37

by David Achord

  “Dang it,” I muttered and felt around until I found it. As I suspected, the water killed it, so now I was in the dark with an injured woman and a dead gypsy.

  I started to settle back and wait, but I knew I needed to search for little Amber. If she was under water, she was most certainly dead. Even so, her body needed to be recovered. I had no desire to do what I was about to do. The only way I was going to be able to search the floor area of the front was to work myself into an uncomfortable and distasteful position. I did not see any other way.

  So, working myself in between the two front seats, I stuck my upper torso under the water and began searching with my hands. It took more than a few minutes and I had to come up for air several times before I was satisfied little Amber was not inside the truck. It did not take long before I was frigid. I worked my way back to Lorilee.

  “Don’t worry, help is on the way. They’ll be here any minute.” When I said it, I was mentally wondering where they were. I could not even hear the approach of any sirens. I didn’t know if she could hear me, but I kept talking anyway.

  Suddenly, the truck shifted and sank further down into the river, jolting me and causing Lorilee to moan again. I pulled a Bic lighter out of my pocket, and sure enough, I got a flame on the second strike. Damn good lighters, those Bics. The water was now up to her chin. I shouted her name again, and when there was no reaction, I tried for a moderate slap to the face. Even that didn’t work. Within seconds, the water was caressing her lips. I tried holding her head up, but I knew I had to get her out of there or else she was going to drown. I put my mouth close to her ear.

  “Lorilee, I’m going to have to pull you out. It might be a little uncomfortable, but it has to be done.”

  As soon as I said it, I felt the truck move again. I gave a quick, silent prayer. She was wedged in tight. I was trying to be gentle, but the rising water increased my sense of urgency. Gentleness changed to brute muscle. I pulled on her with all my strength. She cried out in pain, but there was nothing I could do.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  There was no way to do it easy. I got her in a bear hug, chastised myself for thinking of her big breasts, and hefted her up. Once I had her worked loose, the water actually helped me with buoyancy. The lessened weight allowed me to push her through the broken rear window. Her arm scraped against the little shards of broken glass still stuck in the rubber edging around the window frame. It caused another whimper, which caused me to apologize again. The bed of the truck was now mostly full of muddy river water and when I pushed Lorilee through the window, her head went under. I cursed myself as I quickly reached through and pulled her up.

  The truck shifted again and the strong current began pushing the truck down river. I fought my way out of the window and found my footing. The truck broke free of the embankment and began sinking to the bottom. I did not know how deep the Red River was around these parts, but I knew I had to get both of us to the safety of the bank or we were both going to drown.

  Lorilee was dead weight, and she wasn’t a small girl. Kicking my shoes off, I began desperately trying to flutter kick to keep both of our heads above water. Even so, the weight of Lorilee and my clothing bogged me down. I went under once, and then a second time. I wasn’t going to make it unless I let go of her, but for some crazy reason, my brain was telling me that was not an option.

  I went under again and I simply did not have the strength to fight back to the surface. My lungs were burning and my vision was nothing but blinking stars. Suddenly, I bumped against something. Something hard. I instinctively reached out. I couldn’t see shit, but it felt like a fallen tree. I grabbed blindly and latched onto something, a stub of a branch maybe. I grabbed it as tightly as I could and pulled while getting my feet against it. It seemed like an eternity, but I suddenly broke the surface and found air. I gasped and coughed, fighting for breath. Lorilee, who I was holding tightly with my left arm, began coughing too. It was a good sign.

  “Thank you, Lord,” I croaked between gasps.

  I forced myself to calm down, take deep breaths, and look around. It was indeed a fallen tree I was hanging onto. The current of the water was strong, but it was pushing us against the tree rather than pulling us away from it. That was the good news. The bad news was, I was so cold my teeth were chattering and I was too fatigued to work my way over to the riverbank. Lorilee was worse. I tried shouting to her, but she was still incoherent.

  I desperately looked around for help. I saw nothing but trees and undergrowth along the bank. I tried shouting for Hope, but there was no response. Lorilee’s head lolled onto my shoulder. For all I knew she was dead by now, but there was no way I was going to let go of her.

  I knew I had to get both of us out of the frigid water. Summoning what little strength I had, I began working my way along the fallen tree toward the embankment.

  It seemed to take forever, but I finally got us mostly out of the water. I was scraped up and utterly exhausted, but I never let go of Lorilee. She was as limp as a ragdoll and I knew if there was any hope for her at all, I needed to get her up to the interstate, but I was so exhausted I did not have it in me to even stand up and yell for help.

  “Thomas!”

  I heard my name several times before I realized someone was yelling at me. Looking up, I saw a woman standing up on the side of the hill.

  “Simone?” I mumbled through chattering teeth. Only it wasn’t Simone. It was Hope, and it looked like she had a dozen fire and police personnel with her.

  Chapter 33

  I sat on the guardrail and watched Lorilee being placed into an ambulance. The sun had gone down sometime during all of this, and there were so many flashing lights it looked like a rave party. One of the firemen had not bothered to argue with me when I refused to go to the hospital. Instead, he graciously offered one of those silvery space blankets and a cup of coffee he poured from his thermos. I was shaking so bad at first, I spilled more down my chin than I got in my mouth, but eventually, I began warming up.

