It filled Matt with cold, deadly rage. But it was an emotion he could control, because he needed every shred of his training and quick thinking to handle this. It was time to go above McAllister’s head if he could do it without stepping on the toes of McAllister’s friends. So he had to know who those friends were.
Other thoughts occurred to him, triggered by the conversation he had just heard. A year ago, McAllister could have found out ahead of time when a high-risk warrant was going to be served, keeping SWAT busy. He could have let his boss, Scratchy Voice, know. The boss man could have set the wheels in motion for the Crestmoor State Bank robbery. Scott had responded because he was in the area, but had no backup. McAllister must have used the opportunity to get Scott out of the way for knowing too much.
Matt checked the cabin again to make sure it was secure, and when the thin grayness of dawn began to creep over the mountains, he opened the cases that held his SWAT equipment. His mind was clear now, and he made coffee so Tracy could have some when she woke up. His chest tightened with the desire to hold her, but he knew with certainty that if he ever wanted to hold her safely again, he had to win this day.
When she began to move, he went to her, stretched across the bed so that she’d see him when she opened her eyes. She smiled at him, and when he saw her come awake, he touched her face. Her eyes widened, and then she turned her face into his hand and kissed it. He felt a tremor rock him and had to hold himself steady. Then she started to sit up and glanced toward the bedroom.
He took her in his arms and whispered in her ear. “Jennifer’s still asleep. I checked on her a few minutes ago.”
Tracy sank into him then, and he heard her deep sigh. They held each other for a few seconds.
“Hmm,” he murmured, his head beside hers. “Much as I’d like to crawl back in between the sheets, we’ve got work to do.”
She responded to his serious tone and sat up, holding the sheet in front of her, making his hands want to pull it down. But the questioning look in her eyes made him concentrate on business.
“I monitored a call to McAllister,” he said. “I want you to listen to the tape. Then I need to take it to the lab to get a voice print made.”
He hated the lines of anxiety that crossed Tracy’s face. But when she turned aside to find her underwear, he moved to the listening post while he still had presence of mind.
After she’d slid into shorts and a T-shirt, she took a seat in the chair and placed the earphones over her head. “Ready,” she said.
As soon as he began replaying the phone call, Tracy widened her eyes and nodded. “That’s him,” she whispered.
He let her listen to the end before rewinding. Then he popped the cassette tape out and stuck it in the pocket of his T-shirt.
“I’ll take you and Jennifer into town. You’ll be safe enough in the crowds there. Just stay in public view while I get this to the lab. I have a friend who owes me a favor.”
“I’ll get us ready.”
Tracy poured herself a cup of bracing coffee and then disappeared into the bedroom to get Jennifer up. Matt’s pager beeped and he checked the display. Roland. He knew his friend wouldn’t bother him unless it was important. He couldn’t risk using his cell phone now, so he’d have to wait until he dropped Tracy and Jennifer off in town.
A half hour later, Matt, Tracy and Jennifer pulled into the public parking area in the village of Estes Park. Next to them was the river, which coursed through town behind the shops. The water from mountain runoff was high enough that the big water wheel was cranking full speed. Tracy had explained to Jennifer that while Matt took care of business, they would get to eat breakfast and shop in the gift shops that lined Elkhorn Avenue.
As soon as Tracy and Jennifer had placed their breakfast order at the Grubsteak Restaurant, Matt used the public telephone.
“Roland,” he said when his friend answered. “Matt. What’s up?”
“Bad luck,” Roland drawled. “Division chief wants to see you. Udal told him you were on vacation, but it doesn’t matter. Chief Bartola says he wants you now. He’s at his weekend place in Allenspark.”
Matt shifted the phone and snagged a pencil from the bar next to the phone. “Shoot.”
He wrote down the address, then cursed his luck. Before he hung up he asked Roland to track down Percy Ferrens, and tell him he needed a special favor today at the lab. Matt would contact him after he stopped to see Bartola in Allenspark. He also let Roland know where he was keeping Tracy and Jennifer. Some instinct told him that before this day was through, he might need backup.
That machinery turning, Matt hustled out of town on Highway 7, headed for Allenspark. He considered dropping the tape off at the lab first, but Allenspark was on the way to Denver. He hoped he could enlist the chief’s help in what he was doing, but Chief Bartola wasn’t exactly an ally. Matt had always had the feeling that Commander Udal had to walk a tightrope to get what he wanted for SWAT.
The stunning mountain scenery along Highway 7 made him wish Tracy were with him. But he didn’t know what he was getting into. She was better off in public view in town. Craggy Longs Peak towered above him with snow in its crevices. He slowed and turned into a restaurant parking lot in Allenspark to ask directions. Bartola’s house was up a mountain road another mile.
Caution made Matt pass Bartola’s mailbox and climb on up the road to a turnaround. He left the car in the shade of some aspens and walked back down. The house sat below the road. When he heard a car on the driveway, he stepped into the trees to see whose wheels were spinning up Bartola’s gravel driveway.
