“The Feds? What’re you talking about?”
“The FBI! How in hell they got wind of this, I don’t know. We ain’t contacted nobody. But they sure as shit know! We got big trouble, son. There ain’t been but one call made from here tonight, and you know who made it. Now, suddenly, we got the friggin’ Feds on their way out here to transport your lady friend back east. Over.”
In the glow from the dash, Heath’s dark face went stony. He keyed the mike. “The son of a bitch has FBI agents in his pocket. Over.”
“Go to the head of the class, over,” Charlie replied.
Heath swore and punched the steering wheel with the side of his fist. Meredith’s stomach convulsed as if he’d hit her. “I can’t turn her over to crooked agents, Charlie. If Delgado made the only call out of there about this, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he called Calendri. Now the Feds are suddenly involved? Those agents have to be on his payroll. If they take her into custody, she’ll never see a courtroom.”
“You don’t got a choice. Game’s over. If you don’t bring her back in, you’re screwed. Over.”
Meredith leaned back against her door, hugging her waist. Heath just sat and stared at the radio. “I can’t,” he finally said.
“Masters?” The male voice coming over the radio belonged to another man, and he seemed to be yelling. “Is that you, Masters? This is Roy Fergusson. Do you hear me?”
Heath sighed. “Christ. The district attorney?” He keyed the mike. “I hear you, Roy. Stop yelling so loud. Over.”
“You get that Calendri woman back here. Immediately. Do I make myself clear? You’ve got six hours. I don’t know where the hell you are, but you’d better make the most of them. If she isn’t back on these premises and inside a cell where she belongs in six hours, you can kiss that badge of yours good-bye.”
“Roy, her life is in danger. Her father-in-law, Glen Calendri, is tied in with a big crime ring. Over.”
“Oh, bullshit!” The radio blasted static, making Meredith jump. Then Fergusson came back. “Would you listen to yourself? Organized crime? Get real. What you’ve got is trouble on your hands. She’s fed you such a line of malarkey, I’m surprised you fell for it.”
“It’s not malarkey, Roy. I just found that out, up close and personal. Three men just tried to run me off the road. When they piled out of their car, it looked like the Fourth of July. I danced real pretty to the tune of nine-millimeter slugs, sprayed from Uzis, and I damned near sold the ranch. No malarkey to it. Over.”
“Son of a—Don’t tell me! I don’t want to hear it! You took them out, didn’t you?”
“What do you think? They would’ve sprayed me so full of holes I’d’ve looked like a colander. Over.”
“Oh, shit.” There came an awful racket at the other end. Then Fergusson said, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Saved my ass. Over.”
“You probably just killed three FBI agents!”
Heath sighed. “Roy, FBI agents don’t run people off the road and then start shooting without even showing their badges. Besides, I checked. None of them were packing ID, FBI or otherwise. Over.”
“You listen to me!” Fergusson roared. “You get her back here. You got it? Six hours, Masters. That’s it. No further discussion. None of us want trouble with the Feds, and if you make any, we’ll crucify you before we take any of the heat ourselves!”
Heath replaced the mike in its bracket and turned off the radio. Meredith was uncertain what to say. As if anything she said would make a difference? His career was on the line. He had no choice but to take her back to town. If he didn’t, he would be in horrible trouble. As it was, it sounded as if he’d have to do some fast talking.
He folded his arms over the steering wheel and rested his forehead on his wrists.
“I’m so sorry, Heath.”
He gave a weak laugh and straightened. “It’s a hell of a mess. I’ll say that.”
Meredith swallowed. “I, um…I really appreciate all you’ve done. I’ll never forget it. Except for my dad, no one’s ever stood up for me like this. Not even my dad, actually. I wish I knew how to—to thank you. And I truly am sorry about the trouble you’re in.”
“Mommy, why is Heef in trouble?”
“For being our friend,” Meredith said softy. “He has to take us back to town, punkin, or they’re going to take his badge away.”
