Trick shook his head, at a loss for words as he stared into the room, taking it all in.
“What?” Jasper asked, his voice still low, drawing their attention to him. Standing back at least 10 feet from the group, he kept his hands clasped before him, his gaze aimed at the floor. “Is it the girl? Did he do something to her?”
Feeling his teeth clench tight, Trick closed his eyes, raising his face toward the ceiling. “What girl?” he practically shouted.
Jasper pulled back, retreating further into himself, trying to find the strength to speak.
“Cuddy said we couldn’t take Elias to the hospital, so we’d bring the doc to him.”
Trick felt his eyes pop open, threatening to bulge from his skull.
“You’re telling me you dumb shits kidnapped a doctor?”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Meredith Shek was the first person to emerge from the operating suite. More than 12 hours had passed since our first encounter, the bags under her eyes and the wrinkles in her scrubs seeming to indicate that she was still on the same shift, having slept exactly as much as I had. She walked slowly and deliberately, exhaustion clear.
Azbell, Baker, and I all stood.
On the ride back I had used the radio mounted on Ferris’s dash to call into the station, telling them that their man was injured and to meet me at the hospital. First Azbell and then Baker had tried to get me to divulge exactly what happened over the radio, the former simply asking, the latter trying to pull rank to force me to.
Ignoring them both, I turned off the radio, driving through town as fast as the elements would allow. My thoughts were in a dozen different places, my mind trying to make sense of everything that was occurring around me, prioritizing what lay ahead.
The first step was clearly to get Ferris some medical help. I had laid down the passenger seat as far as it would go, placing his feet at the front of the floor well, the bottoms of his jeans still holding at least some of the packed snow.
He had made the trip without waking up or making a sound, but his color seemed to improve, even if just a little.
Whether that was real or wishful thinking I didn’t much know, not that it especially mattered.
Either way, he was clearly out of the game, and I still had work to do.
There was no way I was going to leave Yvonne to herself, one woman against at least three men, who knew how many more on the way. Ferris knew the area better than anyone, he trusted me, plus he had a vested interest in finding her.
At one point he had even mentioned deputizing me, though how much all that held sway should he slip into a coma, there was no way of knowing.
If the previous day had taught me anything, it was that there was no way Baker would want me anywhere near the investigation.
Both of the deputies had been waiting when I arrived, swinging up within just a couple feet of the front door. They had called ahead and prepped the doctors that Ferris was on his way in, enabling them to have him out of the truck and inside within minutes, disappearing behind the swinging doors into the operating suite.
That had been 45 minutes earlier.
Twice in the ensuing time I had recounted the story, once for Azbell, a second time for Baker as he tried to pick it apart, more than once insinuating that somehow I had had something to do with what happened.
Each time he did I wanted to snap back that if I had, I would have left the old man in the snow to die instead of spending time to get him help, would have pointed out that it was my blood crusted to my chin from when I pulled him away from the blast.
Still I managed to swallow the words, knowing it would only agitate the situation. He was trying to take over a case that he knew nothing about.
That wasn’t going to happen. If I was to have any chance at slipping away, I needed his guard down.
By the time Shek arrived, all conversation had died away, and most of the hostility.
“Well,” she said, “the sheriff was extremely lucky. Most of the wounds he sustained in the blast were superficial, tearing up the skin and some of the muscle, but not hitting anything vital.”
A strained smile crossed her face as she added, “With a little time, and if we can keep him pinned down long enough, he should make a full recovery.”
An audible sigh passed from Azbell as she raised both hands to her chest and looked at Baker, whose only response was to again glare at me.
“Mr. Hawk,” Shek said, addressing me directly, “that was some good work with the snow. Kept bleeding down, prevented too much burn damage from the metal.”
Every bit of me wanted to turn and match Baker’s glare, even more to ball my hand into a fist and drive it like a piston through his nose, but I merely nodded in acceptance of the praise, saying nothing.
“He’s also awake,” Shek said, “and is asking to see you.”
In unison Azbell and Baker both took a step forward, only to be stopped by Shek, a hand outstretched in their direction.
“Actually, just him,” she said, pausing long enough to ensure her message was received before motioning for me to follow her on back.
Again, I wanted to smart off to Baker, to flip him the bird at the very least, but I forced myself to stay even, to swallow my animosity for the man, to focus on what was important.
If Ferris was asking to see me, it meant he was still in the game, even if he was confined to bed for a while.
Hopefully it also meant he was yielding control of the investigation to me.
Shek led me through the deserted halls, as still as they had been on my previous trip. The only difference I could see was that all the overhead lights had been flipped on, making it almost too bright as we walked on.
“He’s still very weak,” Shek said, her voice low as she slowed before stopping just outside a small recovery room, “so try to keep it brief, don’t let him get too worked up.”
Now that I knew he was okay, brief was the most important thing running through my mind.
As for his getting worked up or not, I could promise nothing.
