Deadfall

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Yep. It should take us right to the front door.” Kevin released a heavy sigh. Both men slipped out of their seat belts. Mac took the road at a slower pace.

  “There it is.” Mac recognized the mossy roof of the cabin as it came into view. Not wanting to alert anyone if they were inside the cabin, Mac pulled up a little farther and off the road, parking just short of the main driveway. The bevy of cars efficiently blocked the driveway.

  They gathered behind the vehicles and out of sight. “Kevin and I will take the front,” Mac said. “We’ve got the heavy vests.” The vest worn under the uniform on patrol was lighter and more pliable, thus not as effective. His and Kevin’s were heavy raid vests, similar to the military model soldiers wore. “I need one uniform to go with us and the other to hit the back. Is that okay, Sarge?” Mac sensed he was stealing the sergeant’s thunder.

  “We could use some more troops,” Frank grumbled, “but we’ll make do. A forced assault is authorized only on my say-so. I’ve got SWAT on standby if this turns into a standoff. Let’s see if anyone is home right now.” Sergeant Evans pulled his shotgun from his car and racked a round.

  “I’ll go to the front with you and Kevin,” Dana volunteered, pulling her Glock . 40 from her duty belt.

  Mac wanted to object—to tell her to stay back—but he couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to her. She was a trained trooper and better than most. Mac trusted her. “Okay.” Their gazes connected for a moment. Had she read his reluctance? He quickly refocused. “Chris, you take the back with the sergeant. Everybody ready?”

  They all nodded, and the five officers started toward the tiny cabin. At first, it looked like no one was there.

  “I’ve got a vehicle in back,” Chris said over the radio.

  “What kind of . . .” Mac stopped midsentence when the front door flew open. Troy Wilson staggered out, holding his hands over his ears. Blood covered his head.

  Terror ripped through Mac as time stopped.

  A shot exploded from inside the cabin. The bullet hit Troy square in the back, stopping him in his tracks.

  Mac ran forward and caught Troy as he fell face-forward. Dana and Kevin fired through the open doorway. The shooter fired again, hitting Dana in the chest. She staggered and landed on her back, her head hitting the gravel.

  Kevin emptied his magazine into the front of the cabin. Mac instinctively crouched down to lessen his exposure, while still cradling Troy with his left arm. He tried to level his handgun sights on the shooter and managed to get off several rounds.

  Tunnel vision had set in and he felt as though someone had flipped a switch, transporting them into a surreal, slow-motion world. He needed to get to Dana. He gently lowered Troy’s lifeless body to the ground.

  Kevin dumped his empty mag and ran to Dana, dropping down next to her.

  More shots erupted from the back of the building.

  “Twelve-ninety-nine, twelve-ninety-nine, officer down,”

  Kevin yelled into Dana’s spike mic.

  Mac ducked as a big Dodge truck careened around the corner with Jack Clovis behind the wheel, firing from his window. A round hit the ground less than a foot from Dana’s boots. Sergeant Evans and Chris sprinted around the corner.

  “Is she bad off?” Frank yelled.

  “Don’t know. You guys okay?” Kevin yelled back.

  “We aren’t hit; the guy came out too fast. We got off a few rounds into the truck, but I don’t think we hit him.”

  Oh God, make her be all right. Please. Mac raced to Dana’s side.

  “Talk to me, Dana.” He dropped down next to Frank.

  Dana opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Tears filled her eyes. “Hurts.”

  Kevin ripped her uniform shirt and vest off.

  “There’s no blood.”

  “I think the vest stopped the round.” Kevin said. “She may have some broken ribs, though. Probably had the wind knocked out of her.”

  “I’m okay,” Dana whispered. “Where is he?”

  Mac looked at Kevin and got to his feet. “He won’t get far.” He motioned to Chris and Frank. “You guys stay with her.”

  “You ready, Mac?” Kevin scrambled to his feet, and the detectives reached their car in record time.

  “Let’s go.” Mac crushed the gas pedal as he tore after Clovis, who left a handy trail in the wet dirt to indicate his direction. Their cars hadn’t been a deterrent to the all-terrain vehicle Clovis drove.

