by M. L. Harris
Then he heard it.
The snapping of a twig close by.
He quickened his pace and hurried along the trail before reaching a point where the path cut up a diagonal crack in the rock face.
His legs propelled his body forward and each breath was more labored than the last. Resisting the urge to look back he came to a stretch of the trail overlooking a steep canyon.
Moving swiftly he was momentarily distracted by a pair of rock climbers in the far distance. He turned his eyes back to the path and headed for a clearing a hundred yards away.
He would never make it.
A man jumped from a clump of underbrush a few steps behind him as he ran in full stride. His leg was kicked out from under him and he stumbled and fell to the ground.
Rolling onto his back he faced his attacker. As he looked up he saw Ivan: tattooed and cold black eyes staring back at him.
“Get up,” Ivan told him.
Ross got to his feet as a raw fear consumed him. He recoiled and looked away from this hideous monster projecting a horrible terror.
Then a revelation stuck Ross.
My partners were murdered.
Ivan loomed above him and Ross now stood only a few steps from the edge of a cliff.
“What do you want, cooperation?”
“Sorry, ain’t no time for that.”
Ross trembled as he glanced over his shoulder with his feet inches away from the edge of the cliff.
“God help you,” were his last words as Ivan pushed him off the cliff.
Ross hurled into a free fall and Ivan watched as he plunged ninety feet to his death.
With his work done Ivan advanced along a predetermined route and vanished from the park without a trace.
Chapter
26
The city traffic was brutal as Detective Emily Gower headed for the police station. Her eyes darted to one side as she barely missed a taxi driver who cut her off.
“Watch where the hell you’re going,” she shouted from an open window.
She jotted down the cabbie’s license plate number.
Retaliation would have to wait.
Growing angrier and more frustrated she pulled into a parking space and bolted from her car. As she marched into the building her steps quickened. Emily was pissed because another prominent citizen had been murdered. Earlier, a hiker discovered the body of Zachary Ross in a patch of underbrush near the foot of a trail.
The body count had increased to three.
An accident.
Or so she had been told.
Accident my ass.
Emily’s blood pressure was going through the roof as she approached a door with lettering stenciled on it.
CHIEF OF POLICE
Entering and closing the door behind her Emily held out a photo of the corpse of Zachary Ross.
“This was two hours ago,” she said.
“I know,” the Chief replied as he examined the grisly image. “This accident story the Park Police are putting out is bullshit.”
The Chief leaned back in his chair.
“What’s on your mind, Emily?”
“I need more manpower on this case,” she replied as she pounded her fist on a file cabinet.
The Chief sighed.
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. By the way, I’m thinking about bringing Metro in on this.”
Emily shot him a disapproving look.
“You and I both know that’s a bad idea, and for reasons I don’t want to discuss.”
The Chief looked down at the papers on his desk.
“Just keep busting your ass. Something will crop up. It always does.”
“And soon, I hope,” Emily replied as she closed the door and went out.
Chapter
27
After the death of Zachary Ross the need to locate Ivan is taking on a renewed sense of urgency. As each hour passes the pressure ratchets higher, and the race against time is never-ending.
Jack and I discussed the situation and we reached a decision.
There is simply no other option.
We’re abandoning the townhouse and not coming back. It’s just too risky. Ivan knows we have evidence and he intends to kill us. We don’t know this monster. Is he a cop killer? Could he become one? How far is he willing to take this? That’s the problem: we don’t know. And neither Jack nor I want to hang around and find out.
In addition, the hunt for this animal has become all-consuming and we can’t be effective without freedom of movement. Feeling deeply conflicted and frightened, Jack and I pack our things and sneak out through the passage.
I don’t know about Jack but I’m finding it difficult to break the habit of looking over my shoulder as we hurry along the street and call for a taxi. Ten minutes later the driver rolls up. He gets out and helps with our duffel bags before we climb in and tell him to head north. Of course we both know that Emily will be, like, totally pissed.
And indeed she is.
Later we’ll learn that Detective Gower had gone to the townhouse to pay a visit. She rang the doorbell several times and then banged on the door and a few windows too.
What the hell?
She ripped into the officer who was on protection duty and then Emily got a judge to issue a “sneak and peek” warrant. Basically it’s a covert entry authorized under the USA Patriot Act. The police can enter your property without your consent or knowledge.
Anyway, Emily started to boil when she entered the townhouse and discovered the escape passage and knew that we’d bailed on her.
She kicked a moving box and it sailed across the basement.
Those damn fools are going to get themselves killed.
Chapter
28
The scenery is changing from urban sprawl to a pastoral setting as we get farther away from the city. I look out the window of the taxi and gaze out at vineyards and the rolling countryside of Napa Valley.
