Shelter for Sharla
Page 17
“What’s going on?” Edwards asked, blinking rapidly.
“Nothing. Go home. Or go out on patrol. But stay away from the office,” Carter ordered.
“But, sheriff―”
“GO!” Carter bellowed, and the young officer grabbed his belt and his jacket and high-tailed it from the office.
Cruz wheeled on him and glared. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Yes. I’m leading you guys straight to them.”
“But you’ll be the sacrificial lamb. If we swoop down on them and you’re with them, they’ll kill you on the spot and won’t think twice.”
“But Sharla and the kids will be safe.”
“But without you! Fuck, Carter, there were so many other ways this could’ve gone! We could’ve played it dozens of ways that would’ve been safer for you!”
“But not for them.”
Cruz sat down hard on the edge of the desk and sighed. “I hope you don’t have anything you’ve left undone, because I don’t think you’ve got much time left.”
The office grew silent, and Carter sat down behind his desk. So many things he wanted to do … He’d done a lot with his dad before the elder Melton had died, but after his father’s death, Carter had started to make his own bucket list. It was pretty short too, not to mention simple. Stay on an isolated tropical island. Sit in front of the fire in a lodge in the Rockies. Throw out the ball at the opening of baseball season for one of the big teams. Those were the only ones he could think of. Well, there was one more.
Dance all night with the woman I love in my arms.
He’d thought that one had no chance of ever happening, and of all of them, that was the one that might’ve actually happened. Now it never would. Cruz was right, and he knew it―as soon as La Tana del Lupo had the information they needed, they’d kill him. But that was okay. Sharla and the kids would be safe.
That would just have to be enough.
“Yeah. Okay. See you then.” Cruz turned to Carter, who was sitting at his desk, linking paper clips together mindlessly. “They’re about three hours out. They just got the team completely assembled. Bad news. The guys from Lexington aren’t coming. But they’re sending some from Cincinnati, although they probably won’t get here in time.”
“Um-hmm.” Carter didn’t even look. Why should he? It was just a matter of time.
Cruz pulled up a chair in front of his desk and leaned in. “Buddy, give me the coordinates too. At least two of us will have them, and that will buy you some safety.”
Carter shook his head decisively. “No. No way am I endangering anybody else.”
Dropping back in his chair, Cruz let out a sigh Carter was sure was pure irritation. “You are the most determined son of a bitch I’ve ever seen.”
“Yep.” His phone rang and he glanced at the screen. Sam. “Yeah?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
Carter sat straight up in his chair. “What? What’s happened?”
“I can’t locate my guys at the school. They’re not responding by radio or phone.”
Carter was already grabbing his coat. “We’re on the way. You hear me? We’ll be there as fast as we can. Let me know if you find them.”
“What? What’s going on?” Cruz demanded.
“The guys watching the kids. Radio silence. Nobody’s seen them.” He needn’t have asked Cruz to come. The tall Texan was right on his ass all the way to the cruiser.
Lights flashing and siren blaring, Carter drove like a maniac through Cadiz and kept going at over one hundred miles an hour. He whizzed past one state resort park, through Canton, flew over the bridge there, and tore into the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area. As soon as he crossed the bridge over Kentucky Lake, Highway 68 turned, but he headed straight in on Highway 80 toward Murray, his tires barely touching the pavement. He glanced briefly over at Cruz, but the agent showed no signs of fear or anger, so he kept going. There was no choice but to slow down when he reached the junction of 80 and 641, but he made the turn on a green light and floored the cruiser for the end of the trip to the school.
Pulling up close to the faculty building, he was stunned. There were cruisers everywhere, officers everywhere, and … an ambulance. “Oh, shit. We’re too late,” he whispered.
“Let’s go.” Cruz was already out of the car and running by the time Carter closed his door.
The first person they recognized was Sam. “The kids!” Carter screamed.
“They’re fine, they’re fine. Two FBI agents from Louisville just took them to a safehouse. They’re okay.”
“Then the bus …” Carter began, pointing to the ambulance.
“Two dead officers. Found them in a breezeway between two buildings.”
Carter felt sick. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How long ago?”
“It appears it was just about the time I called you and told you we couldn’t reach them. I got nervous and decided that―” Sam stopped and turned toward one of the officers who stood beside a cruiser. “What was that transmission?”
“Shots fired at Christian County Community Hospital. Two security officers wounded and a nurse as well.” Carter could feel the blood draining from his face as the officer keyed the mic. “Christian County dispatch, this is Murray City unit seven. Could you repeat that transmission, over?”
“Murray City unit seven, this is Christian County dispatch. Shots fired at Christian County Community Hospital. Two security officers wounded, one hospital personnel wounded. Two men, average height, in masks. Hostage taken. Repeat, hostage taken. Subject left the area in a …”
“Son of a bitch,” Carter mumbled. They had Sharla. He’d promised her he’d protect her and the kids, he’d be their shelter and refuge, and he’d fucked everything up. The odds were that even if he helped them, gave them the info they wanted, they’d kill her. What do I do? he asked himself over and over. “It’s me they want. It’s me. If they’ll just―” His phone rang and Carter stared at the screen. It was a number he’d never seen before, and he knew what life he had left was about to change forever when he answered it. “Yeah?”
