Storm of Lightning (24 page)

“I wish I could,” she said. “But the less you know, the better.”

“No, the less I know, the less I can do to help.”

“You can't help me, Chuck. No one can. They're just using me. And after they get what they want, they'll kill me.”

“What are you talking about? No one's going to kill you. Who do you think is using you?”

“The people trying to get Taylor.”

“Taylor is gone, honey.”

Julie didn't speak.

“You need to tell me something. Do you know where Taylor is?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Did you do something to her?”

Julie slammed her hand against the glass. “How dare you!”

The police officer standing against the wall behind her yelled, “Control yourself, Ridley. Or I'll terminate your visit.”

“Sorry,” she said. She turned back and took a deep breath, then looked up at her husband. “How dare you ask me that?”

“They found traces of her blood in your car. What am I supposed to think?”

“You're supposed to think that I love my daughter, because you know I do. You know her blood was planted.”

“Planted by whom? Who would do this?
Why
would they do this?”

“Bad people,” she said. “It's a conspiracy.”

Charles sighed. “Julie, when you say that, you sound . . .”

“Crazy? Paranoid?”

“I didn't say that.”

“But you almost did.” She breathed out. “Chuck, you know me. I'm not crazy. And I'm not lying to you. Have I ever lied to you before?”

Charles was quiet for a moment, then said, “Not until now.”

“You know I've been framed.”

“By whom? The same person who's leaving drugs in your car?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me who they are. Give me something to go on here.”

Julie just put her head against the glass. “I can't. You wouldn't believe me if I did.”

“You're telling me that someone just randomly picked some woman in Meridian, Idaho, to frame? Why would they willingly lose a half million dollars to frame you? It makes no sense.”

Julie breathed out slowly in resignation, covering her eyes with her hands. “You're right. It makes no sense. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

Charles just stared at her for a moment, then said, “You need to start giving them some answers, or things aren't going to go well for you. You could be in real trouble. We both could.”

Julie slowly looked up at her husband. Her eyes were strong and cold. “My dear Charles, you have no idea what kind of trouble we're
really
in.”

C
hief Davis looked over as Officer Ridley opened the door to the chief's car. He waited until Charles was seated to talk. “How'd it go?”

Charles looked over at him. “Not well. She's suffering. She's afraid.”

“I'm sorry,” Davis said. “Did she tell you anything?”

“Nothing worth anything. She just kept saying that someone planted everything, and that someone is going to kill her.”

Davis's brow furrowed. “Who's going to kill her?”

“She wouldn't say.”

“Does she need a psychiatric evaluation?”

“I don't know. She seemed . . . normal.”

“Normal, huh? We just found blood spatters and a half million dollars of heroin in her car. Hardly normal.”

“No, I meant, she didn't sound crazy.”

“Paranoid schizophrenics can be very convincing.”

“I just don't get it. Julie's always been solid. She's as levelheaded a person as you'll ever meet.”

“What other explanation could there be?”

“I don't know. I mean, the woman's a Girl Scout. She yells at me if I go a mile over the speed limit. She once drove a mile back to the grocery store because the guy at the register gave her a quarter too much in change.” Charles shook his head. “It makes no sense. No sense at all. I don't even think she would know what to do with the drugs they found.”

“That could work in her favor, you know. If we could show that she was forced into this, the judge could show leniency. As long as she cooperates. She could lead us to some major dealers.”

“She's sticking to her claim that she knows nothing about where the drugs came from.”

“What about your daughter?”

“Same thing. She says she knows nothing.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don't know what I believe anymore.”

The chief was silent for a moment, then said, “I'm sorry, this has got to be really tough on you.”

“Nothing compared to how tough it is on her,” Charles said. “I just wish I could get her out of there. She's a mother, not a convict.”

“A lot of convicts are mothers,” Davis said. “I heard about the bail.”

“A quarter million dollars,” Charles said, shaking his head. “That's more than the equity we have in our home. I don't know how I can get my hands on that much.”

Davis anxiously eyed Charles. “You're not going to try to raise it, are you?”

“She's my wife. I can't let her just sit in jail.”

“Until we figure out what's going on, jail might be the best place for her. If she gets out, she may just run off to Mexico again.”

Charles exhaled loudly. “I don't know what's happened to her, but I do know that I still love her. She's my life. I just don't know
what to do.” He looked into the chief's eyes. “If it was your wife, what would you do?”

