The sound was muffled by the enormity of the room and the heavy blanket of snow outside acting as insulation.
It was persistent though.
It took a moment for Cuddyer to place it, a solid object hitting the door, loud enough to be heard but not enough to try to break free.
She was trying to signal him.
Tossing the torch down on the bench, Cuddyer shifted his gaze from the door to Jasper, nodding slightly.
“You did good,” he said, watching the simple statement pull Jasper forward, leaving him beaming with pride, just as it always did.
The pounding grew louder as he walked across the floor, wondering what had happened, what she could possibly want.
The most obvious answer was that Elias was dead, his injuries too severe, whatever vegetative state he had been in eventually claiming him. The thought caused Cuddyer’s stomach to tighten, bringing a whole slew of concerns, the largest being what to do with the girl.
Not especially wanting to deal with that at the moment, Cuddy pushed the notion aside, trying to call to mind any other reasons she could be summoning him. The last time he had seen her she was just short of unresponsive, wobbly on her feet, her eyes wide with fear.
For her to actually be reaching out meant she must need something, but what that would be he had no way of knowing until he opened the door to check.
Digging the keys from his pocket, Cuddyer stopped just outside the door and pounded on it twice with the side of his fist. He paused as the girl fell silent, raising his face toward the opening above.
“I’m going to open the door now. If you try anything, my associate and I will kill you. That means if you throw something at me, try to hit me, make a run for it, anything, we will kill you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
The answer came back faster, stronger, than Cuddyer anticipated, his eyebrows rising a bit as he opened the pad lock on the door and slid it free, clasping it in the palm of his hand, ready to slap her with it if need be.
The hinges on the door whined just slightly as he pushed it open to reveal the girl standing in the middle of the floor, both hands shoved into the front pockets of her coat. Gone was the fearful gaze from a short time earlier, taking with it the foggy look of someone still getting her bearings.
In its place was a stare just short of resolute, making him tighten his grip on the lock in his hand.
“Show me your hands.”
One at a time the girl slid them free from her coat, spreading her fingers wide for him to see.
“Keep them out,” he said, taking a step into the room and glancing about.
The table along the side wall had been pulled forward into the space, the heater positioned so it was aimed the length of the bed. The supplies sitting on top had been divided into two piles.
Elias’s body was visible on the bed, the blankets peeled back, the hem of his shirt pulled up to his neck. It did not appear that he had moved since they had placed him there, his eyes still closed.
“What do you want?” Cuddyer asked, adding a bit of a growl to his voice for effect.
The girl stared at him, her nostrils flaring ever so slightly, before stating, “I need some things.”
“And you have them,” Cuddyer said, nodding toward the table. “Use those.”
“They aren’t enough,” the girl replied. “This man is suffering from chemical burns, he’s in shock.”
Cuddyer said nothing, processing what she was saying, glancing between her and Elias.
They probably should have left him at the hospital. If not for the fact that they were under a deadline, with some truly ruthless people watching the clock, he would have. It would have been hell concocting something to explain the burns, but they would have gotten through it.
That option was gone though. He needed Elias up and moving. Work was coming along outside. He and Jasper could build the rig, but they needed Elias to actually run it, to use whatever knowledge he seemed to have to produce the best stuff around.
“I told you to fix him.”
“And I’m telling you I can’t,” the girl said, lowering her voice to match his tone. “Not with this sad little pile of crap you gave me.”
Cuddyer cast his gaze to it, the scowl deepening on his features.
“I’m a doctor. I need supplies.”
Again, shifting his eyes past her, Cuddyer focused on the exposed torso of Elias, at the gaping wounds covering his body, the slick sheen of raw skin shining under the overhead light.
“Make a list.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Bar’s closed.”
The man behind the battered wooden bar that ran most of the length of the room delivered the message without looking our way, his back turned as he counted out the evening’s take from the cash register beside him.
Ignoring the statement, Ferris and I walked straight in, snow and water dripping from us, the wooden floor beneath us echoing with every step.
“I said. . .” the man began again, looking up into the mirror lining the back wall, stopping short as he recognized Ferris. “Sorry Rake, didn’t know it was you.”
“That’s alright, Ned,” Ferris said, coming to a stop and resting his hands against the edge of the bar.
The place reminded me of a dozen others just like it I’d been in, none within the last five or six years. Consisting of a single room, it was stretched out nearly three times as long as it was wide, the bar being the most dominant feature. Much of the remaining space was filled with small square tables, two or three chairs around each one. The far wall had doors in either corner for men’s and women’s restrooms, an upright jukebox sitting between them, a small area for people to dance before it.
“Heard you had some trouble in here tonight,” Ferris said, “guy ended up over at the hospital.”
A moment passed as the man finished his count, stacking the bills up in front of him before turning. “Naw. I mean, yeah, he went to the hospital, but there wasn’t any trouble. Guy was fooling around and busted a glass, cut his hand up pretty good.”