“Sheriff Melton?”
“Yes.”
“You know who this is.”
“I do.” Carter glanced around―he had Cruz and Sam’s full attention. “Where’s Sharla?”
“Where’s our information?”
“I have it.”
“Then give it to me.”
“Oh, no. You’ll have to turn her loose and then I’ll gladly give it to you.”
“Who else has it?”
“Nobody. Nobody but me. It’s in my head. I memorized it. No one else knows it.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
“Yes. I’m positive. I don’t want anybody else getting hurt. Take me, but turn her loose.”
“How do I know you won’t double-cross me?”
“Because I love her and I’d never do anything to jeopardize her safety―never.”
“You already have, idiot. If you can’t deliver the info to me, she’s dead.”
“You kill her and you’ll never get it, do you understand? I have to know proof-positive that she’s fine or you get nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“You drive a hard bargain for a man with very few hours left in his life.”
“I do. So what do I have to lose? Nothing. You let her go and the info is yours.”
“You will come home. You will come alone. You will tell no one where you’re going. And you will be here within the hour.”
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll let her live at least that long. The clock’s ticking, pig. Get on it.” With that, the phone went dead.
“Carter, don’t do this,” Cruz pleaded. “Please, don’t. Let us―”
“What? Grovel and posture until he kills her? No. This has to happen.” He turned and headed for the cruiser.
“Carter! Wait!” He stopped and turned as Cruz ran up to him. “Would you please do me one favor? Why?
Tell me why? Why are you doing this? Just throwing your life away?”
How could he explain? There was only one way he could think of. “All my life, there’ve been things I should’ve done, I could’ve done, and I didn’t. I’ve spent my life saying ‘if only.’ Over and over. ‘If only I’d called him one more time. If only I’d just stayed home with her on Christmas Eve. If only I’d fixed that before she fell. If only, if only’ … I can’t do that anymore, Cruz. I can’t face a tomorrow saying to myself, ‘If only I’d done what needed to be done, Sharla would be alive. The kids would be fine. Their lives would be intact.’ This is it, Cruz, where the rubber meets the road. It’s been good knowing you, buddy. Thanks for being here. I’ve gotta go.” Carter ran to the cruiser, then turned back and yelled, “DON’T FOLLOW ME!”
He tore out and headed back to Cadiz. They were waiting for him, and he couldn’t let Sharla down.
He stopped at the first drugstore he saw and picked up a bottle of pain reliever capsules plus a roll of clear packing tape, then opened the bottle and peeled away the seal. After tearing off a couple of pieces of tape, he dumped out a few of the capsules, wrapped them in the tape, trimmed it away with his pocket knife, and put them in his pocket. The idea had come to him as he was leaving the college, and he thought it just might work, at least long enough to get her out of there.
The drive to Cadiz from Murray had never seemed long, but at the moment, it seemed to stretch into eternity. What would he find when he got there? He thought about the capsules in his pocket and he knew he’d have to make the announcement early on. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work.
Darkness enveloped the house when he pulled up, and he immediately noticed something strange, and a growl escaped his throat. His truck had been moved. The sons of bitches had stolen his own truck and used it to go to the hospital to grab Sharla. Wonder what she thought when she saw that? He figured she thought he was already dead. That was okay. If she thought he was dead, she’d been compliant, and that was what he needed, for her to behave.
He parked the cruiser but left the keys in the ignition. She’d need a way to get out of there, and that would have to do. Taking off his belt, he placed it on the hood, holster on it and gun still in its leather. Right there in full view, he knelt and removed the little twenty-five millimeter Tanfoglio pistol he kept in an ankle holster. They could see what he was doing, he was sure. He laid it on the hood too, holster and all, and lifted his arms. As soon as he got near the house, he reached in his pocket and pulled out one of the capsules, then placed it in his cheek and prayed the tape held. There was no sound or movement when Carter yelled, “Let her go.”
The front door opened slowly and a face appeared. “We don’t take orders from you, cop. Get your ass up here.” Carter walked slowly toward the house, taking the steps one at a time, but when he reached the porch, he stopped. “Well? You gettin’ in here or not?”
He moved the capsule around until he held it between his teeth. As soon as he knew the man had seen it, he shoved it back into his cheek. “Thought you should see that.”
“What the fuck?”
“Cyanide. You hit me, knock me down, do anything that might cause me to rupture it, and I’m dead. The information dies with me. Understand?”
“We shoot you and it won’t matter.”
“Yeah, but you still won’t have the information.” He could see from the look on the guy’s face that he had the upper hand in that instance.
“We’ll kill her,” the greaseball announced.
“You do and I’ll bite down into it immediately. I don’t want to live without her. So that’s your choice. Choose wisely.”
“You a smart-ass son of a bitch, know that? Hey, bring her out here!” the man called into the house. Carter could hear voices, and one was a woman’s.
