Deadly Blessings (41 page)

I don’t know if it was the open wound or the
fear in my voice that made him believe me, but he blinked once in
comprehension, gave me and Sophie a once-over assessment and called
out behind him. “Brothers! Trouble.”

Drunk and sober alike, they mobilized,
fast.

“
I’m Eddie,” the guy said
to me, over his shoulder. “We’ll take care of him.”

Shit, just what I needed. Beer muscles.
They’d be no match for Ro—these kids would get themselves
slaughtered. “No,” I shouted, but he was already taking charge of
the group.

“
Karen, you’re in charge of
the pledges till we get back. Bob, Jerry, Wayne, you’re in charge
of the camp. Frankie, get the fire extinguishers.”

An oriental guy pulled up the metal
container next to him. “Here.”

“
Han, that ain’t no fire
extinguisher,” Eddie said, ripping it from his grasp. “That’s a
goddamn propane tank.”

Han squinted at the tank by his feet, and
shrugged.

The group silenced—quiet enough that I could
make out the Bee Gees warbling one of their seventies’ hits.

I grabbed Eddie’s arm. “The guy has a
gun.”

Too late.

Ro stepped out from the trees into the open
area, his weapon raised, its silver-blue metal catching a glint of
the moon as he aimed our direction. The bright light from the fire
danced shadows across his face and he blinked, several times, as
though clearing his vision.

He’d come in a different way than we
had.

“
Nobody move,” he
said.

Nobody did. They might have been drunk, but
it was early enough in the evening that they hadn’t wasted
themselves into total oblivion, yet.

Ro moved our direction, his attention rapt,
keeping himself far enough away that he could keep us all in his
sights. “You,” he tilted his head to the far group of kids, “all of
you move to one side. Do it now. Do it slow.” He used the back of
his sleeve to wipe at his eyes. Maybe some of the gas had gotten in
them, after all.

Four girls who’d stood at Eddie’s call,
shepherded the blindfolded boys around the crackling fire to stand
with the rest of us. They held the pledges’ arms and guided them,
whispering to them as they moved. I could only imagine the level of
fear those boys were experiencing. This was bad enough, being
blindfolded had to be torturous.

“
You can’t kill us all,” I
said.

“
Wanna bet?” he asked.
“Back up.”

He moved forward to pick up the propane
tank. “This could be beautiful,” he said, his eyes glittering in
the fire’s glow. “Headline material.”

Over the high-pitched and harmonious notes
of Bee-Gee voices, I heard another noise, machine-like. There were
no farms nearby. And it didn’t quite sound like cars.

Ro pointed to me and Sophie. “Get over
here.”

I told myself I could do this. I had to. My
life, Sophie’s life and the lives of these innocent kids depended
on my strength right now. I knew I would rush him. I knew I had to.
And the inevitability of that knowledge seemed to suck away any
fear. Not entirely, of course. But enough.

I knew he was strong, and wily. I needed an
advantage. But what?

“
Okay,” I said. I grabbed
Sophie’s arm and edged along the line of kids who stood utterly
still, watching him with wide-eyed and slack-jawed expressions of
terror. I headed toward the trees where Sophie and I had come in.
It was about thirty feet away from the nearest kids.

“
Over here,” Ro
said.

Sophie started to move but I pulled her
back, behind me. “No.” I said, my fear making me brave. “You want
us, you come here. Keep away from these kids.”

His eyes flicked from the crowd to us. And I
felt the ground rumble beneath my feet.

“
What’s that?” he asked,
looking around. No one answered for a moment. Ro clicked back the
hammer of his gun. Even I knew that was an ominous move.

“
Don’t know,” Eddie said.
“The quarry company’s right past the trees. Sometimes they work
pretty late.”

“
Okay. Get by the fire. All
of you,” Ro shouted, as he moved toward me and Sophie.

I eased to my left, making it look as though
I was about to make another run for it into the woods.

Ro made it to our side in three long
strides. “Don’t move.” Pulling his walkie-talkie out of his pocket,
he said, “Lisa. Deep in the trees. Follow the fire. Get here.”

I heard answering static.