Sammy leaned her elbows on the console, peering up at Heath. “It’s shiny. You like it a lot, huh, Heef?”
He tucked in his chin to gaze down at the badge. After a long moment, he removed it from his shirt and held it up to the moonlight. The look on his face was incredibly sad and empty, making him seem like a lost little boy for a moment. Then, as if he were flipping a bottle cap, he sent the badge spinning out his open door and into the darkness. A second later, a distant clink drifted back to them.
Meredith felt as if her stomach had dropped down around her ankles. He turned his gaze on her. Then he looked down at Sammy, his teeth gleaming eerily in the gloom as he smiled. “I don’t like anything in the whole world better than you and your mommy, sweetcakes.”
“Heath,” Meredith interjected. “We need to discuss this.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I’m going to need your help getting us out of here. Can you handle a stick shift?”
She’d learned to drive in a hay truck. “Yes, but—”
“No buts.” He climbed from the vehicle. “We can’t stay here like ducks in a shooting gallery. The keys are there, in the ignition. Start her up. When I holler, pull forward. If you hear a racket and you feel the back end drop, don’t worry about it.”
As she crawled over into the driver’s seat, he leaned back in to add, “Just don’t run off and leave me.” Then he chuckled and slammed the door.
As if she would leave him? She hadn’t the vaguest clue as to where she was, and she knew nothing about surviving in these woods. In addition to that, he’d just saved their lives and might again before this was over.
She heard him pawing through the stuff in the back of the vehicle. Then heavy metal clunked and grated. With each grating sound, the Bronco lurched. He was jacking up the rear axle to give the front tires traction.
“Okay, go!” he yelled.
She shifted into first, hit the gas, and simultaneously let out on the clutch. Gravel flew, pelting the underside of the vehicle. Then the Bronco lunged forward, its back tires hitting the earth with such force that the shock absorbers bottomed out. She slammed on the brake and clutch, gearing down into neutral.
Heath put the jack back in the rig, then came around to the driver’s door. After setting the hand brake, she moved over into the other seat so he could drive.
He didn’t stay on the highway for long. About two miles up, he turned onto a side road and soon took another turn off of it. From the console, he withdrew a spotlight and connected the clips at the end of the wire to something under the dash. Then he dropped the Bronco’s speed to a crawl and began spotlighting both sides of the road. When they came up on a cabin, he looked it over carefully before he drove on. Meredith had no idea what he was doing.
“Have you forgotten where it is?” she asked, thinking perhaps he’d lost his way to his friend’s place.
He cast her an odd look. “No, I’m just doing a little shopping.”
Shopping? Meredith settled back. Several miles and at least a half dozen cabins later, Heath spotlighted a small log house back in the trees. Under a makeshift carport, she glimpsed an old red truck. “This’ll do. No one’s been here for months. Last hunting season would be my guess. They probably only come up a couple of times a year.”
“Are we going to stay here?” she asked.
“Hell, no. I’m gonna swap cars,” he said as he cut the light and the engine. “This rig’s gotta go. They’ll have an all-points-bulletin out on it by morning, and the sheriff’s department insignia will be too easy for Glen’s thugs to spot.”
He was going to swap cars? He made it sound as if he planned to have a nice little chat with the people who owned the truck and strike a deal with them. “Tell me that you’re not going to steal a car.”
As he shoved open his door and swung out of the seat, he threw her a warning look, then glanced back at Sammy. “I’d never steal anything. It’s a very bad thing to do. I just plan to get us another rig at a five-finger discount.”
For several seconds, Meredith watched him walking away, his tall frame illuminated only by moonlight. He was about to steal a truck, and not in the line of duty. He’d kissed that good-bye when he sent his badge spinning into the darkness.
Oh, God. If he did this, he would be going well beyond the point of no return. Grand theft. Haboring a criminal. Obstructing justice. Aiding and abetting. Possibly even an accessory to kidnapping. Ever since hearing his conversation with the district attorney on the radio, Meredith had been battling with her conscience, trying to convince herself she didn’t care what happened to Heath or anyone else, just as long as Sammy was safe.