“Let me go, you stinky, greasy, jacked-up piece of shit!” it yelled. Yep―that was Sharla. As soon as they shoved her out the door, she screamed, “Carter!” and tried to run toward him, but one of the men held her.
“Hey, babe. I left the keys in the car. Just drive it to the station. Cruz will meet you there. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
“But the kids! They have them!”
“No. They don’t. They killed the two officers watching them to lure us to Murray so they could grab you, but Chelsea and Lionel are fine. The FBI has two agents with them right now.”
She turned and glared at the taller man. “You son of a bitch! You told me you had them!” With no hesitation, she spat right in his face and he slapped her―hard.
“Don’t hit her!” Carter screamed.
“Bitch had it coming,” the guy growled as he wiped his face. “You best go get in that car before we change our minds.”
“No! Carter, I’m staying here with you!”
“No. Go, Sharla. Go right now. Please. I beg you. Just go.”
“I can’t. I can’t leave you here with, with, with them,” she said, her voice full of molten contempt.
“You have to. There’s no other way. Go and go now. To the station. Find Cruz. He should be there. He’ll be waiting for you, or Sam. Somebody will be there. Go on.” When she started to cry, his heart broke, but he shrugged it off. “Do as I say! Do it, Sharla!”
“Okay, okay! Please, don’t make me leave you, Carter! Please, I’ll―”
“Now, Sharla!” Carter bellowed. “Go!” He waited, his back to the drive, as she walked past him, tears streaming down her face. Creaking sounds filled the air as the car door opened and closed. He heard the cruiser’s engine start, and the sound of his weapons sliding across the hood and dropping onto the ground as she backed out of the driveway made his skin crawl. In no time, she drove away and the roar of the Crown Vic’s engine dwindled into the distance. As soon as he knew she was out of sight, he cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, so what now?”
“Now you’re going to take us to the place where we find what’s ours. No tricks. No funny business. No driving us around in circles for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.” The gap-toothed henchman held up a small GPS unit, but Carter shook his head. “Nope. I’m not giving them to you, but I’ll take you there.” One of the men raised his weapon, but Carter grinned. “You shoot me, you got nothing.”
“Shoot you in the leg.”
“I’ll bite down on this capsule and I’ll be gone before you can blink.”
From the inside of the house came the sound of boots, heavy boots, and a man appeared in the doorway. “Why don’t we just admit that he’s got the upper hand, you idiots? Sheriff Melton, I presume?”
“Paolo Angelico.”
“I see my reputation has preceded me! Good! So you want to go with us, eh? I think that will be permissible. We can take your truck, no?”
“Sure. Why not? Might as well.” I won’t be needing it anyway, Carter told himself.
“Everybody in.” The crew cab wasn’t very big, and seven guys didn’t fit well. As they rolled down the road, Angelico asked without looking at Carter, “Will we need shovels?”
“From what I could tell, yes. You will.”
“Pull in up here at the big discount store and buy a couple of shovels, guys.” As soon as they were in the parking lot, two of them hopped out. They were only gone a few minutes before they returned and threw five spades into the back of the truck. As soon as they were back in, Angelico asked, “So, where are we going?”
“O’Fallon, Missouri.”
“You know the way to get there from here?” Before Carter could answer, the gang leader added, “Oh, of course you do. That’s how you found out about the money. What a shame about them. They were good guys once upon a time.”
I knew it. He had them killed, Carter’s brain hummed. They rode along in silence except for the times when Carter told them where to turn or which exit to take. When they passed through Cairo, Illinois, they stopped at the only gas station around and got out for a bathroom break, then back into the truck and on the road again.
He directed them to turn here and there until the scrap yard loomed in front of them. His guess had been right. It looked like the place had been closed down for at least fifteen years, maybe more, and he was a little surprised that the city hadn’t forced the owner to get rid of the stuff. “This is it.”
“Needle in a haystack,” Angelico mumbled.
Carter shook his head. “No. I know exactly where it is. Well, within twenty-five feet.”
“Twenty-five feet?”
“GPS coordinates aren’t that accurate. It could take a while to dig around the location and find it, but it’s there.”
“Show me,” Angelico said, prodding Carter to get out of the truck.
It was silent there, and the veteran officer couldn’t help but think how like a graveyard it was. Every one of those cars had been new at one time. They’d been somebody’s pride and joy, just like a child. But as time went by, they lost their shine. Their systems started to break down. At some point, it wasn’t worth fixing them anymore. After working as many accidents as he had, he also knew that a great many people had died in some of the vehicles left sitting right there in that scrap yard. Inside many of them bloody, battered bodies, the life gone from them, had rested until some underpaid, overworked EMT or fire department first responder had cut them from the vehicle and taken them to the morgue. It was a graveyard, a huge graveyard, and he was going to die there. Of that he was certain. He thought about the aerial view, what it had looked like. As soon as he passed the crane, still sitting there like a frozen sentinel, he stomped around a little. “Right here.”
“You sure?”
“No, I’m not sure it’s this exact spot, but it’s close enough that if you made a circle around me, it would be within that circle.”