  Kevin prayed out loud as Mac pushed the Crown Vic for all it was worth. “Lord, give us the strength to finish this task and the courage. Please be at our sides, guide our actions, and help us do the right thing.”

  Mac’s chin was set, and his hands were tight on the wheel. He didn’t just want Clovis arrested; he wanted to kill him.

  Mac came around a corner, nearly crashing into the back of the suspect’s truck. Clovis had apparently gone out of control on the curve and hit a tree. The open door indicated their suspect had fled the scene.

  “There he is!” Kevin caught a glimpse of Clovis running north.

  “He’s heading toward the cliffs.” Mac pulled his shotgun from the roof-mounted rack of the car and ran after Clovis, yelling for him to give up. Kevin, gun at the ready, ran with him.

  “How do you know there are cliffs?”

  “Troy told me.”

  “That could be good or bad. Clovis knows the terrain better than we do. He probably knows a way out.”

  “We’ll have to outrun him.”

  Or I will, Mac thought. Kevin was already breathing heavily.

  “Or at least keep him in sight.” Kevin closed in on Mac, pacing him step for step.

  “His revolver has a scope, and he knows how to use it, so be careful.” Mac sprinted ahead, pausing just fifty yards from their suspect. Clovis was trying to negotiate his way over the deadfalls along the cliffside. Mac hit the dirt, putting Clovis in his sights. He was legally justified in shooting the fleeing murderer. But Mac didn’t feel the moral justification. “Jack Clovis,” he yelled again.

  “State police; stop where you are! Don’t make me shoot you!”

  Kevin caught up to Mac again, diving to his side and leveling his Glock on Clovis.

  Clovis got off another shot.

  Kevin looked at his Glock. “This thing is just about worthless at this distance, Mac. You have a good sight picture?”

  “I’ve got him.” Mac leveled the post on the ghost-ring sight on the middle of Clovis’s back. “Stop, or I’ll shoot you where you stand!” Mac yelled again. Clovis stepped awkwardly over a large deadfall. They were at the edge of a cliff. Beyond Clovis, there was nothing but air. A strong east wind howled through the trees. The bear of a man stepped up on a log, his back to them. He held his revolver out to one side as if he were going to give up.

  “Drop the gun!” Mac yelled. “Don’t make me shoot you!”

  In a fluid motion, Clovis spun around and aimed the barrel dead on them.

  Mac fired in a heartbeat. Time once again stood still. Mac swore he could see the slug leave his shotgun muzzle, penetrating the smoke cloud on its way into Clovis’s left shoulder. The massive shotgun slug tore into the soft target and spun Clovis around. The gun fell. To Mac’s surprise, Clovis then picked up the gun and dropped out of sight.

  33

  HE’S GONE OVER THE CLIFF!” Mac tore out after him, not knowing if the man had fallen or had taken a trail down the treacherous slope.

  “Don’t hesitate to put another round into him.” Kevin followed at a distance.

  Mac reached the cliffside. No way could Clovis have walked down. Holding onto a tree limb, Mac leaned forward, expecting to see Clovis at the bottom. Instead he lay on a rocky ledge a few feet down, panting like a wounded animal. His jacket sleeve and shoulder were saturated with blood. The gun lay several feet away, but Clovis made no move to recover it.

  Mac removed the sling from the shotgun and dropped to his stomach. “Clovis, grab the sling. I’ll pull you up.”


  Kevin came up behind him. “Careful, Mac. Does he still have his gun?”

  “It’s on the ledge, but he’s not going for it. Grab the sling, Clovis. Come on!” Mac yelled again.

  Clovis spit a mouthful of blood on the rock next to his battered face. The wound from the slug was bad. Mac wondered if his bullet had shattered the bone. “No thanks. I’ll take my chances here. Besides, isn’t this where you ask me why I did it?” Clovis winced in pain.

  “Just grab the strap,” Kevin urged. “We’ll talk when you’re safe.”