But now the voice of her conscience could no longer be ignored. If she didn’t stop this, right now, his life was going to be ruined, his career down the toilet. He’d be giving up everything for them. Everything. There would be no turning back.
The ramifications of it all began to sink in. Back at the sheriff’s department, Meredith had been so scared for herself and Sammy that she hadn’t really considered the consequences for Heath if he helped her. Not like this, from beginning to end.
She opened her door and piled out. “Heath! Wait!” She ran toward him. “You can’t steal a car! It’s madness!”
Well into the trees, he wheeled around, planting his hands on his hips. “Would you keep your voice down?” he asked in a loud whisper. “Sammy will hear you. I don’t want her thinking I’m a thief.”
Meredith pitched her voice low. “What, exactly, do you think you’ll be if you steal a truck? Law enforcement officer of the year? We have to talk.”
“About what?”
When she reached him, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. “You can’t do this. You’re the sheriff!. It’s your whole life! I can’t let you throw it all away.”
His expression turned incredulous. “This is a hell of a time to start worrying about that. Like I’ve got a choice? I can’t take you back, Meredith. If something happened to you, I—well, I just can’t, that’s all.” He waved a hand. “And those guys back there were shooting real bullets! Our asses are on the line, here. We’ve got to get another vehicle. This is perfect. Chances are, the people who own that truck won’t come back here for months to report it missing. Maybe I’ll even be able to return it before they know it’s gone.”
“And if they come up here tomorrow? Or in a couple of days? You’re playing roulette with your future.”
“I’ve got to do it.”
“Listen! Listen to me, please? We have other options.”
“Like what?”
“You could give me the guns and let me take the Bronco. I can shoot. Honestly. My dad taught me, and I’m sure it’ll all come back to me as soon as I handle a rifle.”
He chuffed and shoved his fingers through his hair.
“It’s workable,” she cried. “We could make it look like I overpowered you. That’d work. I, um—” She made a fist in her hair, trying frantically to think. “I’ll hit you on the head. Not hard enough to hurt you, of course, but give you a lump. You could tell them I knocked you out and that I escaped!”
He stared down at her. “And then what?”
“I’ll run. Disappear. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”
“In a sheriff’s vehicle? With every cop in the country watching for you? The minute I reported that you escaped, they’d have roadblocks up on every major highway. You had the element of surprise in your favor when you left New York. That’s not how it works when the cops are after you. They’d nail you before you drove a hundred miles. And off to New York you’d go. Huh-uh. I won’t have that on my conscience. No way!”
He jerked his sleeve free and strode away from her. She started to run after him, but Sammy shrieked in terror. “Mommy, don’t leave me!”
She threw an agonized glance back at the Bronco. “I won’t, sweetkins. I promise.” Then she turned to gaze at Heath’s retreating figure. “Come back here!” she cried softly, half afraid he might be mistaken about the cabin being unoccupied. “Heath!” When he didn’t stop, she picked up a small rock and threw it at him.
He jerked and spun, rubbing his shoulder. “I can’t believe you did that!” He came back toward her, his boots scuffing the dirt. “Three inches up and you would have hit me in the head!”
“We have to talk!”
“Christ Almighty! Talk, then,” he said, still rubbing his shoulder.
“I can’t let you dig yourself in any deeper! You’re already in so far now, you may never talk your way out of it! Now you’re going to add car theft to the list? Think, Heath, please! We have to find another way. This has gone too far.”
“That’s right. ‘Gone’! Past tense! Meredith, I just blew away three men with a 30.06 rifle. Registered to me, I might add. Talk my way out of it? There is no out, honey. Not now. Fergusson wasn’t kidding. If I don’t take you back, my ass is in a sling for sure.”
Meredith pressed her hands over her face. “Take me back then.”
“What?”
