Edge of the Enforcer (35 page)

“After the fourth time we towed his patrol car out of a ditch, we sent him home,” said Ware.

Stanfeld shook his head. “If you ladies are finished chatting, we might move on?”

Ware resumed his seat.

Now what would have dragged an Idaho cop to California? Odd.

As deVries leaned against the wall, Stanfeld told him, “I came in to talk with the local law enforcement about luring Parnell and Ricks here, where there are limited ways in.”

“And fewer people to fuck things up,” deVries said.

“Exactly.” Stanfeld nodded. “I know you don’t want Lindsey as bait, but—”

The phone on the desk rang.

“Lieutenant Masterson.” Virgil listened and glanced at deVries. “You seen Lindsey here?”

DeVries straightened. “No. Why?”

Masterson’s jaw hardened. “We’ll check around town. What’s she driving?”

He hung up and looked at the others. “She’d told Logan she’d answer the desk phone while he cleaned cabins. He came back, and she wasn’t there. Her car’s gone.”

“Maybe she went to join Rona and Dixon,” Stanfeld said.

DeVries’s gut clenched. “If she said she’d watch something, she wouldn’t leave until relieved. She’s solid like that.”

Masterson was on the phone to his wife. Seconds later, he hung up. “No Lindsey. And Summer says it’s getting to be a whiteout up there.”

“That’s bad,” Ware said to deVries. “What are the chances your coyotes have already grabbed the bait?”

He answered Ware through a dry throat. “Too fucking good.”

* * * *

The snow was falling so thickly the forest looked as if it were draped in gauze. The car fishtailed with every corner, almost sending them over the side of the mountain. By the time Parnell’s hireling turned off onto a barely visible road, Lindsey’s jaw was clenched to an aching tightness.

And she was freezing. The man had shoved her out the door, not letting her get her jacket. Shivers racked her body as her old car finally started to put out some heat.

The car hit a patch of ice and slid toward a tree as the man frantically fought to regain control.

“You’ve never driven in snow, have you?” she said, forcing the words out.

“Shut up.”

Biting her lip, she worked her fingers. Even though she’d accompanied him without fighting, the man had tied her wrists together in front of her so tightly her fingers were half numb. Still, she needed to be able to move when—if—rescue came. It
must
come.

Logan would finish his chores eventually and notice she was missing or realize Becca was late. But how soon would they begin to search? And could rescuers even find them in the storm? When the man had seen her cell phone attached to the car charger, he’d thrown it out the window to remove any chance of tracking the GPS.

No one would arrive in time—if anyone arrived at all.

As her breathing sped up, she bit down on her tongue sharply.
No panicking.
She had to believe Zander and the men had a chance of finding her and Becca and the baby.

Oh God, I’m scared.

Her fingernails dug into her thighs. Parnell would hurt her. Kill her. Hurt Ansel.

Ansel.
Cold determination smothered the roaring fear. She had to save the baby.

Branches scraped and squealed along the sides of the car as the tiny dirt road narrowed. She stared out at the snow, thinking she could have walked faster than the car was moving. “Can I ask how you found me? I mean, how you found me in Yosemite?”

“Traced you to Demakis Security. Staked out the building. I followed you.” He glanced at her. “Parnell broke into your duplex before he drove here.”

So they’d been watching Simon’s building when she picked up Rona and Dixon. And she’d been oblivious. Now Becca and Ansel would pay for her mistake. Despair clogged her throat, weighted her chest.
God, I’m so sorry.
“My friends will be looking for you. They’ll find you.”

“Doubt it. By the time they notice you’re missing, they’ll figure you decided to go into town. That’s why we took your car and left my junker rental.” He showed badly rotting teeth as he grinned. “And nobody knows nothing about you—doubt you told your boyfriend you’re wanted for murder.”

Zander did know. And so all the men would start looking for her right away. They’d look for Parnell too.
I have to hold on. Stall.

In the swirling snow, the dark outline of a small cabin suddenly materialized. The man parked behind the low wooden rail, which blocked the way to the house.

Without waiting for her to get her footing, he dragged her across the uneven ground and shoved her through the front door so hard she fell to her knees.

Pulling in a deliberate breath, she shook her hair from her face and looked around. The one-room cabin had a woodstove in the far corner, bunk beds on the right. In the middle, Becca sat in a wooden chair, ankles secured to the legs. Her wrists were bound, forcing her to hold Ansel awkwardly in the circle of her arms. Her red-gold hair hung in tangles down her green sweater. Bruising showed on her white, strained face. Tears filled her eyes when she recognized Lindsey.

“Good job, Morales.” The voice was familiar.

