Close To The Edge (Westen #2)

by Ferrell, Suzanne

  “Be careful, Gage…Gage?” Static buzzed in her ear.

  Dammit. Why wouldn’t he wait for help?

  Because he’s the big, bad cop, that’s why!

  No. He feels responsible. His men have been injured, his town threatened. He wants someone to pay for this mess. Him or Davis.

  Please let it be Davis.

  ***

  “It’s mine. They won’t take it from me. Not when I’m this close.”

  Davis’ mutterings rambled up out of the tunnel’s entrance Gage crouched beside. It took all his control not to rush down and confront the bastard—he’d been seeing red since finding Daniel unconscious, then Cleetus shot in the leg and bleeding from a hit to the head—but he needed to move with caution.

  Despite Davis’ small size—Gage still couldn’t believe the quiet, unassuming man he’d known as the town’s only reporter since the day he and Dad had moved to town was behind the drug operation and two murders—he’d laid out both Daniel and Cleetus, men nearly twice his size. Davis was armed and wouldn’t hesitate to use the gun if cornered, just like he’d used it to shoot Cleetus. If he couldn’t stop Davis, there was no one to keep him from going after Bobby out in the dark by herself.

  The idea tore at his gut and bile rose in his throat.

  In just a few days she’d worked her way past the barrier around his heart and become as important to him as air. And because he’d been blind to the actions of a madman in his town she could lose her life.

  He damn well wasn’t letting that happen, even if it took every last drop of his blood to prevent it.

  “Can’t carry it all. Not much time.” Davis’ voice became shrill with his own panic.

  Carefully, Gage eased down into the tunnel’s opening, loose dirt raining down around him. The noise sounded like fire alarms in his ears.

  Once his feet settled on the inclined floor, he drew his gun from his jeans’ waistband and paused, holding his breath to listen.

  Davis had gone back to muttering. From the way he still slammed around in the secret room it sounded as if he hadn’t heard any noise from the tunnel.

  Gage exhaled and inhaled again, willing his pulse and breathing to slow. Think. Calm. Breathe. Too much depended on him getting the surprise jump on Davis.

  With deliberate steps and holding the gun in front of him with both hands, he made his way down the dark incline toward the light and the racket his prey made.

  “Got to get this out first. Come back for the rest,” the shrill voice said with laughter.

  “No. One trip. They’ll be here soon. Take as much as you can get,” Davis seemed to be muttering again.

  If he didn’t know better, Gage would think there were two people in the room up ahead of him.

  Did Davis have an accomplice he didn’t know about?

  Shit.

  One man he could take down effectively. Two meant more trouble. More danger. More chances for one of them to get away and find Daniel and Bobby where she hid.

  He swallowed the bile once more. One step in front of the other he neared the room.

  At the door he pressed his body up against the tunnel’s wall, staying in the shadows and letting his eyes adjust to the yellowish light cast around the room by the ancient lantern sitting on the table. Shadows danced as Davis, his gun in one hand and his back to him, shoved baggies of the meth into the duffel bag he held. A second one bulging with more of the dangerous drug sat at his feet.

  Deep breath. Exhale. Deep breath.

  Extending his arms out, leading with the pistol, Gage crouched low and moved forward, checking for anyone else who might be in the room. Davis appeared to be alone and talking to himself.

  “Richard, stop what you’re doing.”

  Davis whirled. The wiry man’s eyes wide as his gaze darted around until he fixed it on him. “You’re early, Sheriff. I hoped you take a little longer to get back out here.”

  “Put your hands up, Richard. I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

  With a tight grip on the bag, Davis backed up from the table toward the crate against the room’s far wall. “I’m not going to let you take it from me, Sheriff. I worked too hard for it.”

  “The drugs?”

  He laughed—the same shrill sound Gage had heard coming up through the tunnel. The sound sent the hairs on his neck standing on edge.

  “The drugs are just a means to an end.”

  “What did they buy?”

