Collision Course (12 page)

“It's okay,” he said as he knelt down beside the girl and gently patted her shoulder. “What's your name?”

“Nancy.”

“Well, Nancy, what do you say we get your mama inside and look after her?”

The little girl nodded. DJ slung his rifle behind his back and slid his arms under the woman. The hours he'd spent in the gym made lifting the small-framed woman easy. Her torn blouse fell open, and he couldn't help noticing what a nice figure she had. He walked toward the door. Nancy ran ahead of him and opened it. He carefully stepped through, making sure he didn't bump the woman's head again on the doorframe. The house was modestly furnished but was clean and neat.

“Is she going to be okay?” Nancy asked as DJ set her mother down on the couch.

“I hope so, Nancy. You don't have any ice, do you?”

Nancy shook her head. DJ pulled out his flashlight and turned it on. He opened one of the woman's eyes with his thumb and shined the light in it. Then he did the same to the other eye. Both pupils contracted, and he knew that was a good sign. He tried to recall the paramedic training he'd taken after the police department had turned down his application. He'd applied to the fire department and had been accepted, but after just a few weeks of EMT school, he found it wasn't for him and dropped out.

“Do you have running water?” he asked the girl.

“No, but Mommy filled up the bathtubs before it quit.”

“Good. Would you go get a washcloth and wet it real good for me?”

Nancy nodded once and then disappeared down a hallway. He looked around the room and saw a picture of Nancy with her mother and a man. It was the kind of portrait that only families take. He reached down and pulled the woman's left hand up from her side and saw a simple wedding band.

He wondered where her husband was. If this was his woman, he wouldn't leave her in this situation. He only had to wonder for a moment, as Nancy came running back into the living room. DJ took the cloth from her, folded it in half, and laid it across the woman's head.

“Nancy, where's your dad?”

“He's driving his truck. Mommy says he should be home any day.”

“He drives a big truck?”

The girl nodded.

“I see,” DJ said. “Do you have a car?”

“Yes, but Mommy said somebody stole the gas out of it.”

The fact that there was no gas to be had here reminded DJ that his quad was still out on the road. “Nancy, I have to go get my four-wheeler. Can you watch your mom for a minute?”

Again the girl nodded, and DJ grabbed his rifle and went out the door. He carefully scanned from left to right and didn't see anything that looked out of place. It only took a minute to get his quad and ride it up to the house. When he got off, he walked over to the car the attackers had driven. He opened the door and was greeted with the smell of marijuana and alcohol. He leaned over and turned the key. The gas needle moved to halfway between the E and the ¼ marks. DJ walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. It was full of things that had likely been stolen. Most were worthless items like stereos and DVD players. There was some food, and DJ removed that. He spread the rest of the loot out as evenly as he could and then put the three bodies on top. Looking down at them, he thought he might feel some level of remorse. He didn't. They were old enough to have chosen their paths and got what they deserved. It was a shame, but letting them harm innocent people hadn't been an option. The trunk lid didn't want to close without a good push.

He'd have to get the car out of here, just in case these guys had friends. Plus, doing so would help minimize scrutiny from the law. He would drive it somewhere that it wouldn't be easily found and perhaps set it on fire. Hopefully, the woman would recover and be able to help him. DJ picked up the food and carried it into the house.

The woman was awake and was exploring the knot on her head. DJ could also see welt marks rising where the gangbanger's fingers had impacted her left cheek. She didn't seem startled when DJ walked into the room, which told DJ that Nancy had let her mother know who he was.

“Hi, there. I'm the guy who stopped those guys from hurting you. How are you feeling?” he asked, as he set the food on the kitchen counter.

“I'll be okay, I think,” she said as she gingerly touched the bump on her head. “Nancy told me you shot them?”

“I was afraid they were going to kill you and Nancy,” he said softly, “after they had their fun with you, of course.” He knew they probably would have taken turns at Nancy after they finished with her, but he didn't think she was ready to hear that. “I had to stop them, and shooting them was the only way I could take out all three before they could hurt you.”

“Are they all dead?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so.” DJ waited for her to lash out at him.

Her eyes narrowed and she furrowed her brow, wincing. “Good,” she spat. “I'm glad you killed them. Thank you.”

CHAPTER 13

“Y
ou're welcome,” DJ answered. He was surprised at her response. He hadn't expected her to be thankful. She sat up, and her blouse fell open, exposing her black brassiere and the soft pale flesh that it didn't cover. She quickly pulled the torn material up to cover herself.

“Really, thank you so much,” she said in a soft voice. “Since Roger's on the road, I've been worried something like this would happen. If you hadn't come along, there's no telling . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Where is your husband?”

“He was taking a load to the West Coast; he's a truck driver. I'm expecting him back anytime now.”

“I see,” DJ said. He knew that if the man wasn't home yet, he was stranded somewhere, or worse.

“I guess I'd better go change clothes,” she said. She stood up quickly, then wobbled back and forth for a second before plopping back onto the couch. “Whoa, I guess I hit my head harder than I thought.”

