Desperate Measures

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Aleshia,” Crystal said, “it’s better to tell them. We have nothing to hide.” Turning to Jennie she said, “She was at home.”

  “Where is Aleshia’s car?” Agent Tucker asked before Jennie had a chance.

  “Parked in a campground near here,” Crystal answered. “Off the main road. Aleshia picked Scott and me up at the hospital in the truck. My car is still in the hospital lot.”

  “I had Crystal drop me off at the farm to pick up my car,” Aleshia said finally. “I met them at the campground and rode up here with them in the truck.”

  Tucker signaled one of the agents, asking him to check the truck for prints. The accusations Jennie had made left Scott and Crystal looking stunned. Aleshia’s face still held an expression of disbelief.

  The tape recorder in Jennie’s pocket clicked off. The small noise was almost deafening in the silence.

  “What was that?” the agent holding her and Scott at gunpoint demanded.

  “A tape recorder.” Jennie had done nothing wrong yet felt enormous guilt. .

  Tucker approached her, hand extended. “Let’s have it.”

  While she had planned from the start to give the tape to the agent, she did it now with reluctance.

  “You recorded us?” Crystal stood there openmouthed. “How could you do that?”

  Aleshia set her jaw. “This is your fault, Chambers. You told us we could trust her. I expected better of you. I’ll get you for this. I don’t know how, but I will.”

  “No one’s getting anyone.” Tucker pocketed the tape recorder and nodded at the other agents. “Get them into town. Jennie, you come with me. I’ll drive Sutherland’s truck. Miss Sutherland, I trust you have the keys.”

  Aleshia tipped her head back. “You want them, you can get them yourself.”

  “Aleshia,” Crystal gently prodded, “we should cooperate. We haven’t done anything wrong. Let’s not push it.”

  “Smart lady. You’ll do well to listen to your friend. Now, let’s try this again. Where are the keys?”

  “They’re in the ignition.”

  The agent sent to get prints off the truck’s interior backed out of the driver’s side. “I’m finished. I lifted several sets of prints off the wheel and dash.”

  “Okay, let’s go,” Tucker said.

  One of the agents prodded Scott to move ahead.

  “Wait!” Jennie yelled. “You’re not going to make him walk out, are you? Can’t you see his leg is in a cast?”

  “Relax, kid. It’s only for a few feet.” While the agent spoke, a huge truck with a camouflage canopy rumbled in.

  “Your friends will go in that,” Tucker said.

  “Can’t I go with them? I’d like a chance to explain.”

  “No.” Tucker took the agent with Scott aside. “I’ll take Jennie to the Bergstroms’ had meet you at the sheriff’s office.”

  The agents instructed Aleshia, Crystal, and Scott to get into the back of the truck. Two agents climbed in back with the prisoners, while two sat up front. When they’d gone, Tucker doused the fire, loaded up the truck with camp stuff that was lying around, and helped Jennie into the cab of the Sutherlands’ truck.

  They rode in silence for several minutes before Jennie finally spoke. “You didn’t have to follow me,” she said. “I was perfectly safe.”

  “Were you?” He glanced at her, his features stern and unyielding in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

  “They trusted me. They trusted Scott. He was trying to—”

  “Avoid arrest?”

  “He was afraid you wouldn’t believe him. He’s still on your side.”

  “Do you know that for sure?”

  Jennie heaved a heavy sigh and leaned her head against the window. Fairly certain wouldn’t cut it. “If you were worried about me, why did you let me go into the camp? Why didn’t you stop us at the slide?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “What—did you lose us?”

  He gave her a half smile and shook his head. “Flat tire. By the time we caught up with your friends, you were already gone. We sent them home and had to find another way in. Took us a while to locate the camp. Agent Conner had you in his sights the whole time but was ordered not to go in until he had backup—unless he could see that you were in imminent danger.”

  “I still think you shouldn’t have arrested them. Scott says he was close to finding out who Sonja is. He thinks Sonja was the one who hit him.”