A Subaru station wagon crested the driveway and paused before turning into the road. Matt’s blood pulsed when he saw the stocky driver turn his head to check for cars on the road. Out of uniform, Captain Brad McAllister glanced both ways, then stepped on his gas pedal to cruise into the curving road.
McAllister socializing with the division chief? Or was it something else? The timing made Matt glad he was being cautious. And glad he’d locked the cassette tape safely in the glove compartment of the Blazer.
By the time he rang Bartola’s doorbell, he had himself composed. The chief himself opened the door, glanced outside and let him in.
“I don’t see a car,” commented Bartola. His thin smile didn’t fool Matt, who decided his boss’s boss didn’t deserve any more information than he needed to give.
“Hiked up the hill,” said Matt. “Needed the exercise.”
He stepped down into a Southwestern-style living room decorated in natural wood. As he’d suspected, wide glass windows from the dining room opened onto a view of a small lake below.
“Nice place here,” commented Matt.
“Thank you.”
Chief Bartola was a big man with slightly thinning hair. Matt imagined he’d been quite a tough character in his earlier days. He was a career man with an unbroken record of service. Now Matt wondered about that service.
“What did you want to see me about, sir?”
Instead of answering the question, Bartola offered refreshments. “Coffee? Soda? Something stronger?”
Evidently someone had stocked the wet bar, and the smell of fresh coffee blended with the piney scent of the room. Matt declined the offer.
Bartola settled himself on the Navajo-patterned sofa and waited until Matt sat down in the matching easy chair opposite. A multicolored braid rug separated them.
“I was wondering if there was something you wanted to tell me,” said Bartola.
“How’s that?” asked Matt, keeping a look of innocence on his face.
“Come, come, Forrest. I know your commander just gave you some time off.”
“Anything wrong with that?”
“No. I just hope you use it well.”
Matt studied the sharp features of the man opposite him. The man wasn’t stupid.
“I didn’t know you’d be so interested in what I do on my vacation,” said Matt, lifting an eyebrow just slightly.
“It�
�s more what you were doing before the vacation that has me concerned.”
“Oh, really? Commander Udal didn’t mention it.”
“Maybe that’s because I didn’t mention it to him.”
“Why not, sir? I thought you had to go through channels.”
“The same could be said of you, Lieutenant. Why were you asking about Scott Meyer at a liquor store on Colfax Avenue the other night and at a bowling alley on Leetsdale?”
Who told him? Matt wondered, clenching his teeth. He sighed, gathering his thoughts.
“It’s Mrs. Meyer, sir,” he said. “It’s no secret I’ve been seeing her. I was a friend of the family before her husband’s unfortunate demise a year ago. She had some questions, and I was just trying to put her mind at ease.”
“What questions? Has she come up with new evidence in her husband’s case?”
The question sounded so sincere, and the way Bartola frowned made Matt almost blurt out the truth. Only years of caution and training made him hold back. He had to know what Bartola had been doing with McAllister first.
“It’s just that she’s never been satisfied that the whole SWAT squad was engaged elsewhere when that bank robbery that killed Scott took place.”
Was it Matt’s imagination or was there a flicker of resentment in Bartola’s watchful blue eyes? But then the ripple of whatever it was he’d seen on the chiefs face settled into wary compassion.
“I can understand Mrs. Meyer’s concern, even after the elapsed time.”
“I’m not accusing anyone,” Matt said. “I think Mrs. Meyer just questions why so many of the SWAT team were training that day, while the rest were delivering a high-risk warrant”
Bartola smiled as if he were reassuring a child. “That was unfortunate. I believe the deployment of the SWAT team has changed since then. Your commander keeps a number of men on call in town now, doesn’t he?”
“He does.” Matt’s mood darkened. He was tired of this game. Time to spring the trap.
“I didn’t know Captain McAllister had a cabin up here,” he said without warning.
Bartola’s face froze in surprise. But he quickly recovered. He gestured broadly toward the stands of aspens out his front window.
“I thought you might pass him on the road. You say you left your car at the restaurant?”
“I didn’t say.” So who had called the chief from the restaurant to warn him that a visitor was on his way?
Bartola watched Matt watching him. The slack jaw loosened to form a pleasant mask. “As a matter of fact, Captain McAllister had some reports to turn over to me, and I asked him to bring them here since my wife and I won’t be returning to Denver until after next week.”
“I see.” He let it go at that.
Bartola swooped in for the kill. His mask sharpened into a predatory look. His eyes narrowed, and a muscle twitched on the top of his left cheekbone.
“Don’t get carried away, Forrest. If you have anything to report, use proper channels. And whatever you’re doing, forget about dragging Roland Baker into it. He tells a good story about intruders trying to break into his rental property. But witnesses saw you drive away with Mrs. Meyer in tow. Consider this a warning. If you have any grievances, go through channels. Or else you may find yourself transferred off SWAT. You know we only allow the most stable men on SWAT. It’s too risky otherwise.”
Too risky for whom? Matt felt the throb of anger in the set of his jaw and the clench of his hands on the nubby upholstery of his chair. But he was wasting his time. If Bartola were playing good ole boy to McAllister, then let him. He had things to do.
He sprang to his feet, his back ramrod stiff, and looked out the window over Bartola’s head.
