“He had a little accident. I called an ambulance and it’ll be here shortly.”
Pale as a sheet, she stumbled farther into the room and sat in the chair across from the deputy. Josh handed the towel to Comer. “Put some pressure on it or you’ll pass out from loss of blood.”
He took Nina by the arms and pulled her to her feet. “Listen, Nina. I need your help. Go back to the house and ask Deputy Harris to come to the barn. Tell him you need to speak to him in private.” Still in shock she looked at him as if he had two heads. He gave her a gentle shake. “Pull yourself together. Harris is on Collins’ payroll.”
She took a deep breath, steadied herself. “Where is Grant? I saw him leave.”
“He’s gone after Juan. He knows where Collins took him. Comer told him where Juan is being kept. He was also working for Collins.” He gripped her arms tighter, brought her against his chest. “Listen, Nina, we are running out of time. I need to go help Grant. Please do as I ask and go get Harris. Bring him here. Grant and Juan need my help.”
As if in a trance, she walked to the door. She stopped and looked over her shoulder and peered into his eyes still not sure what to do. “It’s okay, Nina. Do it for Juan.” He worried her nerve would falter.
She opened the door and strode across the yard and disappeared into the house. Josh peeked through one of the slats of the blinds. Seconds passed before Nina and Harris emerged. Together they strolled toward the barn. Nina smiled as she carried on a conversation with Harris. She was strong and for that Josh was thankful.
He hid behind the door, his heart beating violently. If he made a mistake, Nina could pay with her life. Grant would never forgive him for involving her in something so dangerous. The door swung open, Nina stepped over the threshold, and moved to the middle of the room, out of the way. At the last minute Harris realized it was a trap and went for his gun. The moment the gun cleared Harris’ holster, Josh stepped from behind the door and shot Harris point blank in the back of the head. Blood spewed over Nina’s face and the wall. Knowing he didn’t have time to hang around and answer any questions, he sprinted toward his motorcycle. He had just swung his leg over when FBI agents and the one remaining deputy raced out of the house guns drawn. Even though he could hear someone shouting for him to halt, he started his bike and peeled out of the drive.
Still in shock, Nina stood staring at Harris’ dead body. It was as if she was having an out of body experience and none of it was real. In reality there was not a man bleeding to death on her sofa. A dead deputy was not lying on the floor of her barn. She would wake up in a few minutes and none of this would have happened. Juan would be playing catch with Grant in the front yard.
People stormed into the barn, all of them talking at one time. She didn’t understand anything they were saying. Beth pushed through the agents and deputy, wrapping her arms around Nina. “Are you okay?” She pressed her hands to her face. “You’re so pale.” Lacy shoved her way through.
One of the FBI agents jostled Beth to the side. “What happened? Who shot these men?”
She heard every word he said but felt it better she pretended she was too distraught to answer his questions. She didn’t want to get Grant and Josh in trouble. They could explain what happened. The deputy dropped down in front of Comer. “Who shot you?”
“Grant Wilson. The man’s crazy.” He reached out a trembling hand. “Let me use your phone.”
Nina screamed, “No, he is working for Randal! Don’t let him use your phone. You need to make sure he doesn’t notify anyone.” He could tip off Randal that Grant and Josh are on their way to save Juan.
“She’s as crazy as Wilson.”
Nina looked at the faces that swam in front of her. She didn’t know who she could trust. In the end she decided not to trust any of them. She tucked her arm into Beth and Lacy’s propelling them toward the door. Before they got to the house Maria ran outside with Shadow following at her heels.
****
The Five Points Lounge was closed. Grant sat in his car and watched as several customers tried to push the doors open. One woman pressed her face against the glass and peered inside. She hit the door with her fist before she and her five friends turned and crossed the street to find another place to party for the night.