Jack is talking on his cell phone and he is deep in conversation with one of the Berkeley Boys, developing strategies. I guide the taxi driver off the main highway and onto a narrow asphalt road. A few minutes later we turn down a gravel lane and eventually I see a cozy little cottage built from stones. It is nestled under a canopy of trees along the shoreline of the Napa River.
“It’s absolutely enchanting,” I say.
“Not a bad place to hide out,” Jack replies as he gets out.
We unload the duffel bags and a couple of suitcases. Jack pays the cab driver and we watch him disappear down the lane.
I stretch my legs and take in the surroundings. The view of the river is breathtaking and the nearest neighbor lives almost a quarter of a mile away which affords both privacy and seclusion.
The cottage belongs to a friend of Jack and it’s been in the family for decades.
Jack tosses me the key to the front door and when we come inside the interior is equally charming. The kitchen has been updated and French doors open to a deck overlooking the river. There’s a living room with a stone fireplace and wood-beamed ceiling. Also there are two bedrooms that share a bath.
“I’m going to jump in the shower and get cleaned up,” Jack says.
A few minutes later he’s standing beneath the shower head and letting the warm water relax his muscles when I open the door. As he turns I press a bite from a freshly-baked muffin into his mouth.
He grabs my arm and pulls me in with him.
Slowly he slides my top over my shoulders as he smiles widely.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and press my lips firmly against his mouth.
With his strong hands he removes my skirt and then my panties, tossing each of them over the glass enclosure.
Naked and filled with renewed energy we grope and kiss each other and our hands and lips explore in every place.
I take a sponge from the shelf and scrub his back in slow, circular motions.
Having moved quickly from relaxation to arousal he eagerly reciprocat
es the gesture.
The recreation moves into the bedroom and we make love as lazy hours pass. Eventually the tensions are relinquished and we bask in the joy of intimacy.
Later I am outside on the deck, setting the table.
I move inside and begin preparing French toast at the stove. Jack approaches from behind and gently kisses me on the neck.
“That was incredible,” he says as he steps out on the deck. He relaxes at the table, sipping his orange juice and looking out at the river.
“Coffee?” I ask.
“No thanks. I’m wide awake.”
I grin. Me too.
“That really helped. I feel great,” he says.
He notices that my expression is pensive.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
“I was just thinking about this Ivan guy. Now that we have a name to go with the face, why don’t we get the Berkeley Boys to spread out beyond the Tenderloin district?”
“You mean in San Francisco?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a good idea. They might come across somebody who knows him.”
“Right,” I reply as I bite into a fresh strawberry.
I’m drinking my coffee and looking at the river when Jack gets up and starts for the door.
“Going somewhere?”
“Just checking the perimeter. Can’t be too careful.”
“Will you be long?”
He plants a kiss on my cheek. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
Twenty minutes later he comes back inside and I’m standing at the kitchen sink, finishing up a conversation with one of the guys back in the city.
I press the End button.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Fine.”
I notice that he’s holding his arm behind his back. And he is smiling.
“What do you have there?”
He extends his hand and reveals a lovely bouquet of flowers.
The colors are dazzling.
“I picked them for you… along the shoreline.”
I look up into those deep blue eyes.
“They’re absolutely beautiful,” I say and kiss him. “I’ll put them in some water.”
My guy, the romantic!
I turn back to the sink and begin arranging the flowers.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we’ll catch a break soon?”
He lets out a heavy sigh.
“I sure hope so, sweetheart. Time is running out.”
He slides his hands over my shoulders and massages them.
“Keep a positive mental attitude, right?” I say.
“Yep.”
After a few moments of silence I say, “This place is really wonderful. It’s peaceful and safe. But I’m feeling out of the loop, you know, away from the action in the city.”
“Here we go with your aggressive instincts.”
“Do you have to put it like that?”
“It’s true.”
“I just think we’d be more effective. We can’t sit around here. What if Ivan tracked us down? We’d be sitting ducks.”
“So… back on the offensive. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I think it’s a better strategy. Don’t you?”
“Higher risk. But what the hell, we only live once, right?”
I smile and say, “That’s the spirit. I’ll tidy up.”
“Okay, we’ll take off in a couple of hours.”
Jack makes some calls while I finish closing up the cottage.
“Ready?” he asks.
“I guess so,” I reply with some hesitation.
We step out front with our bags, waiting for the taxi as the afternoon sun begins to settle on the horizon.
In just a short period of time this cottage has grown on us.
As the taxi comes up the lane I take one last look around.
Will we ever know peace like this again?
We load our bags into the trunk and climb in the backseat.
I close my eyes and try to calm the tempest of emotions that is swirling inside me.