  “He may be right. Even if we find he’s being straight with us, we can’t let him stay out here. It’s not safe for him to be on the case anymore. Someone is on to him. The word is out to ARM members that Scott is working with the FBI.”

  “So you’re arresting Scott for his own protection?”

  “We’re taking him to a safe location until we can sort this out.” Jennie’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I just thought of something. If Aleshia ran Scott down, she must have already known he wasn’t one of them. Only—she didn’t act like she knew. Neither did Crystal. And if they did, wouldn’t they have done something about Scott before now? When I saw the condition of this truck, I automatically suspected Aleshia, but now that I think about it, it doesn’t seem likely. They were both really nice to me. Scott told them to let me come in to see him, and they did. I think they totally believed Scott was one of them. They talked openly with me and made it clear that they stayed away from anything illegal.”

  “Crystal and Aleshia might be nice, Jennie. Unfortunately, they have a warped sense of justice. For them the ends justify the means. They believe they’re innocent as long as they aren’t actively participating in the raids or the fires or the bombings. But they write about it. They make the terrorists sound like heroes.”

  “Maybe so, but some of their ideas are good. They want to protect animals from abuse.”

  “Humph. Jennie, you could have a dozen eggs and all of them except one could be okay. But if you toss the rotten egg in with the good, you taint all of them. They walk a fine line, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if one or both of them hadn’t crossed over it. You’re forgetting, too, that these girls aren’t working alone. It’s entirely possible Aleshia ordered the hit on Scott and on her father.”

  He was right. Their dedication to ARM and their near worship of the leader tainted their lives. Still, thinking back to the way Aleshia and Crystal had talked to her, she couldn’t quite see them killing anyone.

  “If you plan on going into law enforcement, you’re going to have to get a little tougher on crime.”

  “Not everything is clear cut. There are gray areas,” Jennie defended.

  “You got that right. Too many holes.”

  “Are you any closer to figuring out who killed Mr. Sutherland?”

  He shook his head. “Are you?”

  She laughed at that. “I’ve got some ideas.” “Well, let’s hear them.”

  Jennie sneaked a look at him to see whether or not he was serious. He caught her glance and said, “Go ahead.”

  “I think we need to reconstruct that morning before Mr. Sutherland turned up missing. Seems like he had a lot of people coming and going. Scott stopped to talk to him. Tom dropped by to see how his back was doing. Of course, I’m sure neither of them did it, so it would have to have been one of the others. Christine said she left at ten-thirty to go shopping. Aleshia said she came back shortly after that to talk to her dad about Christine’s birthday. She wanted to kill her dad when she saw that he had killed Sasha.”

  Tucker raised his eyebrows. “Sasha—the fox.”

  “Right.”

  “And Aleshia told you all this tonight?”

  “Yes. It should all be on the tape. I would have gotten more if you hadn’t butted in.”

  “That’s the thanks we get for saving your skin?” He chuckled. “Go on.”

&
nbsp; “Aleshia said she hit him and pushed him down, then ran into Jim on her way out. They went down to the lake and talked, then she left to meet her mom in town and Jim went home.”

  “Did she say when she left?”

  “At eleven-thirty. Jim could have gone back and killed him. He could be lying about where he’d put the pelt.”

  “Oh, you think so, huh?” The agent wasn’t taking her seriously, but she liked talking it out and trying to clarify things in her own mind.

  “It makes sense. If he killed Mr. Sutherland and threw the pelt away, he’d have known the pelt was in the garbage can. He could have lied about where he found it so you’d think he really didn’t do it.”

  He nodded. “Know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think you ought to forget about being a cop and become a mystery writer.”

  “Well, it’s possible—he did have a motive. Mr. Sutherland’s cruelty toward Aleshia could have set him off. Maybe he went back to have a showdown with Mr. Sutherland.” Jennie sighed, remembering the timetable. “That doesn’t work, does it? Like Tom said, Jim wouldn’t have had time to do all that. Unless he and Aleshia were in on it together.”