  “All this.” He waved one hand in the air around him. “It all belongs to me.”

  Gage moved into the room between the tunnel exit up to the manor house and the one he’d just entered. His focus never left his target, the center of Davis’ chest. “All what, Richard? What is so important you’d kill two people and turn to the drug trade?”

  “Land, Sheriff. Didn’t you know? This is my ancestral home. My ancestors were the first settlers in the area. The ones who built the town with their wealth. It never should’ve left my family’s hands. And I have it all back. All except the most important part.”

  He moved another step back toward the crate, which seemed to be pulled out from the wall. A dark shadow behind it.

  Another entrance?

  Damn. He thought he’d had all the escape routes covered. Davis had a third escape route from the room.

  Gage edged closer. “What important part?”

  “The manor house. Gil Byrd wouldn’t sell it to me, no matter what price I quoted. He just wouldn’t listen.”

  Understanding settled on Gage. “You killed Gil.”

  “He was the first. So easy. He was a crazy old coot. Living out here by himself. No one came to look for him until it was too late.” Another shrill laugh escaped him.

  “Greed? You’d kill your friends and neighbors for simple greed?”

  “Not greed. Restoration. It’s my duty to restore the power in this town that once belonged to my family. To give my family name the respect that this town stole from it.”

  Okay, sanity wasn’t Davis’ strong suit.

  “You can’t expect to get away with this. Why don’t you let me take you in, nice and easy. Maybe we can make a deal.”

  “I don’t think I’ll let you take me in, Sheriff. I’ve still got deals of my own to make.”

  With one quick movement he lifted his gun and fired in Gage’s direction.

  ***

  Muffled gunfire broke the tense, dark silence surrounding Bobby.

  Oh, God! Gage.

  With shaking hands she grabbed the walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button. “Gage! Gage!” She whispered hard into the mic, the words sounding like screaming to her own ears. “Are you okay?”

  Lifting her finger from the button she strained to hear a reply.

  Please let him answer.

  Only static met her ears.

  Please God, don’t let him be dead.

  Maybe the walkie-talkie just didn’t work underground.

  Did she try again? What if the newsman had Gage’s walkie-talkie? Would he come after her and Daniel? What if it Gage still had it but was injured? Would the noise lead Davis to him?

  Again she pressed the button, released it and listening for any sound from Gage’s end.

  Nothing.

  Off in the distance sirens sounded, growing louder as they approached. Thank God help was almost there. But were they too late?

  She closed her eyes, seeing Gage’s face once more. The intensity in his eyes when he made love to her, the patient way he spoke to the town’s elderly members, the authority with which he led his deputies. She would not believe he’d been hurt. No way.

  As the two cars pulled onto the dirt path to the barn, she crouched beside Daniel, leaving one hand on his steadily rising and falling chest. She turned on her flashlight to signal them where she was.

  Car doors opened and shut. Deke, Doc Clint and Wes all ran toward her. A bit of relief slipped into her and she stood to wave them her direction.

  Help had arrived.

/>   Chapter Sixteen

  As Davis lifted his arm to shoot, Gage rolled to the side. The bullet slammed into the ancient wooden boards behind him, at the level where his head would’ve been. Dust and wooden splinters rained down on him. He came up returning fire as Davis dived into the tunnel behind him.

  Gage scrambled over the room’s debris and plunged into the third tunnel’s darkness in pursuit.

  Suddenly a blast thundered ahead and above him, knocking him back into the hidden room. The earth shifted around him. Boards and dirt fell from the room’s rickety walls.

  His ears still ringing, Gage shook his head to stop the room from spinning. What the hell was that?

  A booby trap! The dead tweaker must’ve safeguarded the exit to the meth lab and Davis tripped it.

  Fuck!

  He half crawled, half ran back toward the tunnel he’d entered.

  Before he reached it a second explosion shook the exit leading to the manor house, slamming him to the floor once more. With a whoosh, the tunnel and exit collapsed beneath ancient timbers and tons of earth.