“Mommy?” Sammy whined from one of the open Bronco windows. “It’s dark in here, and I’m scared. You said you wouldn’t go ’way!”
Meredith drew her hands from her face. “I’ll be right there, punkin.”
“Go take care of your daughter.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight. “I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing.”
“Trashing your whole life?” she whispered. “That’s what you’re doing!”
“Yeah. Well, what the hell did you think would happen, Meredith?”
That was most awful part. She hadn’t thought. He had been her way out, and she hadn’t cared about anything but saving herself and Sammy.
“You asked me to help you. Remember? You said I’d be signing your death warrant if I sent you back. Did you really think I could help you without trashing my life?”
Meredith’s legs were shaking. Everything was shaking. For some reason, she’d thought they could simply drive off into the darkness, covering their tracks, and that Glen would never find them. Now Heath was destroying himself, right before her very eyes, systematically slicing away big chunks of who he was.
“I guess—I guess I didn’t think!” she cried. “Oh, God, Heath, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think!”
He cupped her face between his hands. “Merry, sweetheart…don’t do this, all right? I shouldn’t have said that. It was my decision to make. No one else’s, and I would have made it, no matter what you said.”
“What have I done?” Her voice came out in a squeak. “If you do this, you can’t ever go back. Oh, God, what have I done?”
“Nothing, honey. Nothing. I don’t have to do this. I want to.”
“I let Dan destroy me. And then I let him destroy Sammy. Now, he’s reaching beyond the grave and I’m letting him destroy you! Where does it stop?” She hauled in a breath, held it, and then released it in a shaky gush. Jabbing her finger toward the ground, she said, “Well, I’ve decided. It stops right here! Right now. I won’t let him ruin your life. It’s bad enough what I let him do to mine and Sammy’s.”
“You didn’t let the son of a bitch do anything. You’re here, aren’t you? And you’re still fighting back.” He lifted her face. “As for what’s happening to me, I’m responsible. Not you. I’ve thought this through, Meredith, and I know exactly what I’m doing. And you know what?”
“No, what?”
“I think I’m making a damned good choice.”
Chapter 22
The pickup truck Heath hot-wired was a rattletrap, four-wheel drive Ford pickup that had once been red but
now had more dings and dents than it did paint. It ran good, though, and had a king cab with a full-sized backseat for Sammy and Goliath. It also came with five cans of gas, which the owners had stored at one end of the carport. The refillable cans and the fuel might come in handy before this was over. Heath didn’t like the truck’s long wheel base. It cornered wide, and he feared the undercarriage might high center on rough terrain. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was transportation.
After moving Sammy and Goliath and the Bronco’s contents into the stolen truck, he wasted no time in getting out of there. He had Meredith follow him in the Bronco back to the spot where the shootout had occurred. Once there, he radioed in to report the fatalities and requested clean-up of the site as well as an ambulance to transport the bodies back to town. That done, he got his walkie-talkie and spotlight out of the console, then hustled Meredith to the pickup, afraid they might be caught if they lingered.
“I don’t understand why we came clear back here,” she said.
“Number one, I can’t leave dead bodies lying along the road. Call it crazy, but some old lady might find them and have a heart attack. Number two, if we’d left the Bronco anywhere near where we got the truck, we may as well have put up a sign saying, ‘Stolen Vehicle.’ This way, the trail stops here.”
“You think like a criminal.”
“I think like a cop. That’s why we’re such a menace when we turn crooked.”
On the way to his friend’s cabin, Heath frequently took side roads and doubled back to the highway to throw off any pursuers. Only after he felt sure that no one was tailing him did he head in a direct route to their destination. Even though he’d called in to report the location of the three bodies, he felt confident no one would think to look for him at Mike’s place. He hadn’t been up there in years and seldom even saw Mike anymore. The highway continued across the mountain and tied in with Interstate 5, which was undoubtedly where law enforcement would believe he had headed. Most fugitives tried to get as far away as possible, never realizing that the safest hiding place might be right under the local cops’ noses.