Grant looked at his watch to find it was nine o’clock. He drove around back to the alley and saw Collins’ big black SUV parked around the corner of the alley so no one would see it. He parked his car, opened the trunk, grabbed four magazines and stuffed them in his pockets. Pistol in hand, he made his way to the back door. The windows were tinted black and he couldn’t see through them. He pressed his ear to the thick, metal door but didn’t hear anyone moving inside. He turned the knob and felt relieved when it wasn’t locked. He opened the door and stepped inside. He could hear voices coming from one of the rooms. He followed the sounds of the voices to a room near the back of the building. His heart was pounding as he peered around the corner. Collins and three of his cohorts were tossing bags of marijuana into boxes. Juan was gagged and tied to a chair in the corner of the room. His eyes were wet from crying. The look of terror in his face tore at his heart strings. Grant took a deep breath and stepped into the room. “Don’t anyone move.”
All three of Collins’ men went for their weapons. Grant shot one in the chest and ordered, “Don’t even try.” They froze. “All I want is the boy. Let him go and I’ll leave.”
Without one ounce of fear on his face, Collins replied, “Sorry, he’s my ticket out of here. I would have preferred, Nina but she was too heavily guarded.”
Grant’s finger twitched, he so wanted to kill Collins. But then he was in enough trouble for shooting Comer in the leg. “Just how do you think you’re going to escape with hundreds of FBI agents looking for you? Every airstrip within a hundred miles has been shut down.”
“My private plane is parked in a hanger not far from here. Even the FBI wouldn’t dare shoot down a plane with a young hostage aboard. I will not stand by and watch my empire crumble.”
Grant glanced at the boxes of drugs. “Is that what you plan to do? Take it with you.”
“What I can. This will hold me over until I can start fresh in Mexico.”
Tired of the conversation, he aimed the pistol at one of the other men. “Untie the boy.” When he didn’t move quick enough to suit him, Grant replied, “I don’t have any qualm about shooting you also. The way I see it, one more person the taxpayers won’t have to fit the bill to lock away.”
Grant held his breath when the man took out his knife. All he had to do was hold the knife to Juan’s throat. Thankfully he cut the ropes and pulled Juan to his feet. It took a few seconds for the circulation to return to his extremities. With his free hand, Grant fished into his pocket and handed him his phone. “My car is parked in the alley. Take it to the nearest gas station and call Josh. Tell him where you are and he’ll come get you.”
Juan dropped the phone into the pocket of his jeans. He rubbed his wrists where the ropes had cut into his skin. “What about you?”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine. Now do what I said!” When he hesitated, Grant shouted, “Now, Juan, get out of here!”
He turned and ran for the door but backed into the room, his arms raised in the air. A voice from behind him caused Grant to cringe. “Drop your gun.” His mind worked frantically to think of a way out of the situation. He had been in worse. “Don’t make me ask again. Drop your weapon or I’ll kill the kid.”
In three long strides Randal Collins stood by his side. He reached out and took the pistol out of his hand. Nothing would have given him more pleasure than to shoot him, but he would not risk Juan’s life. Grant turned and glared directly into the face of Matthew Collins. “The high sheriff is guilty of growing and selling marijuana.” With a lot of heat, Grant asked, “Which one of you is responsible for Shaw’s death?”
Matthew tilted his head toward his son. “I have nothing to do with Randal’s drug activity. In fa
ct I had no idea he was growing and distributing marijuana.”
“Or the fact he had several of your deputies on his payroll?”
Matthew Collins drew in a breath. “That neither. My son has been full of surprises.” His eyes met his son’s and Grant saw the disappointment. “Still, he is my son and I will do whatever it takes to get him to a safe place where the law can’t touch him.”
“Including murder?”
His lips thinned. “Whatever it takes.”
“Your precious son didn’t even take in account that his actions would reflect on you. Your career is over. Seems he is not worthy of your support.”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “It does look like I’ll have to find another profession. No worries, I’m sure I’ll find something I enjoy.”
Grant turned toward Randal Collins. Though his stomach was jumping, he hoped to keep them talking to give Josh time to get there. The only hope he and Juan had were Josh or his Uncle Tate coming to their rescue. “Then I guess you are the one responsible for Shaw’s death?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions? I have worked for years to build and maintain a prosperous business.” His tired eyes were chilly and direct. Looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “It will take me years to rebuild what you have destroyed.” He sneered, “You will die for your part in ruining my life.” Eyes locked with his, Randal ordered, “Take him out back and kill him.”