  “You ever try to make a living as a logger in this country? Hard work. Hard work,” Clovis gasped. “How’s a man supposed to make a living with all these tree-hugging wackos crying over their spotted owls? You can’t. I couldn’t. I had to find some way—that’s why I turned to the bear galls and hunts. It was the only way I could keep my place.”

  “I understand, Jack,” Mac hollered into the howling wind. “Just grab the strap, and we’ll work this out.”

  “No.” He groaned. “I need to tell you this now. I didn’t mean to kill the boy. He walked in on me and Troy on a bear kill. I was gonna try to bribe him—just talk to him—when he ran. I panicked and shot him. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t have him telling anyone. I’m a respected man in the community. I have ties, even to the cops. Just ask Sam. I shot the kid on impulse.”

  “How’d Brad end up in the river?” Mac asked.

  “I went back to pick him up later that night. Dumped his body in the Columbia below the dam. I burnt his clothes. I knew I was done for when I heard Sam Wyatt was at my place looking for me with a half-dozen other deputies. I figured right that Troy had talked. I picked him up and took him out to the cabin—told him I needed him for another hunt. I was crazy mad by then. Sorry about shooting at you guys; I was hoping you’d kill me first. Lost my nerve, I guess.” Clovis wiped at the blood streaming from his nose.

  “Troy said you threatened to kill him and feed him to your dogs if he talked,” Mac said. “If you’re such a nice guy, why would he say something like that?”

  “Probably because of what I did to that ex-con. Norton threatened to turn me in if I didn’t cut him a bigger share.”

  “Ex-con.” Mac glanced over at Kevin. “The guy at the sawmill?”

  “Unbelievable.” Kevin shook his head. Not so unbelievable, Mac thought. He wouldn’t tell Kevin he’d considered the possibility— at least not yet. Right now they had more important matters to attend to.

  Mac had wanted to kill Clovis for shooting Dana and Troy. He’d even aimed for his chest when they’d exchanged fire. Now he wanted the guy alive—wanted him to pay for the lives he’d taken.

  “Okay.” Mac leaned forward, dropping the sling lower. “You got that off your chest; now let’s get you off this cliff. You need a doctor.”

  Clovis stood up, weaving like a wounded bear. With what must have been his last bit of strength, he launched himself off the cliff.

  “No!” Mac wasn’t certain which of them yelled. Maybe they both did. They watched Jack Clovis tumble into the deep ravine. Then silence. There were no screams, no groans—nothing but the wind rustling through the trees.

  Mac couldn’t move. He was still hunkered down on one knee, holding the rifle sling over the cliff ’s edge. Kevin stood behind him. The wind tore through their hair and their clothes. Several long minutes later, Kevin grabbed Mac’s hand, pulling him to his feet.

  The landscape blurred. Mac couldn’t have said why he felt the way he did—as though he’d lost a friend. Jack Clovis was a murderer. The man didn’t deserve a second thought. He finally placed the blame on the aftereffects of nearly losing Dana and of losing his informant.

  Kevin settled an arm around Mac’s shoulders and hugged him. Mac felt a little better seeing that his partner had been moved to tears as well.

  Without a word, they headed back to the car. They still had work to do.

  Mac and Kevin were more than happy to hand the crime scene over to a detective unit from the Oregon State Police office from The Dalles. They were witnesses in this one, all of them active shooters in the attempt to take Clovis into custody. Mac learned the only good part about being involved in an officer-involved shooting was he didn’t have to type a report; that was left to the other investigators. All Mac had to do was come to grips with his actions and make sure Dana was all right.

  34

  SEVERAL DAYS LATER, Mac met Dana at their usual coffee shop. They were both off work for a while—Dana with broken ribs and a scheduled psych evaluation after having been shot, and Mac on administrative leave. Though Mac had accompanied Dana to the hospital right after the shooting, they hadn’t gotten together for social time, or what Dana preferred to call mentoring sessions, until now.

  “Hey, Mac.” Dana settled into the chair next to Mac and closest to the big fireplace. “How’s it going?” She was wearing a soft pink sweater that matched the flush in her cheeks.

  Mac grinned. “Good. But I should be asking you that.”

  “I’ll be fine, Mac.” She settled a hand on his. “We need to talk.”