  “Going back over the parade of people Bob saw that morning is good thinking. You mentioned Tom. What do you think about him as a suspect?”

  “He doesn’t have a motive.”

  “That you know of. Now, if Tom is Sonja, the motive might be as simple as wanting to rid the world of another mink farmer.”

  “I know you’re supposed to look at everyone as a suspect, but somehow I don’t see Tom as a killer.”

  “That your gut feeling?”

  “Um—yeah, I guess it is. Or maybe it’s that I’ve known them for years.”

  “Everyone can be provoked to anger. Given the right circumstances, anyone could kill. I suspect whoever killed Sutherland did so in a fit of rage. There doesn’t necessarily need to be a reason other than that.”

  “Yes, but … shouldn’t you look at motives just the same? Like who stands to profit the most from Mr. Sutherland’s death? There must be an insurance policy. Does Mrs. Sutherland stand to get a lot of money?”

  “We’re way ahead of you there, Jennie. In fact, in an investigation like this, the wife is often the first person of interest. The policy isn’t a big one—pays off the mortgage on the house and gives her seventy-five thousand dollars cash. Christine gets the business, of course, but it was already hers since they had joint ownership. She’s not thrilled about that—means she’d have to run it herself. Aleshia isn’t about to help. She’s planning to sell.”

  “Really? Seems awfully soon.”

  “It’s not that unusual. Widows often sell—too many memories. You have to admit it’s a pretty big operation for a woman like Christine.”

  “I suppose so. Still, she could hire another person besides Stan.” Saying Stan’s name sent Jennie’s thoughts in another direction. She reigned them in to listen to Agent Tucker.

  “What I find even more interesting is that Tom wants to buy the place. If you were looking for motive on Tom’s part—that might be it.”

  “I don’t believe that for one minute. I was just thinking—wasn’t Stan the one who called in to report that Sutherland was missing?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Maybe he went to tell, Mr. Sutherland he had to leave for a few days. Mr. Sutherland wouldn’t have been too happy about that. Suppose he got mad at Stan … after all, Stan was out in the barns when the raid took place. He could have had a fight with Mr. S. and killed him, then called the sheriff.”

  Tucker agreed that might be a possibility. He glanced into the rearview mirror and frowned. “That’s odd.”

  Jennie turned around, her gaze settling on the headlights coming up behind them. “Are they following us?”

  “Could be. I noticed them a ways back. There’s not much traffic out here. We still haven’t hit the freeway. Of course, there are some homes out in this area, so it could be a local resident.”

  Although they had left the narrow one-lane road, they were still on a secondary highway with little room for a car to pass. The vehicle was gaining on them, coming too fast for comfort.

  Fear rose like bile in the pit of her stomach. She’d been through this sort of thing before—twice, in fact. Once in Florida when a truck slammed into Gram’s rental car and it flipped over the railing, plunging them into the treacherous Gulf waters near Dolphin Island. The other was on the coast highway when she was forced off the road over a cliff. She’d survived with with only minor injuries, but they say the third time is a charm.

  A charm. Right. This time, though, you’re in a truck, she reminded herself.

  “Whoever it is seems to be in a hurry.” Tucker pulled off onto the shoulder, and the car passed. Air hissed through Jennie’s teeth.

  Tucker gave her an odd look, shifted, and drove on. “What’s with the panic attack?”

  Jennie told him about her near misses. “I was afraid this would be another one.”

  He smiled. “I can see why you’d be a little nervous. No need to worry about that one, though. Probably just a local.”

  “Right.”

  Tucker pulled the tape out of his pocket and plugged it into the truck’s tape player. “Might as well see what you’ve got on this.”

  What she had was static and not much else. “It’s awful. The stupid thing didn’t pick up anything expect my jacket moving against it.”

  “I’m not surprised. Tape recorders like this aren’t very good for surveillance. Next time, get a better quality machine. Better yet, talk to us before you head out on your own. It’s not a big Joss, though. From what you told me they didn’t leak any top-secret information.”