The ground rumbling got stronger. I
envisioned a massive bulldozer pounding past the forest, and hoped
to God the operator would see the fire and head our way.

“
As soon as she gets here,
the three of us are heading back to the cars. You
understand?”

I nodded. Then prayed for strength.

Ro grinned. “Know what you can take to your
grave?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, “That all these kids would
be alive, if it weren’t for you, and I’m telling you right now,
nobody’s gonna care about the two of you when they’re mourning all
these dead kids. The newspapers are gonna think that the big
explosion is what caused you to run off the road.” He smirked. “I’m
tellin’ you. This is beautiful. Couldna planned it better
myself.”

I expected him to fall when I rushed him. To
trip over the rail that I’d calculated had to be positioned right
behind him. I expected him to take a quick step back and tumble.
And I thought I could get the kids to run at that point.

I faked a look of alarm over Ro’s shoulder,
and shouted, “Emil?”

The big lug didn’t turn, but his attention
blanked for a crucial split-second. I hit him with everything I
had, but he’d seen it coming. His empty hand grabbed me by the
shoulder, taking a step back to steady himself with my added
weight. But then he hit the rail, and lost his footing.

His arms flailed out, and we went down.

“
Run!” I shouted to the
group behind me. I pushed off Ro to stand, and shoved Sophie.
“Go!”

Ro rolled to his knees in an effort to
scramble to his feet as my mind registered that the kids and Sophie
had started to move.

I started to go at him again, hoping to buy
another second or two for the fleeing group, to give them the
chance to go for help, when I felt someone grab my shoulders with a
mighty tug.

Eddie pulled me back so hard that we both
fell to the ground, backwards. And in that moment, I knew why he’d
done that.

And Ro knew, too.

But it was too late for him.

It happened in an instant, but I could only
replay it in my mind in slow motion—the disbelief on the big man’s
face, his aborted attempt to raise his arm in an effort to shield
his eyes from the bright beacon of light—his split-second-too-late
comprehension and the one step he took forward, to struggle to get
out of the train’s path.

The brief scream, drowned out by shrill
shrieking brakes.

And the sound of life ending, with an almost
insignificant slap and the splash of blood over me and over Eddie,
as we sat on the ground, quietly sick, until after an eternity the
rumbling slowed, and finally stopped.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dan’s station,
Up Close Issues
, made it
to the scene before
Midwest Focus
did. Of course. The news crew joined the slew of
police officers, including a tactical unit, and a bunch of
ambulances. Whoever made the phone call, had done a thorough job.
The police arrived within minutes.

Red and blue lights flashed silently through
the trees, with eerie crime-scene menace, even though it was over.
Spotlights shone in through every opening illuminating the
campsite, making me blink each time I inadvertently stepped into
the path of their beam.

A sergeant came over to talk with me, his
gentle manner so welcome that I trusted him immediately and nearly
lost my composure several times as I explained as much as I could,
as fast as I could. He spoke to a microphone perched on his
shoulder, dispatching a team to round up Lisa and Emil.

Later I found out that the two of them had
apparently remained blissfully unaware of the skirmish taking place
in the woods. Lisa had stopped following Ro, and waited by the
vehicles. I could only guess that the campsite’s blaring radio had
interfered with Ro’s walkie-talkie call to her.

The sergeant’s name was Knight and as he
walked me toward one of the ambulances, one of his officers sidled
up. “Sarge, most of these kids are underage. And there’s beer all
over the place. Turned up a bag of grass on one of them, too.”

Sergeant Knight stopped. I tugged at his
arm. “These kids saved my life,” I said. “That’s got to count for
something.”

He heaved a sigh. “Take them all down for
questioning. Take your time with it. Get their statements, nice and
slow. Give ‘em all lots of coffee. Okay? We’ll do breathalyzers on
them. All of them. But, later. Got it?”

The officer gave a nod and left.

“
Thanks,” I
said.

Sophie had an oxygen mask over her face and
a blanket around her shoulders as she sat at the edge of a gurney
on the ground. She was fighting the techs who wanted her to lie
down. When she saw me, she ripped the plastic away from her nose,
running up and hugging me so hard I thought I’d lose my breath.
“Alex, you are safe,” she sobbed, in Polish, “Thank you Jesus,
Mary, Joseph.”

