[Logan Harper 02] - Every Precious Thing

by Battles, Brett

  Her first instinct had been right. It had been wedged beneath her seat. A cell phone.

  Harper’s or Martin’s.

  She tried to activate the display but the cell was password protected. Not a big deal. There were ways of getting around that if need be.

  She opened the back door. On the floor were the other phone and the men’s wallets and keys. She grabbed the second cell and put both of them on the front passenger seat. If they rang again, she wanted to see who was calling. That might come in handy.

  She decided to check the tracking device before she pulled back onto the road, and was glad she did. Harper’s car was stopped about seven miles ahead. She watched it, waiting to see if it moved again, but it didn’t.

  Ever since they’d turned off the interstate, Erica had known she’d made the right choice to follow them. If last night’s events had scared off Harper and his friend, they would still be on I-40, heading back to California. But a detour toward the Grand Canyon, the park where Diana had once worked? To her, that had to mean they were still on Sara’s trail.

  She checked the monitor again. Harper’s car had not moved. Were they waiting for something? Perhaps Sara herself? There was no way she’d learn that from the device in her hand. She needed to see with her own eyes.

  She pulled back onto the road, nearly cutting off a camper. The other driver laid on his horn and shouted silently at her through the window, but he disappeared as Erica sped away.

  Every few seconds, she would glance at the monitor. When the dot was only a mile and a half away, she gazed ahead, trying to pick out the El Camino in the distance. But though the view was clear, there were enough dips and turns in the road to make it impossible to see the other vehicle. The terrain caused another problem, too. Once she was close enough to see the truck, she wouldn’t be able to pull over without the men noticing. Hell, just driving by would be taking a chance, but that was one thing she couldn’t avoid. She needed to know what was going on.

  She sped up so that she was tucked in close to the car in front of her. Hopefully that would provide the shield she needed.

  It wasn’t until she was half a mile away that the El Camino finally came into view, its blue exterior standing out in sharp contrast to the browns and tans and greens of the plain.

  She hunched down in an effort to change her profile but it was unnecessary. Harper and Martin were sitting in the cab of the truck, talking.

  And they were alone.

  Damn. She’d been hoping the girl was with them. She could have then simply neutralized the situation, and walked away with the woman. Even if it had been Diana and not Sara, it would have been worth the risk.

  What the hell are they doing?

  She kept going for two miles, then turned down a dirt road and stopped. She grabbed her phone and called Clausen.

  “Update?” she asked.

  “We’re on our way.”

  Good. “How far are you from Williams?”

  “About an hour and a half away.”

  “Cut it to an hour, but call me before you get there and I’ll tell you exactly where to go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Were you able to learn anything new?”

  “He’s definitely the guy’s father.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Get anything else out of him?”

  “No,” Clausen said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “He’s not being very cooperative. I could try something…more aggressive.”

  Erica considered the idea. “No. Not yet.” She paused before adding, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t make the threat.”

  She hung up, switched to the monitoring screen, and waited for the dot to move again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  HARP HAD NEVER had a gun pointed at him in his life, at least not until he reached the bottom of the staircase at the Desert Inn Motel.

  “You open your mouth even to breathe and I pull the trigger. Understand?”

  The man standing in front of Harp was the same one he’d talked to in the hospital cafeteria just a little while earlier. Harp nodded.

  “Good. We’re going to walk to my car and go for a ride. You first.”

  Harp remained riveted to the bottom step. “I’m not getting in your—”

  “I said, don’t open your mouth. That’s your only warning. Let’s go.”

  Harp knew he had no choice. Even if he’d been younger, he’d have been no match for the man. Unlike his son, Harp had never had any military training, and the only real fight he’d ever been in was in fifth grade. That had ended quickly with him on the ground and Donald Yeager standing over him, laughing.

  The car turned out to be a dark blue sedan. A second man was sitting behind the wheel, his face blank as Harp climbed reluctantly into the backseat. The gunman followed and shut the door.

  “Let me see that,” the man said.

  He reached out and grabbed the copy of Lost Horizon from Harp’s hands.

  “No!” Harp said, trying to get it back.

  The man frowned at him. “Sit back.”

  As their car pulled away, he leafed through the book and then tossed it on the floor.

  “Please, can I just hold it?” Harp asked.

  “So you can try to hit me with it later? I don’t think so.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Shut up.”

  No one said anything else as they drove through town before getting on the interstate heading east.

  The silence continued until they reached Arizona, when the gunman looked over and said, “So, Mr. Harper, perhaps you should tell us what you were doing in Braden.”

  Harp’s initial fear had ebbed. Now he felt a surge of anger. “This is kidnapping,” he said. “And across state lines. Do you realize what kind of trouble you two are in?”

  “Seems to me you’re the only one in trouble here.” The man adjusted his hand holding the gun. “What were you doing in Braden?”

  “None of your business.”