Beside me Ferris remained silent, staring at the man. In the reflection behind the bar I could see his expression relaying that he didn’t quite believe the story, my own saying much the same.
“Seriously,” the man said, raising his hands to either side, “half a dozen folks in here saw it. Guy even paid for the glass before going to get his hand looked at.”
The man stood somewhere between Ferris and me in height, his head shaved clean. A circle beard encased his mouth, a mix of salt and pepper that was trending hard toward the former. He still wore a plain white apron around his waist, obscuring his lower body.
“Besides, how’d you hear about it?” he asked. “Things that slow in the storm you’re getting calls like that?”
From the way he asked the question, the expression on his face, it was clear he had not yet heard about Yvonne Endicott. Given the time of night, and the few people who did know, it wasn’t terribly surprising, though it did present an interesting situation for Ferris on how to proceed.
Play it vague and hope to gain something useful, or make it public knowledge and rely on shock value for information.
It seemed Ferris was having the same internal debate beside me, casting a look my way before turning back to the bartender. He extended a hand out to his side and said, “Ned, this is Mr. Hawk, a liaison from state law enforcement. Hawk, this is Ned Stanson, owner of the bar.”
“Owner, operator, bartender, bouncer, you name it,” Ned said, one corner of his mouth turning upward as he reached across and shook my hand, his grip firm and calloused.
“Good to meet you,” I said, choosing to say nothing more, allowing Ferris to steer the conversation whichever way he saw fit.
“Hawk is helping me look into the abduction of Dr. Yvonne Endicott from the hospital this evening,” Ferris said, not even waiting for us to release the handshake before jumping right in, dropping the news from nowhere.
At the soun
d of it Ned froze, his hand locked onto mine, before blinking himself alert and releasing the grip. For a moment he stared at the sheriff, his eyes a touch wider than they’d been before, his lips parting slightly.
It was something I’d seen many times, the man trying to digest what he’d just been told, not quite believing it.
“Abducted?” Ned finally managed. “You mean, as in...”
“Kidnapped,” Ferris said, “taken right off the front step of the hospital.”
“Well...I...” Ned stammered, leaning forward and resting both palms against the back of the bar. “That’s awful. Damn.”
“Did you know her?” I asked, jumping in for the first time.
“No,” Ned said, casting a glance my way before moving back to Ferris, “but I knew of her. Everybody in town did.”
“Anybody seem to have taken a special interest in her?” Ferris asked.
“Good or bad,” I added, moving a bit closer so Ned could see us both without having to ping-pong his attention back and forth.
Another moment passed as Ned remained completely still, only his eyes moving as he glanced from Ferris to me and back again.
“What? You don’t think...”
“We don’t know what to think,” Ferris said. “But we know there are only a handful of people who would be out in something like this, even fewer places they would go.”
“And we know that some of the people who would seem the most obvious for this kind of thing...” I added, my voice trailing away, allowing the insinuation to speak for itself.
The gap between Ned’s lips opened a little further as he leaned back, again raising his hands, this time to extend his palms toward both of us.
“Hey, I know what you’re trying to say, and believe me, you’re not wrong, but I don’t know anything about this,” Ned said. “Like I said, I know of the girl, but I’ve never seen her in here, never even met her.”
“We’re not saying you have,” Ferris said.
“We’re just saying you’ve probably had a good look at some of the people we should be talking to,” I finished.
Again Ned glanced between us, the look of shock falling away.
“I mean, I can give you some names, but the only people in here tonight were regulars,” Ned said. “I can vouch for pretty much every one of them. There wasn’t but a handful that came in, all of us sitting around watching hockey, shooting the breeze.
“Trust me, if somebody was planning something like that, one of us would have noticed.”
Ferris’s face tightened a little more as he glanced at me, the combination of lack of sleep and strain beginning to show.
“Okay,” I said, “maybe the person didn’t come in tonight, but the odds are still good they’ve been in here. I imagine you get quite a bit of business from the oil hands in town.”
Ned folded his arms over his chest, the right side of his mouth twisting up as he began to work at the inside of his cheek.
“I do.”
“So maybe you could make a few introductions for us,” I said. “Give us some people to talk to.”
“Yeah,” Ferris said, seeing where I was going and jumping in. “There’s no way somebody just happened to show up tonight, in a blizzard, and pulled this off. It would have had to be someone in town, meaning they’ve crossed paths with somebody around here before.”
A palpable tension passed between the two sides of the bar, the previous shock of the situation having faded from Ned, replaced by a deep-seated loyalty to his establishment and his patrons.
Standing where I was, it was almost quaint, in a misguided sort of way.
“We open in the morning at 10:00,” Ned finally said, clearly hating the words coming from his mouth, even as he said them. “Come back then, I’ll introduce you to everybody in the house. Maybe somebody will be able to help you, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mavis Azbell and Coop Baker were both sitting in the front room of the sheriff’s station as we entered. They hadn’t been waiting long, both still wearing their outdoor parkas despite the unnatural warmth of the office. Red blotches dotted their cheeks, giving the impression that blood was just starting to recirculate.