  “You really should go to the ER and get checked out,” Hope suggested.

  I shook my head. “I’m okay, just a few scrapes. Any idea what kind of injuries she has?”

  “Hypothermia, probably a concussion and a broken leg. They’ll know more when they get her to the ER.”

  I nodded in understanding. “She’s alive though, that’s good.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m going to ride in the ambulance with her. Carter is on his way up here,” she said. “I’m going to stay with her.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I gestured with a thumb over my shoulder. “We can only speculate what caused the wreck. I wonder if the rest of them know about it.”

  “Do you think they’re still heading to Chicago?” she asked.

  “I’d say they’re already there,” I replied.

  “Yeah. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to wait until they haul the truck up and make sure her little girl isn’t in there, then I suppose I’m going to head home, get cleaned up, get some sleep.” I suddenly remembered my phone and pulled it out of my pocket. As I suspected, it was kaput.

  “Let me give you my roommate’s phone number. If anything comes up, give her a call; she’ll know how to get in touch with me.”

  The blip of the ambulance’s siren ended our conversation. There was a moment when I thought she was going to kiss me, and maybe she was, but then she caught herself. Instead, she stuck her finger out and tapped my nose instead.

  “You’re something else, Thomas. Get yourself rested. They’ll want a formal statement in the morning.”

  “You get some rest as well,” I said.

  She made a face. “Fat chance of that, but I’ll try.”

  I watched as she hustled over to the ambulance and climbed in. She was a pretty woman, and dedicated to her job. I liked that, and I liked her. I think she liked me too. In spite of my fatigue, I smiled, and in spite of how cold I was, the little soldier let me kn
ow he approved as well.

  The ride back was quiet, too quiet, and I was out of cigars. I was still soggy, muddy, tired, and hungry, but that didn’t matter. I was concerned about Lorilee. We had no idea what she’d gone through and most importantly, nobody knew the fate of her child, Amber.

  I parked in my driveway a little before ten. Anna and Marti were sitting in the den watching TV. Both had a cocktail glass in hand. Gracie immediately jumped off the couch and scampered over whereupon she began sniffing my soggy pants. I’m sure I smelled interesting to her.

  “My phone’s been blowing up with people calling for you,” Anna said. “What kind of shitstorm have you started?” Then she seemed to notice my physical state. “Damn, you’re dirty. And where are your shoes?”

  “It’s good to see you too. What are you drinking?”

  “I’ll fix you something,” Marti said, jumping up from the couch and going into the kitchen.

  “Make it a tumbler of scotch, neat. I don’t want anything cold.”

  “You got it,” she said.

  I was too dirty to sit anywhere, so I stood at the back door where I had a floor mat and gave them a rundown of the day’s events. Anna got up and went into my bedroom. When she emerged, she handed me a bath towel.

  “So, who’s been calling?” I asked.

  “Reuben called twice. Two men who said they were special agents, and a woman named Hope. She said to forget everyone else and call her first.”

  “Okay, got it. I guess I better call.” I held my hand out and took her phone.

  “What’s up, Buttercup?” I asked when Hope answered.

  “Lorilee is conscious,” she said. “I know what you’re about to ask. She confirmed it was the gypsies who kidnapped her. Apparently, Wolf had lured her out on the pretense of a dinner date. He had drugged and beaten her and tied her up. She was trundled up in the back of the truck for several hours, but at some point, she was able to get loose. The one we’re calling the Tambourine Man was driving. She tried to escape and the two of them began fighting, which caused him to lose control of the truck and wreck.”

  “I don’t suppose he had any identification on him?” I asked.

  “He had a driver’s license, but it was fake. No hits on his fingerprints either. They’re putting a priority on his DNA analysis. Hopefully, it’ll give us something to work with.”

  “Well, I’m glad she’s going to be okay. I’m assuming her child hasn’t been located.”

  “No, she hasn’t. The locals have search and rescue team on the river and the Highway Patrol are searching with helicopters. Even so, this is a major break for us.”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed.

  “Dresden probably has one or two messages on your roommate’s phone. He wanted you to report in for debriefing. When I told him of your heroics, he relented and directed me to tell you to come in tomorrow, but no later than ten.”

  “Okay, I appreciate that,” I said. What I did not tell her is I fully intended on getting a good night’s sleep and was going to report in when it suited me, not at the direction of someone else.

  “I have something I need to tell you,” Hope said.

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  She hesitated a moment before speaking. “The upcoming press release is giving me all of the credit for rescuing Lorilee.” She pushed on before I could reply. “I’m sorry, Thomas. If not for you, Lorilee would have been swept away and drowned. I plan on having a talk with Reuben in just a few minutes and straighten everything out.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” I said.

  “No, Thomas, it’s the right thing to do.”

  “No, it’s not,” I rejoined. “Let me explain.”

  “Okay,” she drawled.

  “Reuben is no dummy. He knows how it all went down. And, he knows I don’t care about getting credit for anything. He’s taking care of you. You’re the new girl in the office and he’s sticking a feather in your cap. Go with it.”