I was fine, but Sergeant Knight made me get
checked out by the paramedics anyway. I sat at the other end of
Sophie’s gurney while they took my vital signs and patched up my
cut face with a temporary bandage. Eddie, being escorted to a
police car, passed in front of me. I nabbed the hem of his jacket,
displacing the tech taking my blood pressure. “Hey,” I said.

He glanced down. “Hey.”

“
Thanks.
I owe you,” I said, reaching for my purse to give him a card,
realizing belatedly I didn’t have it. “Alex St. James.
From
Midwest Focus
Newsmagazine
.”

His eyes lit up. “Cool.”

“
Yeah. You need anything,
you call me, okay?”

He glanced at his group of friends, all
being herded into waiting cars. “I’ll remember that.”

“
Turned out to be a hell of
a night for you guys, huh?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Pretty funny. It’s Hell
night.”

I shook my head, not understanding.

“
Initiation night. Our
fraternity. We call it ‘Hell Night’.”

As Eddie headed off, Dan sidled up, pushing
a microphone into my face. Not a television microphone, but one of
those little mini-tape devices like mine before Bruno ordered Ro to
demolish it. “Got anything quotable for me?”

“
What are you doing
here?”

“
Covering the hottest story
in the country right now.”

“
Get lost.”

“
Come on … you’re a
celebrity. And I want the exclusive interview. Got something meaty
for me?”

I stared at him. The paramedics were
finishing up, making me promise to get the cut looked at by a
doctor tonight, pronouncing me otherwise fit, with only a slightly
elevated heart rate. Yeah, well, I could have told them that.
Sophie, no longer in danger of hyperventilating, handed back the
oxygen mask. “No,” I said.

“
This is a great story,” he
said, with a grin I didn’t understand at the moment. “We’re airing
Friday. Devoting the whole show to it.”

“
What are you talking
about?” I asked, as I stood up.

But he was already gone.

* * * * *

“
Bullshit,” I
said.

I winced. My outburst made my face hurt. The
doctor at the hospital last night had warned me it would be tender
for some time. He’d taped an enormous white bandage over some new
goo that took the place of old-fashioned stitches and all but
guaranteed I could walk away from this encounter unscarred. But
between my bruised face and my aching arm from the tetanus shot he
insisted upon, I was feeling pretty battered.

Leaning back in his chair, Bass stared over
his shoulder, out his office window; the view was nearly identical
to mine. He shook his head, then turned back to us. William and I
sat across from him, both perched on the edges of our seats.

“
How did they get their
hands on it?” I asked.

William spoke up. “Jeff,” he said. “He gave
them both tapes. My video with Candy and your audio with
Bruno.”

“
Little weasel,” Bass said,
“comes to me this morning, after he hears about everything that
happened yesterday …” A mental picture of Ro’s last seconds flashed
before my eyes; I gave an involuntary shudder. “… and he’s crying
and sorry that he’d left you there alone.” He picked up a pencil
and tapped it against his blotter. “But the goddamn traitor had
already sold us out.”

“
Jeff?
Gave
our
story to Dan’s station?” My voice croaked. “Why?”

William piped in, “Remember when I saw Dan
skulking around downstairs? And I thought he was meeting with you?
It’s just a guess, but I gotta believe he and Jeff were setting
things up. But why Jeff would do a thing like that, I have no
idea.”

Bass leaned forward on his elbows, still
tapping the pencil. His mouth pursed, as though he’d just sucked on
a lemon. “He told me that Dan blackmailed him into it.”

I shot Bass a look of skepticism, and
remembered the snazzy car and snazzier neighborhood. I rubbed my
thumb and fingers together, “Or maybe some under the table
bucks?”

“
Could be, but I don’t
think so.” Bass shook his head. “Not the way Jeff came crawling in
here. He didn’t tell me what it was, but supposedly there’s
something Jeff doesn’t want his wife to know. I dunno, maybe he’s
got a woman on the side …”