The two of them had pulled their chairs out from desks so they could face each other. Upon our entry Azbell looked as if she might stand, Baker making a point of keeping his feet crossed at the ankles and extended before him.
His attitude and the sneer on his face gave me the urge to backhand him out of the chair. He didn’t like me, that was apparent from the moment I walked into the station hours before. In truth, the feeling was mutual.
That was far from the most important thing to focus on at the moment.
“How’d it go?” Ferris asked, leaving his coat on and walking across the floor to the desk beside Azbell. He perched himself on the edge of it, one leg raised from the floor, slush dripping from his boot.
Azbell looked up and gave a tired sigh, shaking her head in response.
“It didn’t,” Baker said, his voice mirroring the posture he’d assumed on the chair. “We started by going around and knocking on any door that still had lights on inside. After that we moved on to trying to tail the tracks we saw in the snow throughout town.”
Rolling his head toward me, he added, “Once we figured out we were just following you guys around, though, we decided to call it a night, start fresh in the morning.”
“And we were almost out of gas,” Azbell added, again looking up to Ferris, the line coming out as more of an apology.
Remaining just inside the door, I leaned my back against the outer wall and folded my arms over my coat, doing my best to ignore the tone and the accusatory glare of Baker, zoning in on what he said.
“How many houses? Anybody see anything at all?”
“Don’t you think I would have said something if they did?” he responded, this time choosing not to look my way, as if that would better drive home his point.
“Deputy Azbell?” I asked, not acknowledging his comment in any way, moving straight past the man intent on turning an abduction investigation into a low-stakes pissing match.
Her mouth opened just slightly as she looked quickly to Ferris before turning her attention to me. Again she shook her head, her ponytail swinging just slightly behind her.
“No,” she said. “Two of the houses, the people inside had fallen asleep watching television with the lights still on. They hadn’t seen anything, looked like they hadn’t moved in days.
“Couple of the others, people were awake watching the storm or just sitting around. Said they’d seen headlights pass by a few times but hadn’t thought anything of it, didn’t even think to get a look at the vehicles.”
I nodded at her explanation, being very much in line with what I would have expected.
Major storms of any variety – snow, ice, rain, even wind – always drew out a few curious onlookers, those who stood in awe of nature’s power and wanted to get a firsthand look.
Under the best of circumstances, the kidnappers would have grabbed Yvonne Endicott and been gone before an alarm could have gone up. It would have been a long shot for anybody to see something useful, having no reason to believe they should be watching for anything.
“Anything else?” Ferris asked, glancing between the two of them, leaving the floor open for either to jump in.
“No,” Azbell whispered, delivering the word as if she felt guilty that they weren’t able to offer more.
“Nope,” Baker said, “just a whole lot of cold.”
Opposite me I could see Ferris tense just slightly, Baker’s attitude beginning to rub on him as well.
“Imagine being out in it in only a pair of scrubs and a lab coat,” I said.
I didn’t bother to go any further, hoping the sentence would be enough to let Baker know he could stop trying so hard to be a dick.
The words seemed to resonate, again pulling his attention over toward me. He uncrossed his ankles, drawi
ng his feet up, giving the impression that he might stand.
I felt my hands ball into fists, a slight burst of adrenaline flooding into my system, bringing with it the first real warmth I’d felt all evening.
“Why don’t you guys go on home for a while?” Ferris said, raising his voice just slightly. “Get some rest, be back here first thing in the morning.”
The words seemed to stop whatever it was Baker had been thinking as he turned to the sheriff and gave a short nod.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Azbell said, pushing herself up, the sound of her down coat rustling audible across the room. “Give me a ride home, Coop?”
Still perched on the edge of his chair, Baker cast one more glance my way before turning back to Azbell, a bit of the previous fire fleeing from his expression. “Sure, Mavis.”
At that he stood, both of them ignoring Ferris and me as they departed, exiting through the front door, disappearing into the night.
Once they were gone the room fell into complete silence, Ferris and I standing on opposite sides of it, the two chairs pulled into the center of the room the only signs that the other two had ever been there.
“You planning on going home, too?” I asked, my chin aimed toward the floor, my eyes lifted just a bit to glance over at the sheriff.
“Hell no. You?”
“Not a chance.”
Part III
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Somewhere beyond the snow, Wood Arrasco assumed, the sun was just beginning its ascent for the day. Given the time of year, daybreak should be occurring just shy of 7:00, providing the first pale glow over the countryside.
Sliding his cellphone from his back pocket, Wood thumbed the screen to life, seeing the digital readout at the top telling him it was now 20 minutes past the hour. There was still no sign of light breaking through, nothing but the continuous curtain of white blowing at a slight angle.
After his conversation with Trick the night before, Wood had remained awake for more than another hour, thinking everything through. As much as he hated the idea of sending his best man and two others out into such a frigid Hell, there was no other choice.
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