  Geez, the fool must’ve rigged the other tunnels to go if the lab exit blew. He had to get out of here now.

  Turning, he scrambled on his hands and knees to the remaining exit. Thick clouds of dust and earthen debris filled the room just as he reached the tunnel.

  Above him, lightning flashed, thunder sounded farther up his escape route, not quite as loud as the other two. Or maybe it sounded less powerful to his already shell-shocked ears. It still had enough force to throw him hard against the tunnel’s wall.

  Frantically, he struggled to regain his footing.

  Rocks and thick soil rained down, filling the tunnel in front of him.

  He glanced back. Aftershocks from all three explosions sent more beams crashing into the room behind him, collapsing the century-old haven completely.

  Trapped.

  Alone.

  Buried alive.

  ***

  Just as the three men neared Bobby’s position next to the still-semi-conscious Daniel, the dark night’s silence shattered beneath a thundering boom. The earth beneath them shook, sending Bobby crashing back to her knees beside the wounded deputy. The flashlight and walkie-talkie flew out of her hands.

  Gage!

  She had to reach him. In the dark she searched the ground around her for the walkie-talkie. Only slight relief filled her when her hands wrapped around the radio. She gripped it tight, praying he’d answer her this time. “Gage? Gage!”

  Static.

  “Gage, can you hear me?” Please God, answer!

  “What the hell was that?” Clint asked as he, Wes and Deke finally reached her side. He knelt beside her and immediately focused his attention on Daniel, who moaned when touched.

  That was one good sign.

  “Sounded like C4 to me,” Wes said. “Where’s Gage and Cleetus?” he asked Bobby, who still clutched the radio in both her hands.

  She struggled to stand on wobbly legs. “Gage said Cleetus was ahead and to the left of this spot. About ten yards from the tunnel entrance. He’s been shot and is unconscious, too.”

  “And Gage?” Deke asked, his stern and scarred features a mask of concern.

  She cleared her throat, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. “He’s in the tunnel.”

  Deke and Wes took off at a dead run.

  A second explosion blasted into the night. Once again Bobby fell to the ground. Her chest hurt so bad, she couldn’t drag in any air.

  “Oh, God! Oh, God! Gage…” she sobbed, unable to stop it this time.

  Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “Bobby.” Clint shook her gently. “I need your help here.”

  She lifted her blurry gaze to his, trying to focus on his face in the darkness. “Gage is still down there. He could be trapped…or…hurt…or…” she just couldn’t bring herself to say the last.

  “We don’t know that. We aren’t going to go there, either. Daniel needs our help. Focus on that. I need you to shine that flashlight on his head so I can assess how badly he’s injured. Can you do that for me?”

  Numb with fear, she could do little more than nod. She gripped the flashlight Clint pressed into her shaking hands.

  “Good. Shine it right here.” His hands on hers, he directed the light to the bloody gash on the downed deputy’s head.

  “Doc,” Wes’ voice came across the radio. “Cleetus is awake, and the pressure dressing Gage put on his wound seems to have stopped the bleeding from the gunshot. I’m bringing him to…”

  A third explosion ripped through the night.

  ***

  Just as Deke neared the tunnel’s entrance, another explosion sent him face down into the wet grass. A cloud of dust flew out of the portal. “Shit!”

  On hands and knees he scrambled over the edge and flashed a light into the debris-filled tunnel. A narrow passage let the light filter down through the dust on one side.

  “Gage?” He strained to listen for any reply. He and Gage had been friends since high school. The memory of another friend in the crumpled wreckage of a car in the dark of night begging him for help flashed through his mind.

  No. He wasn’t losing another friend. Not this time. “Gage, can you hear me?”

  “Is the sheriff down there?” Wes asked.

  Deke turned to see the deputy holding Cleetus beside him.

  “I don’t know.” He leaned into the opening once more. “Gage? Answer me, man!”

  He listened again.

  Tap-tap-tap—taptaptap—tap-tap-tap, sounded from behind the rubble. Morse code for S.O.S.

