Night Chill (11 page)

“Of course there is. There has to be,” Lauren said, her voice less sure than her words.

“There’s another thing too. That night, when I asked her what the man had said, she asked me who Melissa was. She told me Huckley said she would end up like Melissa if she didn’t open the door.”

 Lauren’s shoulders caved forward. Just the mention of the name was like a weight on both of them. “But she didn’t mention it tonight. Are you sure…”

“Jesus, will you stop asking that,” Jack said, his voice rising. “I’m not making this stuff up. You heard her today. She told us what he said. He said he was going to kill us. Do you think Sarah would just come up with that herself? And somehow she wrote those numbers down. Don’t forget that.”

“Settle down. I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for everything.”

“You think so? You want to know what I think?” He jabbed his finger into the table. “Something’s happening. Something bad. Whatever it is, we have to figure it out before they come after Sarah. For what ever fucked up reason, I really believe someone is trying to get her. And I think they want to hurt her, maybe even kill her.”

“Mommy?” The soft voice came from the top of the stairs.

Jack and Lauren looked up to see Sarah standing on the landing above them, clutching a stuffed elephant against her chest. Jack forced a smile as if that would make her forget everything he’d just said. It didn’t work. Sarah spun around and ran back to her room.

“Great. Just great.” Lauren ran up the stairs after her daughter.

Jack was about to follow her up but decided against it. Better to let Lauren calm her down, then he’d go and make his peace. He only hoped she hadn’t heard much of their conversation. He made sure Buddy was on guard at the front door, did another check of the windows then headed upstairs, dragging his baseball bat with him.

TWENTY-EIGHT

The stretch of I-70 between Prescott City and Midland was empty. Sheriff Janney always found the drive peaceful at night. He drove with the radio off and the car windows lowered a few inches. It was a cold night but that didn’t stop him from enjoying it. The car heater was on high and pumped out air hot enough that he felt it through his thick leather boots. He stuck a hand out the window and diverted a burst of wind toward his face. It felt good and calmed his nerves. It was exactly what he needed.

Janney had avoided this meeting all day, hoping for some late break through to save his skin, but it hadn’t come. Now it was time to face the Boss. Face him with nothing but a shitpile of excuses for why he couldn’t tie up Huckley’s loose ends. And if there was one thing that put the Boss in a bad mood, it was excuses for not getting a job done.

 Janney had cleaned up Huckley’s messes before, but this one was different. Tremont was more credible than the usual backcountry folks he dealt with. A few tough words and most people backtracked whatever story they were spilling. But Jack Tremont was going to be more of a challenge.

At first it seemed all the breaks were going Janney’s way. His wife waving off the blood alcohol test helped fuel the booze rumors. Tremont’s past was a dream come true. The little girl’s death in the crash back in California had made Janney giggle whenever he thought about it. It was just perfect. Deputy Sorenson had played it perfect during their visit, goading Jack just like he’d instructed. That crash combined with Tremont’s episode in Huckley’s hospital room was making it easy for Janney to chip away Tremont’s credibility. But there was one important piece of the puzzle missing and it was driving him crazy.

He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a single page fax. It was the latest missing persons database. None of the new entries on the Internet matched Tremont’s description of the girl. At least Huckley had always done his hunting out of state like they had all agreed; tracking down runaways, girls already reported missing, years ago by parents who hardly cared. Huckley was a pain in the ass but he wasn’t sloppy when it came to the abductions. Not usually anyway. Trying for the Tremont girl wasn’t like him at all. Taking such a risk didn’t make any sense.

Still, without a body, Tremont couldn’t prove what he saw. There was no evidence on the cars, Janney had seen to that himself. But without a body, Janney couldn’t be sure this situation was contained either. The girl had to be somewhere. Had someone found it before he got there? If so, why would they have taken it and not told anyone? Could it be the girl was still alive?

 The cell phone laying on the dash rang. Only a few people had the number and none of them would use it unless it was important. He checked the caller ID. It was blocked, as it was supposed to be. “This better be good,” he answered, unhappy with the interruption.

“This is Sorenson. I just took a call from Jack Tremont.”