DJ stepped toward her and held out his hand. She took it and pulled herself back to a standing position. The hand was soft and smooth. DJ imagined that the rest of her would be the same. Standing next to her, he could see exactly how petite and perfectly proportioned she was. When she recognized how he was looking at her, her face flushed and she removed her hand from his. She and Nancy disappeared into the back of the house.

DJ sat down, immediately realizing how good it felt to sit in a comfortable chair. He thought about how he should already have made it to his bug-out location. It wouldn't be as comfortable as this, but it would be way better than camping out off the quad every day. He'd get whatever gas he could out of the attackers' car and hopefully he could guilt the woman into giving him some. Then, once it got dark, he'd hit the road. Maybe the woman had a guest room, and he could sleep on a bed for a few hours. That would be heavenly.

A minute later, she came back into the room. DJ immediately noticed that she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt.

“By the way, my name's Crystal,” she said as she stuck out her hand. “And this is Nancy.”

“I've already met Nancy,” DJ said as he shook the woman's hand. “She's a very brave little girl, and she's pretty, too, just like her mother.” The handshake was short and businesslike. “It's nice to meet you, Crystal.” He flashed his best smile and was rewarded with a shy smile from Crystal. “My name's DJ. DJ Frost.”

“Thanks again for helping us, Mr. Frost.”

“No problem. I'm glad I was in the neighborhood, and please don't be so formal. You can call me DJ.” He smiled again.

“Okay, DJ.” The woman returned the smile. This time, she seemed a little more relaxed. Suddenly her face screwed up. “Do you think that they might have friends?”

“I doubt it,” DJ said as reassuringly as he could. Then he thought that if he could make her a little frightened, she might do whatever it took to keep him around. “But anything's possible. Maybe we should get that car out of here, just in case. I can take it and dump it. Do you feel up to following me in your car?” he asked.

“Shouldn't we call the sheriff and let him get the car and the bodies?”

“Does your phone work?”

“Good point. But we could take the car to town and let the sheriff know what happened,” she said.

The last thing DJ wanted to do was to go to the county seat that was out of his way and explain to some country bumpkin of a sheriff why he shot three men. He'd probably get his weapons confiscated until the mess could be sorted out. He could even end up in jail if the sheriff was unreasonable. He couldn't risk it.

“Look,” he said, “I'd like to go see the sheriff, but I don't know what will happen if we do. This isn't a normal time for anyone, and there's no telling what he might think. He could end up throwing both of us in jail and putting your daughter in the foster care system. Those guys got what they deserved, but the way things are, it might be better that no one knows we were involved. Does that make sense to you?”

DJ knew she'd agree with him the moment he mentioned foster care. He was well aware no woman could stand to be separated from her children. Her reaction was stronger than he'd expected, though. Her eyes widened and filled with fear at the suggestion. She nodded blankly in response to his question.

“Do you know of a good place, not too close and not too far, where we could take the car?”

She stared at him with glazed eyes for a moment. “What?”

“Do you know a good place to dump the car?”

“There's an abandoned rock quarry about five miles from here,” she said.

“That's good.” He smiled, and she seemed to relax a little. “Do we have to pass any houses to get there?”

“Just a few.”

“Okay, we'll wait until dark, then,” he said. “I'll take it, set it on fire, and dump it. You can follow about five minutes behind in your car and pick me up.”

“My car won't run,” she said. “Someone drilled a hole in the gas tank and stole all my gas.”

“Then we'll have to take my quad,” he said. He hated to burn the fuel, but at the very least, he'd get to have the woman pressed up against him on the ride back. He could also kiss the idea of her giving him any gas good-bye. “You can drive the car, and I'll bring you back.”

“Thank you,” she said, sounding more grateful for this than she had sounded for his saving her life. DJ wasn't sure what it was, but there was something more than what met the eye with this woman.

“No problem,” he said nonchalantly. “Do you have a place where I could clean up and get some rest?”

“Sure,” she said. “Anything you want. I can warm up some water and put it in the bathroom basin for you. Would that be all right?”

“That would be excellent,” he replied.

“I could fix you something to eat, too,” she said.

DJ wasn't that hungry, but something besides an MRE or freeze-dried food sounded good. “That would be great.”

“What would you like?”

“I'm sure anything you fix would be fit for a king.” He flashed his best smile again. The woman blushed slightly at the compliment. It was the reaction he'd hoped to see.

“Okay, it'll only take a few minutes to warm up the water,” she said.

“I'll go get some clean clothes,” he replied.

DJ went to his four-wheeler to grab the duffel bag that held most of his clothes. Back inside the house, he stood silently as the woman put her finger into a pot of water every thirty seconds or so to test the temperature. After several tries, she declared the water ready and removed it from the stove. DJ followed her to the bathroom, where she poured the water into the sink.

“Take your time,” she said. “Here's a towel, a washcloth, and some soap. Don't worry about getting the floor wet. I'll clean it up once you're through. If you need to use the toilet, you can flush by dumping water out of that bucket into the bowl. Do you need anything else?”

DJ could only think of one thing, but he shook his head. Crystal closed the door behind her as she left.

* * *

Gabe seemed to shrink in size. His eyes glazed over, and Jane was instantly sorry for asking. “Gabe, I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand.”