  “What about Logan?”

  “Logan? You leave him alone!”

  The man paused. “Why did your…son leave town?”

  “He had to take care of some business.”

  The man smiled as if Harp had just told him something important. “Why is he interested in Diana Stockley?”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I’ve never heard of her.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Harp replied.

  “What were you doing in Braden?”

  Harp repeated his previous statement, and kept repeating it with each successive question, no matter what it was. How long this went on, Harp had no idea, but it seemed like forever. Finally the gunman told the driver to pull over.

  They took an exit that led to a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, and stopped along the side.

  “Watch him,” the gunman said. He got out of the car and raised a phone to his ear.

  The driver turned so he could see into the backseat. He grinned as he reached under his jacket and pulled out a gun, aiming it at Harp.

  It was overkill as far as Harp was concerned. As much as he would have liked to run, there was nowhere for him to go. And that was if he was able to run. He was almost eighty, for God’s sake. The best he could manage was a medium-paced walk. The others wouldn’t even break a sweat catching him.

  He glanced at the floor. Could he at least chance grabbing Tom’s book? He wanted to more than anything, but he doubted the driver would be too receptive if he tried.

  Outside, the gunman paced until he finished his call. “Let’s go,” he said as he climbed back in.

  They reentered the freeway.

  “Mr. Harper,” the gunman said. “Let’s try this again. What were you doing in Braden?”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  The gunman gave him his now familiar grin. “That phone call was an
update from one of our colleagues. I thought perhaps you’d like to know what’s being done to your son.”

  “What?” Harp said, confused.

  “Logan is being as uncooperative as you’ve been so far. So it looks like our friend will be forced to use stronger methods.”

  “What do you mean? He’d better not hurt him!”

  “Or what?”

  Harp hesitated, then said, “I don’t believe you. Logan wouldn’t let himself get caught.”

  “I don’t think anyone ever plans on getting caught, but your son and his friend…what was his name? Martin? Things didn’t turn out the way they anticipated.”

  Harp’s skin grew cold as blood rushed to his heart. Oh God, no!

  “So, I guess it’s up to you. You cooperate and everyone will be fine. You don’t? Well, I’m sure you can imagine.” He paused. “What were you doing in Braden?”

  Harp stared at the back of the seat in front of him. He wasn’t dumb enough to think that just because he cooperated, nothing would happen to Logan and Dev, but he knew for certain something would if he didn’t. Two choices, neither of them good.

  “We’re…we’re helping a friend.”

  “To do what?”

  Harp let out a defeated breath. “To find his wife.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “IT’S TEN FORTY,” Dev said.

  Logan stared out at the road heading toward the canyon. “I know.”

  Diana’s message had said if she wasn’t there by ten thirty, she wasn’t coming.

  “Five more minutes,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  The question of, “And then what?” hung in the air between them, but Logan didn’t have an answer for that yet.

  He checked the rearview mirror. The line of cars and vans and RVs continued. The problem was, he wasn’t sure if she would be coming from the Williams end or the Grand Canyon end. Or if she was coming at all.

  Two more minutes passed, three, then—

  The cell phone rang in a loud, inane tune that someone at the manufacturer had deemed appropriate. Since this was the first call Logan had received on it, adjusting the settings to vibrate hadn’t occurred to him.

  He hit the green button, cutting off the noise. “Hello.”

  “You’re playing some kind of joke on me, right?” Ruth asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The phone numbers you asked me to locate.”

  “What about them?”

  “I’m looking at a live map right now. I’ve got the phone you’re using right in the center. I see you’re taking a little vacation to the Grand Canyon.”

  “Did you locate the others?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Ruth, what are you talking about?”

  “Seriously?” she asked.

  Keeping his calm, Logan said, “I appreciate your help, and I know I’ve asked a lot. But if you know where the other phones are, please just tell me.”

  “Well, you should know where one of them is right about now.”

  He started to ask if she was joking with him when Dev’s voice cut him off.

  “Logan.”

  Logan looked over just in time to see a ten-year-old Pontiac Grand Prix pull abreast of the El Camino’s driver’s side window. Sitting behind the wheel was a man Logan didn’t recognize, but in the passenger seat was Diana.

  “I thought you didn’t have a phone,” she said, leaning through her window and staring past Dev at Logan.

  “You’re late,” he told her.

  “You’re lucky I came at all.”

  “You believe us now?”

  She pulled back inside her car. “Follow us, or don’t. It’s up to you.”

  Dirt shot up from under the back tires as the other car took off.

  Without having to be told, Dev started the engine and headed after them.

  “Are you still there?” Logan said into the phone.

  “Yes. Logan, you’re about to pass the second phone.”

  “What?”

  “About a mile ahead of you, on the right side of the road.”

  “Which phone?” he asked, thinking Sara might be closer than he’d realized.

  “Yours. Your original one, that is.”