Janney rolled up his window. “What did he want?”

“He had a visitor tonight. A man who told him Nate Huckley was after him.”

“Really, who might this be? Don’t tell me Max Dahl was over there again.” Janney said.

“No. It was a Joseph Lonetree. Mean anything to you?”

Janney flexed his grip on the steering wheel. The name meant plenty to him.

Sorenson filled in the dead air. “I got the name from Tremont. I kissed his ass to make him trust me. Being nice to that puke made my stomach turn. Sheriff? You still there?”

“Does anyone else know Tremont called in?”

“Yeah, Bernice took the call. She got his name. Is that a problem?”

“No Bernice is fine. She’ll keep her mouth shut if I ask her to.” Janney rapped his knuckles against the window as he thought. “Is Morales still out at Tremont’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Let him know about Lonetree. Tell him he’s a stalker so the story checks out if Tremont spots him.”

“Roger.”

“And Sorenson?”

“Yeah?”

“Lonetree is armed and dangerous. He’s to be shot on sight if he’s spotted on the Tremont property.”

The deputy’s voice came back serious but eager. A little too eager, Janney thought.  “I completely understand Sheriff. You can count on me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing Sorenson. Just remember what’s at stake here for you. There’s no second chance.” He pressed the end button and terminated the call.

So there was a Lonetree back in town. The game was suddenly more interesting. If it was true, Janney knew Deputy Sorenson was no match for the man, but that was all right. He was starting to think his overeager deputy was too emotional and took too many risks. Of course, the deputy had no idea what he was really involved in. He thought they were just doing drug protection and that his fortune would be made if he did his job right. He was a recent recruit and Janney had started to think him as more a liability than an asset. Lonetree might do him a favor if he killed him.

Lonetree’s return wasn’t the only news that disturbed him. The message he delivered to Tremont was that Huckley was after him. He had learned better than to place limits on what was possible and impossible in the world. Every limit he had once believed in had since been broken by the strange path he now found himself. Nothing was off-limits. What was Huckley up to? There had to be something about the Tremont girl. But what?

He rolled down the windows the entire way and the car filled with cold air. The hairs on his exposed skin stood on end. His cheeks stung from the chill. Still Janney felt sweat form in his armpits. He couldn’t decide if the complication was an opportunity or a threat. This kept churning through Janney’s head until he came to his exit and he forced himself to focus on the meeting coming up.

The Boss wasn’t going to be happy about Lonetree being in town. Janney considered not telling him, but discounted the idea. The Boss had his own sources and nothing was kept a secret from him for long. Hell, Janney wouldn’t have been surprised to find out Sorenson was a plant, put there by the Boss to spy on him. Janney had always been a little suspicious of the way Sorenson appeared so conveniently after he got rid of the moralistic son-of-a-bitch who used to “help” him. The new deputy had been perfect for the job, but something still rubbed him wrong. Maybe there was—

Janney made a fist and punched himself in the thigh.
Shit, Sorenson’s not the problem. Where’s your concentration tonight?

Janney considered that hearing about Lonetree might be enough to set the Boss over the edge. Janney slowed the car to a crawl. He needed more time to think. Maybe there was a chance for him to spin the events in his favor. Maybe it was the chance he’d been waiting for. A chance for him to take over Huckley’s position, maybe even get rid of the bastard completely. Janney put his fear of the Boss to the side and focused on how he could use what had happened to his advantage. He felt the possibility floating in the air, not the way that freak Huckley felt things with his voodoo hocus-pocus bullshit, but more in his gut. Good old fashioned instinct. It was out there, he just couldn’t put a finger on it.

He was out of time. He pulled into the usual parking lot and spotted the dark shadow of the Boss’s car on the other side of the lot and rolled toward it, disgusted at himself for the way his sweaty palms slipped on the steering wheel, and the same nervous sweat that dripped from his armpits, dribbling over his rib cage and leaving a cold, moist trail. The physical reaction to the Boss’s presence only reminded Janney of the man he was instead of the man he imagined himself to be. The face in the rearview mirror was not a leader of men, but a mere child afraid of an angry and unpredictable parent. A parent to whom he had to deliver bad news.