  She thought about it a moment. “I guess you make a good point, but it’s not fair to you, Thomas.”

  I scoffed. “Hope, things like that aren’t important to me and Reuben knows that. You’re worrying over nothing.”

  She paused before answering. “Alright, I hope you’re not being disingenuous.”

  “Oooh, that’s a mighty big word you’re using on me. Remember, I’m just a dumb, has-been city cop.” I could sense her smiling.

  “That’s not at all how I think of you and you know it,” she said.

  “Fair enough, but don’t worry about me. Besides, this is a good way for me to have a friend in the FBI who owes me a favor.”

  That got a laugh out of her. “Now that I believe.”

  We spoke some more before ending the call. The two girls looked at me expectantly.

  “I’m going in tomorrow to do some paperwork,” I said.

  “Do you really work for the FBI now?” Marti asked.

  “Temporarily, yes.”

  She grinned. “That is so cool.”

  I grunted. “It’s something. Alright, I’ve had a heck of a day. I’m showering and heading to bed. Keep the noise down, please.”

  “Yes, Dad,” Anna teased.

  I smiled to myself as I headed toward my bedroom and shut the door.

  I slept like a rock and woke up the next morning to find Tommy Boy lying on the pillow inches from my face. He was staring at me the way cats stared, and when he realized I was awake, stuck a paw out and swatted my nose. I was certain he wasn’t in my bedroom when I turned in last night, so someone had come in and checked on me.

  I took another hot shower and dressed before heading into the kitchen. Anna, bless her heart, had a pot of coffee fixed for me. She was nowhere around, but there was a notepad resting on the kitchen table listing a couple of phone messages and telling me she was spending the day serving subpoenas for a ball-busting attorney by the name of Rochelle Anderson. I was probably only one of three men Rochelle liked, and she only tolerated me, but she loved Anna and hired her whenever she needed subpoenas served. The last note was in capital letters. She insisted I get a landline if I was going to keep screwing up my cell phone.

  I fixed a couple of egg sandwiches to go with my coffee before heading out. The driver’s seat and floorboard of my Explorer was filthy, so I took the Mustang and soon arrived at the FBI headquarters. The security guard manning the front lobby was dubious of my employment status until Dresden came out and got me.

  “You need to issue me a security card,” I suggested.

  “All in due time, Thomas,” he said as we walked.

  “Yeah, right. Any developments?” I asked.

  “If you are asking if anyone is in custody, the answer is no,” he replied. “Miss Pushnell’s medical condition has been upgraded. In addition to many bumps and scrapes, she has a concussion, a broken left femur, and a broken left wrist, but she is expected to make a full recovery.”

  “Has Hope been able to interview her?” I asked.

  “Yes, Agent Delmonico has developed an excellent rapport with her.”

  “That’s good. Nothing on her kid though, right?”

  He shook his head again. “Agent Delmonico relayed to me you did not believe the child was in the truck, would that be correct?”

  “Correct. I never saw a child. I looked around, but it could be possible she was ejected during the wreck.”

  “Yeah, the locals have rescue teams performing a diligent search,” he said. “But we are also keeping in mind they still have the child and are going to attempt to leave the country with her.” We reached the doors leading into the conference room and he held one open for me.

  “You have a temporary account. Your full name is your login and your date of birth is your password. Find an unoccupied desk and use the approved report template for your report. When you are finished, email it to the following.” He pointed at the dry erase board. It had a group email address, which I assumed went to everyone who mattered.

&nb
sp; “Consider it done,” I said.

  “Please be professional in your verbiage, Thomas,” Dresden admonished before leaving.

  I followed instructions, typed up a two-page report, and attached it to the group email address provided and I also cc’d my business email address. After sending it, I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. They were not. Curious, I browsed the computer to see what I had access to. Other than some boilerplate templates and interdepartmental email, I had access to nothing. I wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t hurt to try it.

  Logging off, I stood and looked around. The incident command timer was prominently displayed on the center screen. It was a glaring reminder of how long it had been since one of their fellow agents had been assaulted and left for dead. I walked around to the various makeshift work stations and either eavesdropped on conversations or looked over a shoulder or three at what was being typed into the computer. It looked like a concerted effort was being conducted at every airport, shipping port, and border crossing.

  I spotted the same female captain from the Marshall County Sheriff’s Department sitting with an agent in front of a computer. I wandered over and said hello.

  “We found them,” she said with a grin. The agent looked up.

  “She means we found surveillance video of them,” he corrected and pointed at the monitor.

  It was a decent quality video. The camera was mounted up high, as usual, but the video was in color and had a high-pixel count. It clearly showed Lorilee’s truck driving up to a set of gas pumps. Tambourine Man got out and walked inside. The camera switched to him at the counter paying in cash.

  “No credit card transaction,” the agent commented.

  I understood what he meant. If Tambourine Man had used a credit card, they could find the account number and track wherever it was used. I watched as he paid and walked out. The agent pointed at the timestamp in the bottom right corner. It showed a time of 0158 hours.

  “Has the timestamp been verified?” I asked the captain.

  “I believe so,” she answered.