Davis shook his head. “I don't know. We married for better or worse, right? Bottom line, it's a man's job to protect his wife. The real challenge is knowing how best to do that. You've been on the force for fifteen years; you know as well as anyone that sometimes we need to protect people from themselves.”

Charles just sat quietly thinking. “Yeah, you're right.”

“Every now and then I'm right.” He smiled sadly. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day, huh?” He leaned forward and started the car. “Let me buy you some pie.”

“Thanks, but it's been a long day. I just want to go home.”

“I understand,” Davis said. He pulled the car out of the jail's parking lot and into traffic. Twenty minutes later they drove up into Charles's driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Davis said.

“Not anymore. Not without her.” He looked at the chief. “I can't help but feel guilty. I just feel like I should try to post bail.”

“Chuck, listen to me here. I know you love Julie, which is why you need to be especially careful right now. Give her some time to get her head back on right, you know? If you post bail and she runs, then there's no turning back for her. If she's caught, no judge will let her out again. If she's not caught, you'll never see her again. It's a no-win situation.”

“Yeah.” He groaned. “You're right. Again.” For a moment neither of them spoke. Then Charles said, “I'm going crazy just sitting at home. How long are you going to keep me suspended?”

“At least until her first court date,” he said. “Look, heaven knows you can use the time off. Take a trip or something. Go see your boys. Or go up to Coeur d'Alene. There's some great fishing up there. You've given your all to the force for fifteen years; you deserve the break.”

Charles took a deep breath. “All right. Maybe I will.” He opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride.”

“That's what friends are for. See you.”

Charles saluted him, then got out of the car. He stepped back as the chief backed out of his driveway, then drove down the street.

*  *  *

As soon as he was down the road, Davis took out his phone and dialed a number.

“It's me. We just left the jail. She didn't tell him anything. He's thinking about posting bail, but I'm pretty sure that I talked him out of it. . . . Yeah, I know. Don't worry, it won't happen. He'll talk to me first. If he tries to post bail, we'll arrest him, too. She's not going anywhere. . . . Yes, sir. . . . We still have his place staked out, a man on both ends of the street. If anyone tries to visit him, I'll let you know. If anything happens, I'll call. And please thank Captain Marsden for the bottle of Scotch. No one knows Scotch like an Elgen.” Davis hung up his phone. “And no one pays like one either.”

Earlier that day

T
he sun was just dawning when the four of us—Taylor, Gervaso, Ian, and I—pulled off the ranch road onto the freeway. The night before, while Gervaso had been packing the car, Jack had tried to talk Gervaso into letting him come with us, but Gervaso wouldn't budge. This was a covert operation, the fewer along the better. And, with Jack, there was the added risk of someone recognizing him. The same was true for Ostin, who had also asked to come. This was the first mission I'd been on without him.

Gervaso provided Taylor and me with hats and sunglasses to help conceal our identities once we reached Idaho. We couldn't take the odd chance of running into a former classmate or neighbor or even a stranger who recognized us. For all we knew, our faces had ended up plastered on milk cartons.

The drive from southern Utah to Boise took a little less than ten hours. It felt strange being back in Boise, especially when Gervaso
drove past PizzaMax. I had mixed feelings about that place. I had mixed feelings about the whole city. It should have felt like home, but nothing felt like home anymore. I didn't think it was the city that had changed. It was the whole world that had changed. Or maybe it was just me.

It was a little after five o'clock when we reached Boise, rush hour, which is what Gervaso had planned on. The more cars there were, the more difficulty the Elgen would have finding us. I thought again of what Ostin had said.
The best place to hide a penny is in a jar of pennies.
The last time we were in Boise, the Elgen had been hunting us. We were pretty sure that they still were. Why else would they have framed Taylor's mother if they didn't think it would draw us back? We needed to be ready for them.

On the way to Taylor's house we drove past Meridian High School. The marquee read:

CHEERLEADER TRYOUTS

WED–THURS AFTER SCHOOL

Taylor didn't say anything. Just past the school, Gervaso stopped the car on a side street, and Ian and I changed places—he got in back with Taylor, and I got in front with Gervaso.

“I'm first going to make a slow pass down the street to check things out,” Gervaso said. “The Elgen set this trap, so we should assume they're watching. Ian, I want you to watch closely for anyone suspicious. Also for any cameras panning license plates. This car's plates won't set off any alarms, but it's not an Idaho plate, and that still might cause them to take a second look.”

“I'll recognize an Elgen guard,” Ian said. “But if they're not in uniform, I won't know if someone belongs around here or not.”

“Taylor can touch him and see what he sees,” I said.