  He paused, then put his hand over the phone and said to Dev, “Dr. Paskota’s less than a mile ahead on the right.”

  Dev looked surprised. “How did she find us?”

  “I don’t know.” Logan brought the phone back up. “And the last phone?”

  “It’s about twenty miles from your position. Off the main road, though. In fact, the map I’m looking at shows no roads within a mile of its location. You want the GPS coordinates?”

  Logan opened the glove compartment, cringing a bit when he saw his dad’s letter, and rummaged around for a pen and scrap paper. Once he had them, he said, “Give them to me.”

  As he was writing, Dev said, “Don’t look, but there she is.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Definitely. Same gray car. Same profile.”

  Dev switched his gaze to the rearview mirror.

  “What’s she doing?” Logan asked.

  “Nothing yet.”

  To Ruth, Logan said, “Can you hold on for a few minutes? I want to see what the car we just passed does.”

  “Logan, I have—”

  “Please,” he said.

  “Fine.”

  For the next two miles, no one spoke. Then Ruth said, “He’s moving.”

  “She,” Logan corrected her.

  “Okay, she’s moving.”

  “Which way?”

  “After you.”

  “Fast?” Logan asked, figuring the woman would want to get them in visual range.

  “No. She’s going about the same speed you are.”

  The same speed? Did she feel safe leaving that much room between them because, for the moment anyway, there wasn’t really anywhere to turn off the road? But how would she know how fast they were going?

  “I want to try something,” Logan said so that both Dev and Ruth could hear him. “Ruth, don’t hang up. Dev, get Diana’s attention and get them to pull over to the side.”

  Dev flashed the Grand Prix with the El Camino’s lights several times, and flipped on the right turn signal. At first, the other car did nothing. Then, after Dev repeated the whole process, it slowed and angled onto the shoulder, where it stopped. Dev eased the El Camino in behind it.

  “Anything happen?” Logan asked Ruth.

  “No. She’s still coming your—” She stopped herself. “Hold on. She just pulled to the side of the road.”

  “How far back?”

  “A mile and a half.”

  “Son of a bitch. Hang on.” He looked at Dev. “Check the car. She’s got us bugged somehow.”

  He put the phone on the dash, hopped out, and ran over to the Grand Prix. Diana looked at him through the window for a moment before rolling it down.

  “What?” she asked.

  “There’s a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “One of the people from last night is following us.”

  Her sense of detached self-control disappeared. “What?”

  “We’re out of here,” the guy behind the wheel said as he reached for the gearshift.

  “Hold on,” Logan told him. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

  “No way,” the guy said.

  Logan locked eyes with Diana. “Just a few minutes.”

  “If he’s following us, won’t he be here any second?”

  “Diana, don’t listen to him,” the driver said.

  She shot him a look. “Richard. I’ll handle this.”

  He didn’t look very happy.

  Diana returned her attention to Logan, waiting for an answer.

  “She won’t be.”

  “She?”

  “Yes.”

  Diana looked apprehensive. “How do you know?”

  “I
do, okay?”

  Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

  “Two minutes,” she said. “That’s it.”

  He nodded his thanks and ran back to the El Camino. Dev was on the ground halfway under the car on the passenger side.

  “Anything?” Logan asked.

  “I checked my side,” Dev said. “And around the front. I didn’t see anything.”

  Logan looked into the bed of the truck, but with the exception of his and Dev’s bags, there was nothing there that could have hidden a tracking device.

  Dev scooted out from under the car. “Nothing there, either. Maybe there isn’t anything. What if they have two cars? Someone we don’t know in the other one, keeping tabs on us?”

  Logan looked out at the road. That was a possibility, but if there was someone else, they weren’t in sight at the moment.

  He leaned down and felt around the wheel well on the back passenger side. Having basically rebuilt the El Camino himself, there wasn’t an inch of its surface that he didn’t know. The well was clean.

  Moving quickly, he ran his hand along the inside bottom of the fender all the way to the back, then got down on his knees and moved his hand along the inside bottom of the rear bumper.

  He almost missed it.

  As it was, he had to go back a second time to make sure there was something there. It was small, and wasn’t right on the bottom, but up the side a bit. The only reason he found it was because it brushed against his knuckle.

  Carefully, he grabbed it between his fingers and pulled. There was some resistance at first that made him wonder if it had been glued in place, but then it popped free.

  He frowned. He’d seen one of these before, albeit a military-grade model. It had been developed and manufactured by one of Forbus International’s competitors.

  He wrapped his fingers around it, and had to hold himself back from chucking it as far into the brush as he could.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Diana called out.

  She was looking back at him, her head and shoulders sticking out the window.

  As he jogged toward her, he said to Dev, “Get back in the car.”

  When he reached the Grand Prix, he showed Diana the tracking bug. “Who are these people?” he asked.

  “What is that?”

  “This is a Fitzer.”

  “Fitzer?”