Nodding in understanding, I passed through the doorway to find Ferris propped up in a patient bed, his frontier lawman attire having been cast aside for a hospital gown. Several heavy blankets covered his body from his knees to his chest, the bottom half of his legs resting atop the sheets, encased in a thick swath of gauze. An IV line was attached to his arm, a bag of some indeterminate solution hanging from a silver pole beside him.
Otherwise, there was only a single chair alongside the bed, the rest of the room barren.
The idea of sitting didn’t even cross my mind as I took up a post beside the bed, my hands in the front pockets of my jeans.
“Nurse said you’re going to be alright,” I opened. “That’s good news.”
“Bah,” Ferris said, raising his hand just slightly, attempting to wave me off but stopping short, the effort too much. “They tell me you saved my bacon.”
While it was true I had, there was no need to belabor the point at the moment. We both had something far more important that needed finishing before we got together around the campfire to swap remember when’s.
His expression hardened, the flinty veneer I had seen for the previous 18 hours pushing past the pain and his current situation.
“Why do they call you Hawk?”
I had expected a great many things when Shek told me he wanted to speak to me, none of them concerning the etymology of my name. I made no effort to hide my surprise as my eyebrows rose, very much aware of the dwindling timeframe we were on.
“My pop was a big Jeremiah Johnson fan,” I said. “My full name is Jeremiah Hawkens Tate.”
Lifting his head an inch from the bed, Ferris rolled his face to stare at me. “No shit?”
“No shit,” I said, having no idea why we were having this conversation, anxious to get back to work.
“First movie I ever saw in a theater,” he said. “Played right down the street. Everybody in town liked it so much, they kep
t it here for more than three months.”
Forcing a half smile, I nodded, bouncing on the balls of my feet, letting him see I was aching to be moving again.
“I was hoping you’d tell me it came from some badass story about your time with the DEA,” Ferris said, letting his head fall back into place, “but I reckon that will do.”
I had just saved his life, was still wearing my own blood, and knew he was fully aware of what had taken place at my cabin six weeks before.
For the time being, that would have to be badass enough.
“You know I’m going after her.”
“Why?” Ferris asked, his head still reclined, only his eyes shifting to look at me. “When I came to see you, I wasn’t actually expecting you to come along for the ride. I just knew if you were half as good as the story I’d heard, I needed you to make sure Yvonne got home.”
Again he attempted to raise his hand, giving up and simply flicking his fingers toward the door.
“Hell, you’ve see what I’ve got to work with out there. Mavis is a follower and Coop’s so worried about gunning for my job this fall that so far all they’ve done is make one lap around town and sit in the station house.”
More than once I had had that same exact thought, repeating it each time Baker glowered in my direction, but had said nothing.
At least it now made sense why he hated me so much. Ferris working with an outsider to solve the biggest case to hit town probably ever would not only solidify his job for life, it would display a distinct lack of faith in his deputy’s abilities.
“But you did come,” Ferris said. “Less than hour, there you were, haven’t left since.”
He paused, his face trembling just slightly, before the last thing on earth I expected to happen, did.
A single tear rolled out from the corner of his eye, streaking down over his face.
In that moment, it all became clear to me. How Yvonne Endicott had discovered her father was ill. Why she had decided to leave a promising post in Georgia to come to Glasgow. The pained expression Ferris had been wearing most of the day.
“You called her,” I said.
Pressing his eyes shut tight, another tear leaked down as Ferris nodded.
“I tried to help Mike as much as I could, but I’m no doctor. He never married, never even dated after the thing with Yvonne’s mother. There was nobody else, so I called and asked for her help.
“Being the young woman that she is, she came right up, no questions asked.”
“And now you feel responsible,” I said.
“I am responsible,” Ferris said, opening his eyes, fixing his gaze on me. “And now I’m about to hand that responsibility to you, so I need to know why.
“Why were you so compelled to help when you had no good Goddamn reason to do so?”
Part IV
Chapter Forty-Nine
All organizational activities had been called off under the guise of letting everybody stay inside through the storm. Under normal circumstances it wouldn’t have mattered, everybody gathering at the traditional watering hole anyway, riding it out while shooting pool and drinking copious amounts of beer.
As much as the men enjoyed riding, they were also aware that the Dakotas and Montana just weren’t suitable for it a good chunk of the year. To get around that, The Dogs had built the infrastructure to keep them occupied, the recent influx of cash from their arrangement with the Bakken giving most of the men even more time to hang out, watch ballgames, wager on anything they could think of, and wait for the weather to break so they could get outside again.
The amount of apathy that was beginning to set in six months into the winter was something Wood Arrasco was growing concerned with, something he would have to address before winter came around again. Most years the majority of the men held down jobs through the winter months, taking whatever they made to subsidize the remainder of the year spent out on the road.
Now that a major source of income had materialized most had foregone working, spending more and more time huddled around the bar, their growing waistlines and increasing lethargy becoming noticeable.
As much as it bothered Wood, for the time being it would have to wait.