What challenges and dangers await us back in the city?
Little did I know.
Chapter
29
I see a highway exit ramp and ask the taxi driver to take us into San Francisco. The hotel we selected is low key: they accept cash and don’t ask a lot of questions.
“This is it,” I tell the driver. “Turn in here.”
He pulls to the entrance and we enter the lobby where I approach the desk clerk and check in. We ride the elevator to the fifth floor and when we enter our room Jack heads for the minibar and pulls out a bottle of beer. He drains it as he plops in a chair by the window.
I set my shoulder bag on the floor and take a seat across the table from Jack as he opens a window to let in the cool night air.
Before long the table is covered with notepads and contacts for the band of Berkeley Boys who are combing the city and pursuing leads on the whereabouts of Ivan the killer.
“This guy is one tough bastard to nail down,” I say as I leaf through papers.
“That crooked lawyer Hector Gray said he’s a ghost,” Jack replies. “Maybe he was right.”
“Hey, no man’s an island. With the manpower we have hunting his ass somebody’s going to catch a break. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Something we don’t have,” Jack reminds me.
I’m slumped over a heap of papers and I raise my fingers to my temples and massage them.
“Tell me about it.”
Jack calls room service and orders a bottle of wine. When it’s delivered he uncorks it and presses his body against mine.
“Care to join me on the balcony?”
I look up at him and smile.
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“That’s the idea.”
He steps outside, fills two glasses and stretches out on a chaise.
I curl up beside him and nestle my head into his neck as a bright moon hangs low in the night sky.
Following a long silence I say, “You know, we can stop now. Just throw in the towel.”
“I’ve thought about it but I’d prefer to keep breathing as long as possible.”
I laugh and reply, “We can go away someplace.”
“He’ll find us.”
“Being on the run in a tropical paradise somewhere would be better than this.”
“He won’t stop until we’re six feet under.”
“Why go looking for trouble?”
“What would we do, lie around and get lazy?”
“Okay with me.”
“I have to use it or lose it.”
“That’s okay with me too.”
“I’m not giving up, Maggie.”
I turn and face him.
“You passed.”
“What?”
“You passed the test. I needed to know that you’re as determined as I am to nail this creep.”
Jack seems taken aback by my intensity.
“I’m glad I gave the right answers. What if I hadn’t? Would you have kicked me to the curb?”
“The vote isn’t in yet,” I reply jokingly.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. Can we drop it now?”
“You’re the one who brought it up.”
My eyes narrow.
“Comments like that aren’t going to score you points in the bedroom.”
He grins and refills my glass.
“Maybe this’ll help.”
I roll my eyes.
The effects of the wine are setting in and Jack suggests a retreat inside. We get on our feet and I walk unsteadily, holding on to him with both arms.
He whispers in my ear.
“What was it you said about scoring points in the bedroom?”
Chapter
30
I’ve been scurrying across the city all morning checking in with the Be
rkeley Boys and making inquiries about Ivan the monster. I’m beginning to think that he is nothing more than a figment of my imagination.
So far the hunt has not turned up a single lead.
I am fighting impulses of discouragement.
Returning to our hotel I pass the front desk on my way to the elevators and a woman rises from a chair and approaches me.
“Excuse me, are you Maggie Croft?” she asks politely.
I look her over.
“Maybe.”
She’s a gorgeous brunette with a low-cut silk blouse and short skirt that reveal a lot of cleavage and curves.
She persists by saying, “I’m looking for Ms. Croft.”
“Who wants to know?”
She extends a perfectly manicured hand to shake.
“My name is Amber. I believe you’re looking for a man by the name of Ivan Riktor?”
“Who isn’t?”
“Well, I might know where to find him.”
“You might?”
She continues to pour on the charm.
“I’m ninety percent certain. I’d appreciate an opportunity to discuss this with you.”
She glances over her shoulder toward the hotel bar.
“Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”
I shrug.
Why not? What do I have to lose? I’ll do anything to get my hands on that creep.
I follow her into the bar and heads turn as she saunters in. We step over to a table and a server appears, then quickly returns with our drinks.
Amber engages me in small talk as the server comes around a couple more times with more drinks.
I desperately need to blow off some steam. A few drinks will do the job nicely.
“I’ve got the information in my room,” she says finally.
I pause.
“Okay,” I reply casually. “Let’s go.”
We ride the elevator to the sixth floor and enter her room. Once inside, Amber excuses herself.
“I have to use the bathroom.”
“No problem.”
She disappears and a few minutes later she emerges to see me sitting at the edge of the bed pointing a gun at her.
“Who are you working for?” I demand.
Shocked, she stammers. “I… don’t know what you mean.”
“Enough bullshit. I want answers now.”