Grant placed his hands in the air before Randal’s men laid a finger on him. “What about Juan? What is your plan for him?”
His brow creased. “I’d never hurt Juan. Nina loves him. As soon as I am safely in Mexico, I will make arrangements to have him delivered to Nina’s doorstep.” A dangerous light glinted in his eyes. “Enough talk. You understand that I must get going. I’m sure the FBI is on their way.” He grabbed Juan by the arm and jerked him to his side. “Kill him now.”
Grant stepped out the back door and into the dark shadowy alley, Collins’ goons on each side. Little light penetrated from the street lights because of the tall buildings. Both men had their pistols pressed against his back. It was so quiet he could hear his own breath catching in his throat.
“Keep moving. We don’t want anyone to hear the shot when I put a bullet in your head.” He was shoved farther back into the alley where the stench of urine and trash was strong.
The sound of a motorcycle racing into the alley caught their attention and all three simultaneously turned to be blinded by a single bright light. One of the men raised his pistol to shoot Josh. Grant knocked the pistol from his hand, lifted his knee to give him a hard blow to his stomach, and followed with a down-swinging right while he was doubled over in pain. The sound of a pistol being fired had him fearing the worst. In his mind’s eye he could see Josh as they were when they were children playing army in the backyard. Pointing their toy guns at each other and making shooting noises with their mouths. If his brother died, it would be his fault for asking for his help. He would have to tell his mother he was responsible.
He kicked out his legs sending the other man to the pavement. To keep from getting hit by the bullet meant for him, Josh leaned over and dropped his motorcycle to the pavement. The motorcycle and Josh skidded across the pavement straight for Grant and the other two men. At the last moment Grant stepped to the side before the motorcycle slammed into Collins’ cohorts. Five feet from the bike, Josh lay motionless. Grant gathered the weapons of the two men now lying unconscious and loped to his brother’s side. He rolled him over but didn’t see any bullet holes. “Josh, are you okay?”
His brother moaned and his eyes flickered open. “I think so. I don’t think I broke any bones.” Grant offered his hand and pulled his brother to his feet causing him to moan even louder. “Remind me to never try that again.” He rolled his shoulders and touched his hand to his cheek where the pavement had scraped his skin. Blood oozed from his arm where the hide had been skinned when he slid. “Where’s Juan?”
“He’s inside with Randal and Matthew Collins.” He stuffed one of the pistols into the waistband of his shorts and gripped the other tightly in his hand.
Josh pulled his pistol from his chest holster. “How many men are we up against?” He opened the saddlebags on his motorcycle and pulled out a set of handcuffs. He cuffed the two guys on the ground to the motorcycle. Neither struggled since they were both out cold.
“Four. Be careful. We don’t want Juan getting shot in the crossfire.”
Pistols in hand, they opened the door and followed the sound of the voices. Crouched low, they stopped at the door and listened. After a quick peek inside, Grant turned to his brother and whispered, “Juan is sitting in a chair to the right.” A slight nod let him know he understood. “We go on three.” He held up his hand and gestured the countdown. When his third finger went up, they stormed into the room guns blazing. The spray of a machine gun had them both ducking for cover. Shots were coming at them from all directions. They could do no more than put their hands over their heads and pray. There was a lull in the assault so both Grant and Josh stood up and returned fire. Two men went down leaving Randal and Matthew Collins the sole survivors. Before Grant could stop him, Randal crawled his way to Juan. He pressed the gun to his temple.
Desperation in his voice, Randal screamed, “Drop your weapons or I’ll kill him.”
Instead of doing as told, Grant and Josh ducked behind a long counter. “Let him go Collins. You’ll never get away.” Helping to prove his point they heard sirens in the distance. “The Calvary will be here any minute.”
In a panic to escape before the FBI arrived, Randal pulled Juan to his feet and used him as a human shield. He snaked an arm around his throat. “My daddy and I are going to walk out the door. If you come after us, I will not hesitate to kill the boy.”
The frantic look in Randal’s face caused Grant’s body to go cold with fear. Desperate men did stupid things. No one knew that better than him. The wild thud of his heart continued while he watched helplessly as Matthew Collins grabbed two boxes of marijuana and disappeared out the door with Randal following close behind with Juan, an arm wrapped around his neck as he dragged him at his side.