He pulled the Crown Vic even with the driver’s door of the Boss’s black sedan and rolled down his window. The Boss’s window was already down but the inside of the car was too dark for Janney to make out his face. Not that he needed to. He could feel the Boss in the car next to him, could feel the frustration and the anger pulsing through his bloodstream. The sensation was all the more horrible because he couldn’t see the man’s face, leaving the expression that accompanied the trembling fury up to his imagination. Janney wondered if the Boss had intentionally positioned his car in a deep shadow for this exact effect. Or maybe the Boss consumed light, like a black hole, and that was why the inside of the car was impossibly dark. The only illumination was a glowing tip of a lit cigarette.

“And?”

Janney cleared his throat. “I’m handling the situation. It will all be taken care of by tomorrow.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Janney swallowed hard. “It’s complicated. Huckley went too far this time. I mean, the Tremonts are too high profile. Too local. What about the rules?”

“I’ve spoken with Huckley. He came to me,” the Boss said, trying to sound as if he were talking about a mutual friend who had stopped by for drinks. Janney wasn’t buying it. If Huckley had found a way to communicate with the Boss while he was in the coma, it was new ground for all of them. Even the phrase the Boss used,
He came to me
, sounded uncomfortable coming from his mouth.

“Is he out of his coma?” Janney asked, just to be sure he wasn’t reading too much into things.

“No, he’s still unconscious. But he found a way to…communicate.” The Boss paused and the cigarette tip turned a brighter orange as he drew the smoke into his lungs. In better times Janney might have asked more questions, but it didn’t take much to know this wasn’t a time for casual conversation. If the Boss said Huckley had communicated with him, Janney would leave it at that.

 He waited for the Boss to continue. “Huckley was a fool, but he had his reasons. Good reasons. The Tremont girl was worth the risk.
Is
worth the risk,” he corrected himself.

“You can’t mean we’re still going after her.”

“Yes. Huckley has convinced me it’s essential for the project.”

“It’s too dangerous. There are already too many loose ends. Jack Tremont saw Huckley. The girl from his car is still missing. And you’ll never guess who just showed up at Tremont’s house tonight.”

“Joseph Lonetree, I expect.”

Son-of-a-bitch. How did he know? Maybe Sorenson is sneaking around behind my back.
“Yes, Lonetree. So going after Sarah Tremont is out of the question.”

“Out-of-the-question?” the Boss said. The words were mouthed in ice-cold syllables that hit Janney like hailstones. “I will decide what is and is not out of the question.”

“Yes. I just meant--”

“Sarah Tremont is a requirement, not an option. She may very well be what we’ve been waiting for. But Huckley and I will take care of her. You need to control the situation with the father and the accident. Now, if you can’t make it happen,” the Boss sucked back another lungful of smoke, held it and then exhaled slowly. Janney wondered which the Boss savored more, the drag on the cigarette or the waves of fear streaming toward him. “You just let me know and I’ll have someone else do it.”

“I didn’t mean that. Of course I’ll--”

But the Boss’s car was already moving forward. The meeting was over. Janney let his head fall to his chest and took several deep breaths. He recognized the ultimatum the Boss had given him and understood all too well the consequences of another failure.

The relief that his reprimand with the Boss was over and the stress of the problems he faced was fast overridden by his all-consuming hatred of Nate Huckley. This whole situation was that freak’s fault to begin with and now he was the one taking the fall for it. He pulled up various fantasy killings that he had concocted over the years, all the painful ways to get rid of Nate Huckley forever, and let the best replay in his mind as he put the car into gear and looped around to exit the parking lot.

He would do as the Boss asked, there was no question about that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that opportunity was not only knocking on his door, but beating on the damn thing. He felt like a foot soldier with a grudge against an officer, suddenly in a battlefield, armed, and with no one else looking. All he needed was the guts to act.

Had he stopped to think clearly for a second, he might have wondered if this was exactly what the Boss had meant to achieve by the meeting. Might of wondered if his sudden urge to stand up to Huckley wasn’t just another form of manipulation. But he didn’t stop to think. He
felt
it was time to act. And that was enough for him.