  “He’s alive!” Wes shouted next to him.

  “Gage! I hear you, man. Just hang tight!”

  He wiggled back from the tunnel’s edge on his stomach then stood.

  “We just gonna leave him down there?” Wes asked.

  “I need to get him some air down there.” The problem was the only passage looked too small for him to get down through without sending the rest of the debris down and sealing Gage inside.

  “What do we do?” Cleetus asked, leaning heavily on Wes.

  “Let’s get you over to the doc. I’ve got a couple of air tanks and rope in my truck.” He started to heft the big man’s other arm over his neck, when Cleetus pulled back.

  “Wes can get me to the doc. You get the air to Gage.”

  Deke didn’t hesitate another moment. He ran as fast as he could over the rough terrain in the dark. Past the brief light surrounding Clint, Bobby and Daniel. At his truck he pulled out two air tanks, masks, radio mics and one hundred feet of rope.

  What else? He grabbed two bottles of water from the backseat cooler he always kept on hand and the giant flashlight. Now if he could get this stuff to Gage without collapsing what little access there was. There had to be some way.

  He would not lose another friend.

  The alarms of sirens sounded from up the road. More help for the wounded. He glanced in that direction and saw several headlights following the flashing lights in the distance. Too far away to help Gage.

  He stopped briefly next to the doc where Wes had just deposited Cleetus.

  “Gage?” Bobby’s pale face and dark, worried eyes were full of questions.

  “He’s alive,” Deke said. It was all the reassurance he could afford for any of them at that moment.

  He handed Wes one of the air tanks and they jogged back over the dark terrain.

  “You think we can get him out of there?” Wes asked.

  “First we have to keep him alive, then we need to dig him out. Any chance there’s an engineer with a backhoe in the vicinity?”

  “Harold Russet’s a civil engineer and head of road maintenance. He’d be the person most likely to get us what we need. And they started the new highway build between here and Columbus at night. Maybe we could use the high-powered lights, too.”

  “Good. Call him and tell him the situation and tell him to get some equipment
out here ASAP.”

  At the entrance they dropped the supplies on the dew-covered grass. Wes took the cell phone and started hunting down Russet. Deke leaned over the edge again, shining the flashlight inside. More debris filtered into the narrowed hole. No way could he or Wes fit into the only access left.

  “Gage! I’ve got some air tanks here. Not sure how to get them down, but we will.”

  He heard more tapping. Gage still hung in there.

  “Cleetus and Daniel are okay for now.”

  More tapping.

  “You won’t fit.” Bobby’s soft voice whispered beside him.

  The stark terror in her eyes as she looked into the abyss and slight tremor in her words tore at Deke’s gut. Gage finally had a woman worthy of him and he might never know it.

  For a moment he considered their options. Wait for the backhoe and only find a dead man in the tunnel? Send the tanks down and pray they didn’t knock debris down on him and bury him further? Attempt to go himself and knowingly accomplish the burial? Or…

  “Someone has to go down there, at least far enough to get one of these tanks to him. If it’s a meth lab, the fumes could kill him.” He watched her carefully, making sure she understood what he was asking.

  “There are two tanks.” She didn’t blink, just pulled her lip between her teeth.

  “The other tank is for the person risking their life to go in there.”

  “Right now I’m the only one who’ll fit in there, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me what I have to do.”

  “I have to tell you I can’t guarantee either one of you will come out alive.”

  “Deke, you’re wasting time Gage doesn’t have.”

  Her determination moved him to action. As he helped her on with the equipment, he explained how the air tank and mask worked. He showed her how to turn the voice amplifier on to allow her and Gage to talk with the masks on. He also showed her how he could communicate with them. Next he tied the rope around her to help him control her descent into the tunnel. He didn’t tell her that he wanted to be able to haul her up at the first sign of the opening collapsing. Her fear was already a palpable thing.

  “Do you know what kind of cavern Gage is in down there?” he asked once she was ready to go down.