?”

  “We need to spread this stuff around. Find places where we can stash it—and ourselves—in case.”

  I kneel beside him. “Didn’t you hear me? There isn’t anyplace to hide, except this lean-to, and it’s open on three sides.”

  “There’s got to be someplace else. Maybe under the mesquite?”

  “Trees have branches, leaves, and lots of air spaces. Not much protection from a bullet.”

  Jed says, “You’re right. We’re sitting ducks.”

  I start to offer some consolation, but there is none. If trouble comes from the air, we don’t stand a chance.

  “Your friend Del must’ve done his job,” Jed shouts from his lookout at the head of the trail.

  Sleep-sluggish from my boredom-imposed siesta, I prop one elbow on the reclaimed mattress to see him motioning for me to join him.

  The hangar is surrounded by several dome-tops and an emergency vehicle with lights still flashing.

  Jed gives me a wide grin. “I saw the dust first. Guess they didn’t feel the need to use sirens. Del must’ve told Cotton they were dead.”

  Miguel and Adelena, how sad their families will be in a few short hours.

  I settle beside him on the low boulder. “What now?” “I guess we wait until dark.”

  I do a swift check of my dusty and pungent outfit. “I sure could use a bath and a real bed.”

  He nods. “I could use a visit to my family.”

  “Hopefully, this will end quickly and we both can get on with our lives.”

  We watch the ambulance pull slowly away, followed by a couple of police cars, while the remaining men string yellow crime scene tape from the hangar to and around the tiny airplane.

  An hour later only one car remains with only one man, who walks the area before stopping beside the driver-side door.

  Jed turns to me. “Guess you know who that is.”

  Chapter 37

  IT’S BEEN PITCH BLACK for the last forty minutes and an hour since Jed mounted his horse and disappeared in the dying dusk. The moon won’t rise until almost midnight, so, with the two loaded weapons, extra ammo and what’s left of the food and water, I’m stationed in the middle of what remains of the mattress.

  Despite the warm evening, I fight chattering teeth. I hate that it’s dark because the usual insect and animal sounds have magnified. Worse still, I have lots of time to think, remember, and agonize over Paul, Miguel, and most especially Adelena, who became my friend and ally. We were the only women stuck in that bizarre ersatz world, each of us longing to escape, each offering the other comfort and hope.

  I jerk to at the sound of a distant snort and stifle my first impulse to call out a greeting. What if Jed were caught? What if?

  I grope for the rifle and automatic, then slide carefully off the far side of the bed, placing the rifle on the mattress in front of me. I chamber a round in the automatic and jump at the loud metallic click. At least I will have some cover and a fair chance of getting off a few shots if there’s only one of them.

  The horse snorts again and gives a groan as it struggles up the last sharp incline. After a few more snorts, in between heavy heaving, feet hit the ground and I hear the sound of a shotgun being breeched, then clacked shut.

  Not a sound now. No steps. Nothing. “Allie?”

  It’s not Jed. “Allie?”

  It’s Bill. I start to answer, then hesitate, positive my hearing has been distorted by my surging heartbeats. Now unsure, I remain frozen in place, my weapon pointed at the sound of his voice.

  Steps come toward me, then, “Do you have a flashlight on you?”

  I take a deep breath, lower my weapon, and smile. It’s Kryptonite. “Bill?”

  “Thank God. I was beginning to think...”

  He stumbles onto the platform then bumps into the bed with a couple of expletives.

  The mattress jars as his body hits. “Jeez. Don’t you have any light? I’m blind as a stump.”

  Still on guard, I slide the rifle to the floor, place the revolver next to it, and after a brief search, find his hand.

  To touch him after all this time sends a wave of warmth through my body as unexpected tears come.

  He pulls me toward him, moaning as we meet, then his arms surround me as his lips command mine.

  Our hunger is mutual and urgent. When we break for air, we almost say in unison, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

  Then we laugh. Mine is filled with relief, joy, and a million other emotions that insist on crowding along.

  “Is Jed okay?”

  “Should be surrounded by his family right about now.”

  “He was great. Even managed to keep Luke from killing me.”

  “I heard.”

  I’m comfortably buried in Bill’s chest and feel safe for the first time in what seems like months. Yet the attorney in me wins over the woman in love. “Luke killed Reena. A specimen of his DNA should nail him.”

  “We’ll get him. We’ll get them all.”

  “Jed was a real hero. Flying us out of there was...” A lump closes my throat and I have to swallow a few times before I manage, “I’ll never be able to thank him enough.”

  “Too bad about the other couple. Jed was pretty broken up about that.”

  “Did he tell you about the plant in your office?”

  “I was pretty sure who it was, but I’m grateful for the confirmation. We’ll keep him under tight wraps until all our ducks are lined up. Don’t worry, he’ll be spoon-fed all info.”

  “Then, it’s over?”

  Bill softly kisses my eyes. “Not quite.”

  I shove away the grim picture of the ravaged plane and Adelena to greedily claim his lips for a second time.

  He ends it with a gentle, “I’d be more than happy to spend the rest of the night this way, but we don’t have much time.
”

  I pull away at the serious tone to his words. “What’s wrong?” “We have to get out of here.”

  “Gibbs?”

  “Or his men. I’m sure the news of your survival has been leaked by now. I’m positive they’ll make a pass tonight. Can’t afford not to. Thankfully, I beat them.”

  I grab the rifle and automatic. “It’s going to be hard to round up my horse. He’s running free.”

  “No time. We’ll walk down and lead mine. In case they catch us on the trail, we can use him for cover.” He stands and pulls me along with him. “Hurry.”

  Rifle breached and firearm on safety, I stumble behind him until he finds his horse.

  He takes the rifle and snaps it shut. “Now your revolver.”

  After I hand it to him, he gives me a gentle shove. “Sorry, but you’ll have to lead. Stay close to the cliff, if you can use your free hand to judge the distance that would help, but whatever you do, take your time.”

  The dirt seems chilly beneath my sweaty hand but offers comforting support as I timidly begin my descent. Thankfully, the path has worn smooth with time and gravity helps me downward.

  For the next half-hour we work our way toward the bottom of the butte and have just made the two large boulders marking the trail when the familiar kak-kak-kak of a helicopter motor sounds in the distance.

  Chapter 38

  I FREEZE. “What now?”

  “Keep on going. Stay close to the cliff. There’s a small thicket of live oaks across from the opening to a cave. We’ll take cover there. It’s unlikely they’ll check this side of the butte first. They’ll be concentrating on the lean-to.”

  He sounds confident even though the helicopter is fast approaching, so I keep floundering ahead until the sandstone seems to drop away. A rush of cold air flies past me with a low “whoosh.”

  “Hold it. I think I’ve found the cave.”

  Bill moves to my side. “Don’t move. You take the reins. I’ll lead. There could be a drop-off. No use killing ourselves after all this. Damn. I wish we had a flashlight.”