  “That’s true.” Jennie couldn’t decide if Agent Tucker was amusing himself at her expense or if he really was interested in her observations. Leaning comfortably against the seat again, she picked up the thread she’d been following earlier. “So what do you think about Stan as a suspect?”

  “Bears checking into. Holy—” Tucker slammed on the brakes.

  A wall of flames exploded in front of them. The truck skidded on the slick pavement, went into a spin, and headed straight for a tree.

  20

  “Hold on!” Agent Tucker yanked the wheel to the left. The truck spun, tipping wildly.

  Too terrified to scream, Jennie pressed her feet to the floor, her hands to the dash. She closed her eyes but couldn’t shut off the sound of screeching tires or the caustic smell of smoke and gasoline.

  She opened her eyes again and wished she hadn’t. The fire was to their left now, flames rolling and fierce, reminding Jennie of something out of a James Bond movie. They’d spun almost full circle. Tucker’s correction caused them to miss the trees, but not the waterfall or the solid rock wall behind it. The truck lurched forward into the ditch, then crashed into the rocks.

  The windshield shattered. An airbag exploded out of its nest, slamming Jennie against the seat. Almost instantly the taut bag went limp, hanging out like a tongue. Jennie dropped forward, straining against the seat belt. If not for the belt, she’d have fallen against Agent Tucker.

  The air bags left behind a blast of white dust. Jennie’s lungs burned, and she and Tucker began coughing. She’d heard somewhere that the dust was a propellant and very caustic. Jennie rolled down the window to let in some air. The dust began to settle, making the air inside the cabin more breathable.

  The truck had hit the rocks at an angle with the driver’s side taking the hardest blow. The waterfall’s relentless surge pounded against the windshield, pouring through a six-inch hole and dousing the cab and its occupants with chilling mountain water.

  Tucker grunted as he tried to extricate himself from the seat belt. “You okay, Jennie?” He spoke through gritted teeth as though he was in a grea
t deal of pain.

  “I … I think so. How about you?” She reached up and felt around the dome light for a switch. She breathed a sigh of relief when it came on.

  “Not so good. My shoulder’s hurt. Legs … are pinned under here. Can’t move. Looks like my door is jammed shut. Can you get out?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jennie pulled the handle back and pushed. Her strength proved no match for the heavy door and the gravity that seemed to add another hundred pounds of pressure. She managed to open it a few inches. It slammed back, nearly trapping her fingers in its metal grip. “It’s too heavy. I’ll have to climb out the window.”

  “Wait—see if you can find the cell phone.”

  Find the cell phone. Check Tucker for injuries. Stop the water. A list of things she needed to do ran in her head. There were far too many. Jennie’s hand shook as she sought to release the seat belt. Cell phone first. Call for help.

  Jennie felt like a monkey hanging on to whatever secure device she could find, then bracing and balancing herself so she wouldn’t fall against Tucker. Hanging upside down, she managed to locate the cell phone. “It’s wedged under the brake,” Jennie panted.

  “Can you get it out?”

  “Your foot’s in the way.”

  “Which one?”

  “Right.”

  Tucker gritted his teeth and tried to move it. “No use. It won’t budge. Shove my foot out of the way.”

  “I don’t want to move it.”

  “Don’t argue,” he gasped. “Just do it.”

  Jennie sucked in a deep breath, pulling gently at first, then harder. She could almost feel Tucker’s pain as he cried out. With tears in her eyes, she retrieved the cell phone and lifted if out of the pink-tinged water. “You’re bleeding. I need to—”

  “No. Call first.”

  “I don’t even know where we are.”

  “Tell them we’re—” He groaned again and passed out.

  A small noise escaped through the hand she’d pressed to her mouth to keep from screaming. Calm down, McGrady. You can do this. You are not going to cry. You are going to get help. She concentrated on taking several long, deep breaths while she punched in 9-1-1.