“Yes, sir,” he said, jaw thrust forward. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was easy to entertain Jennifer all morning, wandering in and out of the artisans’ shops along Elkhorn Avenue. An old church had been converted into a gallery of gift shops, restaurants and a place to get old-time photos taken. When Jennifer got tired, they stopped to watch the glassblower. Jennifer was enthralled with the colorful shapes spun on the end of the long metal tube.
It was while they were sitting on the raised benches in front of the glassblower’s screened-in studio that Tracy became aware of a man who had taken a seat outside the shop. There was something familiar about his curly-brimmed cowboy hat and the silver snaps on his black shirt. She tried to control her jitters as she glanced at him out the shop’s side windows. When some leggy teenage girls walked by in a huddle, he grinned at them, revealing a gold tooth.
Her body tensed as she faced the hot ovens into which the glassblower thrust his work. But when she looked out the window again, the man was still there. She’d seen him in the Old Church shops, too. Was this coincidence? Or was he following them? Her mind flashed back to Elitch Gardens and the man who’d broken off from those coming off the roller coaster just before she’d been assaulted. Was that where she’d seen him?
She realized her mistake now. She’d wanted Jennifer to sit and rest where she could be entertained by the glassblower. But this shop was at the end of the shopping district. Across the street, a rock wall ran the length of road out of town. To get back to the main shopping area, they would have to recross a parking lot and then the bridge beside the water wheel.
Stay calm, she told herself. There were only a few customers in the store. A clerk worked on displays behind the counter. Nothing was going to happen in broad daylight.
But she couldn’t help the suffocating feeling that closed in on her. Slipping off the bench, she stepped over the other way, pretending to examine the delicate glass bowls and vases balanced on shelves brightly lit by windows on three sides.
She spotted a second stranger on the sidewalk in front of the shop. He was dressed in golf shirt and khakis with sunglasses covering his face. His purple-and-silver baseball jacket seemed out of season for such a hot day. Why was he standing there as if he was waiting for someone? He ran a hand through slicked-back black hair and walked over to lean against a post.
Tracy moved back to where Jennifer was sitting and scooted up beside her on the bench.
“We need to go, Jenn. I don’t want to frighten you, honey, but I don’t like the looks of a couple of men outside. I want us to walk very quickly along the sidewalk back to the shops. You sit here while I make a purchase.”
“Okay.” Jennifer straightened as if realizing the importance of what Tracy had said.
The glassblower finished his vase and tapped it off the long pole. He spoke to them through the screen.
“Are you in some kind of trouble, ma’am?” he asked, having overheard their conversation.
She looked up at him through the screen. “I’m not sure. There are some men loitering outside. I just wanted to take my stepdaughter back to town to avoid any trouble.”
“You wait right there,” said the glassblower. “I’m stopping now for lunch. I’ll walk with you.”
“Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”
Tracy quickly purchased a glass dish, then slung her purse strap over her shoulder, holding the package by the plastic handles. If she needed a weapon suddenly, she would break the glass.
Then she helped Jennifer down, took her by the hand and waited for the glassblower. When he emerged, they walked out into the sunlight, passed the men outside and walked briskly across the parking lot. She didn’t look back until they’d crossed the bridge. Once past the water wheel, the glassblower left them.
“Thank you,” she called after him as he darted up some wooden steps. He gave them a wave.
“No problem.”
She risked a glance backward and shivered when she saw the first man walking over the bridge. He seemed in no hurry and paused to lean out over the tumbling water to watch the water wheel. Just the way someone would who was following and didn’t want to draw attention. They needed to get away quickly.
“This way, Jennifer,�
�� Tracy said. She conveyed some urgency, but not enough to frighten her.
Once inside the Old Church shops, it shouldn’t be hard to evade pursuers. The galleries twisted above each other, and they hurried up a set of stairs. Tracy had to slow her pace to accommodate Jennifer’s, and at the top, they darted into an antiques shop. The owner greeted them and then engaged Jennifer in conversation.
“I have a wooden horse like that,” said Jennifer, pointing to a large painted carving.
“Do you?” The older woman came over to visit with Jennifer.
While they chattered, Tracy glanced out the front window down to the street. Both suspicious men were making their way through the crowds on opposite sides of the street. Though they didn’t look at each other, a sixth sense told her they were working as a team. Had they seen where she and Jennifer had gone?
She interrupted the woman’s conversation. “Is there a back way out of here?” she asked.
The saleswoman didn’t seem all that surprised. “Why yes. If you go out that way, you’ll come to an exit. It takes you down outside.”
“Thank you. If some men come looking for us, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say we were here.”
The woman gave her a look of total support. “Don’t you worry. I’ll send them the other way.”
“Thanks.”
They sped along to the next set of stairs and down, then out through a restaurant. Turning quickly into an alley, Tracy had no chance to check if either man had seen them. A narrow passage ran behind the next building, and she led Jennifer in the next door she found. They were in a long covered corridor with stuccoed wall on one side. Turning into the next entrance she came to, they found themselves in the sandwich shop.
His To Protect Page 19