  He groaned inwardly. Her tone was reminiscent of the one Linda had used on him. What was it with women and their need to talk?

  She laughed and pulled her hand back. “Relax, Mac. It’s not what you think.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “I just do.” She gave him a knowing smile. “I didn’t get a chance before to tell you how much I appreciated your treating me like one of the guys out there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me. I know what was going through your head. You wanted me safe and out of the way.”

  Mac looked down at his coffee. “I’d want that for any of the people I work with.”

  “I saw that look in your eyes, Mac.” Dana took a sip of her drink. “You were afraid for me.”

  Mac shrugged. “Okay. And when you went down I about went crazy. I care about you. So sue me.”

  “Oh, Mac.” Dana’s gaze turned watery. “We need to talk about that too.” She licked her lips. “Just not right now. I need you to bring me up to date. I heard you had to take some admin leave.”

  “Right, just until the powers that be rule the shooting as justified.” No doubt he’d made a complete fool of himself. Dana had a boyfriend.

  “Good. So you get a vacation.”

  “Of sorts. I’m using the time to catch up on paperwork and wrap up loose ends. The latent guys at the lab matched the prints on the duct tape and boot print from the sawmill to Clovis, so looks like his story checked out on the first victim. No wonder Troy was so scared of him, if that’s what Clovis did to other associates in the poaching business. The prints Clovis left on my rifle, in addition to the confession he gave me before going over the cliff, tied the case up nice and tidy.”

  “Can I help? I’m sort of at odds too.”

  “Hmm.” Mac considered her request. He’d already written a letter to Troy Wilson’s daughter via his ex-wife, telling her how her father helped in the investigation and helped police catch a killer.

  “I need to talk with Brad’s family and answer any questions they have.”

  “Would you mind if I tagged along?”

  “I’d like that.” He’d been putting off the task, thinking it would be too emotional. “I was planning on heading up there this morning.”

  She nodded. “I have some good news.” Dana’s dimples deepened as she flashed him a wide smile.

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re getting married?” Mac wasn’t sure why he’d said that. Maybe because she looked like a woman in love.

  “Married?” Her smile faded. “No.” She laughed then. “I made detective. Mac. When I’m ready to go back, I’ll be working in your office.”

  Mac grinned and leaned back. “That’s great.” He wanted to be happy for her, and he was. But the position opening in detectives was probably Kevin’s.

  “Why
in the world would you think I was getting married?”

  He shrugged. “You looked so happy.”

  Dana rolled her eyes. “Mac, I’m not even dating anyone.”

  “You’re not?” Mac studied her for a moment. “Did your boyfriend have a hard time with you being a cop?”

  She sighed. “No. I broke it off. I decided Jason wasn’t my type.”

  “Am I your type?” Mac asked hopefully. Her silence made him wish he could take the words back.

  She smiled again. “It won’t work, Mac.”

  “Why?” He set his cup on the table. “We had a lot of fun together once. We could again, if you’d give it a chance.”

  “We’re too much alike. And now that I’ll be working with you, it’s just not a good idea.”

  “Professional ethics.” Mac knew she was right. Still, he didn’t have to like it.

  “Something like that.”

  Mac finished his coffee. Lifting his jacket off the back of the chair, he said, “Well, Detective Bennett. Are you ready to make a visit to the Gayneses?”

  MAC AND DANA CALLED AHEAD, and Todd and Vicki were eager for them to come. They arrived at the house at ten.

  “Jessica?” Mac stared open-mouthed at the attractive young woman who opened the door. She was wearing a maternity top and had her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

  She smiled and reached out to shake hands with Mac and Dana. “Surprised to see me here?”

  “Yes,” the two detectives said together.

  She leaned forward and, in a conspiratorial tone, said, “Me too.”

  Vicki came around a corner. “Mac, Dana. It’s so good to see you. Thanks for coming.”

  She took their coats. “Come on in and sit down. Todd’s in the family room.”

  Jessica led the way and asked if they wanted anything to drink.

  Neither did. They greeted Todd and took the proffered chairs.

  Vicki came in and settled an arm around Jessica’s shoulders.