Avoiding returning home just yet, having to explain to Maria what was going on, trying in vain to hide his concern, he remained at his office. For a group the size of The Dogs there was always something that needed to be done, a series of menial tasks that kept his mind just busy enough to place the situation in Glasgow on the back burner, always there, lurking beneath the surface, without dominating his every thought.
When the phone rang at half past 5:00 in the afternoon, Wood shoved aside the paperwork he was completing without a second thought, leaving it stacked in the middle of his desk and rising to his feet. His heart rate spiked, a tremor passing through his stomach as he took up the phone and returned to his post by the window.
Despite the early hour, nightfall was already well under way, the sky dark. What light did exist was cast through the window by the desk lamp behind him, his own shadow stretched out on the ground.
“Yeah?”
“Prez,” Trick said. Wood knew in his gut that things were just as bad as he had feared.
“I’m listening.”
A moment passed before a sigh was heard over the line, bringing with it a realization
Trick was trying to figure out how to best word what he had to say.
Feeling his grip tighten on the phone, Wood fought the urge to demand that Trick get on with it, knowing his lieutenant would proceed when he was ready.
“It’s bad,” Trick finally said, a touch of resignation in his voice.
“Worse than last time?” Wood asked, remembering their previous conversation, right after Trick had found Jasper alongside the road.
“Much,” Trick said, not a moment of hesitation. “We just got to the secondary location, arrived to find the damn door standing wide open, all the lights on.”
Making his free hand into a fist, Wood held it directly out in front of him, wishing he had something, anything, to bury it into.
“Fools,” he said, the word passing through his gritted teeth. “Are they trying to be spotted?”
“That’s just the start of it,” Trick said. “We pulled in to find Elias circling the drain and Cuddyer flat on the floor, damn near dead himself.”
Releasing the fist, Wood let his hand fall to his side.
“Cuddyer was sampling the product, too?”
“No,” Trick said, “not an overdose, he was electrocuted.”
There was no stopping Wood’s jaw as it dropped, his chest tightening.
Trick paused to let that sink in before he continued, “That’s not all. The idiots also kidnapped a doctor to try and treat Elias. That’s who electrocuted Cuddyer.”
Wood had no response, the words eluding him, his mind unable to fully comprehend what he’d just been told.
“And now she’s gone?” he eventually asked, already knowing the answer.
A moment of silence passed before Trick said, “I’ll send Mac out on a snowmobile to find her. In this weather, it shouldn’t take long.”
Wood shook his head. Already this situation was pushing itself past the limit, no amount of product being worth what Cuddyer and his crew were putting them through, regardless of quality.
“And the lab?” Wood asked.
“Getting there,” Trick said. “Barnham is on it, has Jasper helping wherever he can, but let’s be honest, the man is basically worthless.”
Wood nodded in agreement, his jaw set.
“I’m going to go back and try to revive Cuddyer, see if I can’t get him up, get this thing running shortly.”
“How long until it’s ready to go?” Wood asked.
“I don’t know,” Trick replied. “They were coming along pretty well before Cuddyer got his ass lit up. Barnham seems to think an hour or two.”
“And how much we talking in raw materials?”
“Enou
gh,” Trick said, leaving his explanation to just a single word, both sides knowing exactly what he meant.
Standing there, staring out at the snow, Wood raised a hand to his brow. He kneaded it with his thumb and forefinger, pressing down hard, trying to massage away the pain that had settled just behind his eyes.
His first inclination, damned near every inclination in fact, was to tell Trick to just pack up the raw materials, dispense with Cuddyer’s crew and head back. Once they returned, he would deliver it all to Chance, have him take over the lion’s share of the production.
It would be a downtick in quality for sure, but he highly doubted demand would suffer in the slightest. They had a captive economy with the oil fields, a huge consumer base of low-class individuals with plenty of cash and nothing resembling a major city within hundreds of miles.
If the difference between the two products was even noticed, he doubted it would do much to affect sales, offering the added benefit of being close to his customers.
Still, for whatever reason, he couldn’t quite pull the plug on things in Glasgow just yet. They had invested in creating a lab and a backup, were just an hour away from being able to knock out what was needed to keep their supply chain moving for the time being.
As much as he despised Cuddyer for the situation he was in, he couldn’t do anything rash, not just yet anyway.
“Do what you can,” Wood said, “make as much as you can carry, and then get the hell out of there.”
“You got it,” Trick replied. “And the crew?”
“Make an example of them.”
Chapter Fifty
Rake Ferris was only 50 percent right.
He was correct that the responsibility for Yvonne Endicott now fell to me. The fact that I had never met the girl, likely never would have if not for this situation, was irrelevant.
She was a young woman, a physician, who had done nothing wrong. In fact, she had found herself in this position because she had done things right. She had picked up the phone when her estranged uncle called, had listened as he explained the situation with her father.
Fire and Ice: A Thriller (A Hawk Tate Novel Book 3) Page 19