He was quiet for a long moment. He didn't want to talk about it, but somehow he felt compelled to do so. It was as if Jane was some sorceress who had him under a spell. He seemed powerless to deny her. “No,” he said, “it's okay.” His voice quivered a little. He got quiet again, staring out the windshield, looking for an answer.

“I know they were in a car wreck,” she said, trying to help him.

“It was my fault,” he blurted out.

“How could that be? Weren't you at home?”

“Yes, but I should have been with them. Hannah had promised Michael she'd take him to the movies. She asked me to go with them, but I was tired. On the way home, a truck driver fell asleep and crossed the median. Hannah died instantly, but Michael held on for a day and a half. If I'd only gone with them, it wouldn't have happened.”

Jane could see that he was almost crying. “Gabe, if you had gone, then you'd be dead, too.”

“That's what everybody says, but maybe we'd have been earlier or later, and the truck would have missed us. Maybe I could have reacted faster than Hannah did. If I'd gone, then Michael would've been in the backseat, and he might have lived.” The last few words were barely audible.

Jane was at a loss for what to say. She reached over and placed her hand on Gabe's upper arm. He recoiled, and she pulled her hand back, now even sorrier about asking the question. She'd thought he was the way he was because he missed them. She had no idea that he blamed himself, although it now made perfect sense. There were other questions she wanted to ask, but this wasn't the time. Any healing was going to take much longer than she'd originally thought. The main thing now was not to let him fall back into his old pattern.

When they were almost back to his place, she spoke again. “Gabe, why don't you get the rifle and come show Robby how to shoot it? I'll fix dinner while you're working with him.”

Gabe didn't say anything. He sat gazing out the windshield, seeing nothing. He was reliving and remembering things he didn't want to remember. They pulled into his driveway, and Jane stopped the truck. He made no move.

“Gabe.”

He didn't answer, and she instinctively touched his shoulder and said his name again. The instant she did it, she remembered him pulling away the last time, and she was afraid he'd do it again, but he only jumped as if suddenly awakened.

“What?”

“Get the .22, and you can teach Robby to shoot while I fix dinner.”

“Not now,” he said as he opened the door and climbed out of the truck.

Jane got out and followed him up the steps. “Gabe, you've got to get over this guilt. I'm sorry for what happened, but you have to stop believing it was your fault.”

He continued toward the door as if he didn't hear her.

She refused to let his action discourage her. “We need you, Gabe. Robby and I need your help if we're going to get through this.”

He stuck the key in the door and opened it.

“You can ignore me all you want, Gabriel Horne, but I'm not going—”

He shut the door. Damn her. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? How could he have been so stupid to let her into his business? Who did she think she was? This was his problem, and he knew exactly how to deal with it.

* * *

Jane drove home disappointed with herself. She'd pushed him too hard. Things had seemed to be going well. There had been a few road bumps, but he had surprised her a time or two, like today in the gun shop. Perhaps she'd read too much into those gestures, and he really wasn't as ready as she thought.

She wondered what she should do now as she pulled into her driveway. Robby must have heard the truck pull up, as he bolted out the door before she could even come to a complete stop. She knew he was waiting for news on the rifle.

“Did you get it, Mom?” he said, almost out of breath with excitement.

She sadly shook her head, and the happy look on his face melted as his shoulders slumped. His transformation broke her heart. She wanted to tell him about Gabe's offer, but she didn't know if that would really happen or not. She had to say something, though.

“We only got to go to one place, and they didn't have anything good. There are other places we can try. It just wasn't possible today. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay, Mom,” the boy said, painting on a weak smile.

“Help me with this stuff, will you?” she said.

As she looked into the back of the truck, she saw that Gabe had left his groceries. She thought about going back and giving them to him. It would give her an excuse to go down and talk to him again. She decided to wait until the morning. Perhaps he'd be in a better disposition by then. She hoped so.

Once all the groceries were inside, Jane started dinner. She and Robby ate the fish he'd caught while she was in town. By the time the dishes were done, it was dark, and they went to bed.

The sound of chickens squawking loudly woke her up. It was dark, and she didn't know what time it was. It sounded as if a raccoon or possum was in the chicken house. While this wasn't a common occurrence, it did happen from time to time. She got out of bed and pulled on her boots, tucking her flannel pajama bottoms inside the shafts. Grabbing a flashlight, she made her way to the back door. There she had a large garden hoe just for such occasions. She snatched the hoe, opened the door, and started toward one of the large coops. When she was almost there, its door burst open and two men carrying several flapping and screeching chickens appeared. Jane was so shocked that she dropped her flashlight. The two men stared at her for a split second and then spun and ran toward her back fence line.

She was furious. She'd lost some fowl to predators in the past, but they had all been of the four-legged variety. Never had she considered that people would want to steal her chickens. She reached down, picked up the light, and shined it at the retreating thieves.

“Drop those chickens or I'll shoot!” she yelled. One of the men looked over his shoulder for a second, but he and his accomplice continued toward the fence as if they feared nothing. She was about to yell at them again when she saw an orange-yellow flash beyond the fence. An instant later, she felt the searing pain and heard the boom.