Grant was the first out the door to follow but had to quickly duck back inside when a bullet narrowly missed his head. The hopelessness of the situation descended upon him as he heard the sound of the back door slamming shut. With a loud war cry he jumped up and raced forward, his brother behind him. They busted through the back door in time to see Matthew Collins trying to stuff Juan into the backseat of the sheriff’s car. He was kicking and scratching for dear life. With a chop across the sheriff’s throat, the man fell to his knees gasping for breath. With all the speed he could muster, Juan dashed toward Grant. Unable to get a shot off because he feared shooting Juan, Grant watched Matthew crawl into the car still holding his throat. Randal Collins peeled out of the alley and right into the streets of Raleigh.
Juan fell into his arms as tears of joy wet the front of his shirt. “I’ll go after them.” Josh jumped into Grant’s car and backed out into the street. From where Grant sat still holding Juan, he saw deputy cars converge on Josh. Hemmed in, Josh had no other recourse but to get out of the vehicle with his hands raised in the air. Five deputies threw Josh to the ground and handcuffed him. Over all the chaos Grant could hear his Uncle Tate yelling not to shoot because Josh was working for him.
Arm draped over Juan’s shoulders, Grant pulled him along as he jogged to his uncle’s side. “Randal and Matthew Collins are getting away! He has his plane stashed somewhere close by. They’re in the sheriff’s car.”
Uncle Tate ordered his agents to give pursuit. As Grant watched the FBI and the deputies give chase, he wondered how many of the deputies were working for Randal. The man had deep pockets and there was no telling just how many men were on his payroll. He doubted they had even scraped the surface. Problem was some of the FBI agents could also be working for Collins.
Uncle Tate helped J
osh to stand and removed the handcuffs. “Where have you been? I called you a hundred times.” The words burst out in anger.
“A few of my men and I were at the marijuana site looking for any evidence to lead us to Randal Collins. There’s no service there. How did you find out he was at the Five Points Lounge?”
Josh gave Grant a direct stare. “I persuaded one of Matthew Collins’ deputies to give me his location.” Thank goodness his brother didn’t mention he had shot Comer in the leg. His uncle would be livid when he found out and he didn’t want to deal with all the yelling at the moment.
Juan touched his hand. “I want to go home.”
Grant wrapped his arm around his neck and pulled him to his chest. “You did good, Juan. You stayed calm and used your head.”
He shivered before he replied in a low intense voice, “I was scared.”
“So was I. I’m sorry you were kidnapped. All this is my fault.” He handed his phone to the boy. “Call your mom and tell her you’re okay.” With a weak smile he took the phone and stepped to the curb where he could have some privacy.
Uncle Tate’s phone rung and he flipped it open. Minutes passed as he talked with the person on the other end. He slapped it against his thigh when he completed his conversation. “Randal and Matthew Collins evaded the authorities. No one knows where they are.” Josh, I could use your help. I need you to drive me back to my office so I can make some calls. We need to set up road blocks immediately. We can’t let them get out of Raleigh. I’ll get a chopper in the air.” Again he tapped in a number and placed the phone to his ear. He placed a finger in his other ear so he could hear on the busy street. Grant listened as he gave the directions of the road Collins’ was last seen on before he gave the authorities the slip. Shadows shrouded the streets and it would be hard to find the sheriff’s car in the dark cloudy night. Randal was probably sitting in his plane at that very moment headed to Mexico.
****
Four ambulances, lights flashing were pulling into her yard by the time Nina, Beth, and Lacy stepped out onto the porch of the house. The carnage in her barn left her feeling numb. Detective Harris’ brains were splattered across her wall and blood soaked into the wood floor that her father had painstakingly installed himself. Not only was the floor ruined but the couch was also covered in blood because Grant shot a man. The trauma of having a dead detective and one bleeding profusely on her property had her trembling and weak. By sheer grit and perseverance, she crossed the threshold into the house, Beth whispering everything would be okay over and over next to her ear.
Whispers of the Falls: Book one (Twelve Oaks Farm Series 1) Page 22