Lindsey turned her head. At a battered kitchen table, a man the size of a bear rose to his feet, and her hopes dropped like a rock breaking through ice. She’d known Parnell was here but had hoped Ricks wasn’t. Stan had been right about Parnell and Ricks not trusting each other.

Ricks looked down at her. Although his eyes were shadowed by dark brows, the lust in them showed too clearly. “Guess I’m going to get some playtime.”

Lindsey forced herself not to look away.
You tangle with me, I’ll have your hide,
John Wayne would have said. If only she could.

“Playtime? Maybe.” Police Chief Parnell sat at the other end of the table. Victor’s brother had brown hair shaved to military shortness, a medium height, lean body, and deep-set eyes holding cold rage. A knife was sheathed at his hip, a pistol on the other. “Nice of you to join us, dear sister-in-law.”

The way he looked at her chilled her to the bone. She’d shot his brother. He’d killed Craig without a second thought—what would he do to her?

Parnell set his coffee down, picked up his chair, and carried it the few feet across the room to place it beside Becca.

Becca’s gaze met Lindsey’s, desperation in their depths. A mother whose child was at risk.

My fault. God, I’m sorry, Becca.

“Question-and-answer time.” Ricks yanked Lindsey to her feet and burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Gritting her teeth, she struggled, tried to elbow him. He wrapped a thick arm around her waist and groped her breasts.

“Ricks, give it a rest. Put her in the chair,” Parnell snapped and turned to Morales. “Go make sure no one followed you in.”

“Got it.” As Morales left, Parnell grabbed the front of Lindsey’s flannel shirt, wrenched her away from Ricks, and shoved her into the chair beside Becca. His mouth twisted with impatience. “Where’d you put the memory drives?”

“Well…” She’d known this was what they’d ask, and unhappily hadn’t come up with a response. If she said Stan now had the drives, they’d cut their losses and kill her, Becca, and Ansel. Even if she bargained the location in exchange for the other two’s freedom, Parnell wouldn’t honor his word. Becca could identify them; they wouldn’t leave her alive.

Did they think Lindsey was stupid?

The only hope was an escape or rescue, no matter how unlikely.
Stall.
“I hid the stuff really well. You’ll never find a thing.” She gave Parnell a slight smirk.

He backhanded her so hard the chair rocked. Pain blasted into her cheek, tears springing to her eyes.

Becca made a sound, a low whining, “Nooo.”

Blinking, Lindsey shook her head to clear her vision, to hide her tears.
I can’t do this.

“Don’t give me shit,” Parnell said.

Her voice came out shaky. “The flash drives are hidden.”

“Stupid bitch.” Ricks stepped outside. “Morales, did you find anything when you searched her cabin?”

“What the fuck you think?”

Ricks slammed the door. “Asshole.”

The chief snorted. “He’s reliable enough. I don’t care if he lacks manners.” From his pocket, he drew out long plastic zip ties and anchored Lindsey’s left ankle to the chair leg, wrapping it over her boot below her jeans hem. He did the same on the right.

“Why bother?” Ricks moved closer. “She gave herself up.”

“When I interrogate someone, I don’t want them moving. Especially this cunt who killed my brother.” His attention turned back to Lindsey. “Tell me the hiding place.”

“Fuck, I figure the struggle is the best part.” From behind her chair, Ricks reached around to grab her breasts painfully. She tried to jerk away as he squeezed and pinched. “Fight me, bitch. I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” With his open hand, Parnell slapped her, knocking her head back. “Where?”

The entire world pulsed with red-edged pain. A sob twisted in her chest. Her whole face felt scalded. As she sucked air in small pants, the sweat stench from Ricks roiled her stomach.

Startled by the shout, Ansel had woken and was crying. His little hands waved helplessly. Tears rolled down Becca’s cheeks. With her son in her lap, she could do nothing to help.

Ansel needs me. Think. Please, think.
Lindsey swallowed down sickness and forced herself to look at Parnell. “If you let Becca and the baby go, I’ll take you to the memory drives.”

If only one man took Becca from the cabin, Becca would do her best to escape him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll slit Mama’s throat.” Parnell’s thin lips tipped up. “This close, her blood will spray all over you before she dies.”

Ice formed splinters in her heart, hurting and tearing. Chilling her. “I don’t—”
have the drives.
No, he mustn’t find out she’d given them to Stan.

Ricks squeezed her breasts, making her grunt with the pain. Nauseating her. She let the retching sound escape. “Please, I’m gonna—” She gagged, started to heave.

Both men stepped back.

“S-sorry.” Pretending she was trying to regain control, she looked around. Parnell’s pistol was strapped down. Ricks wasn’t wearing one. Couldn’t make a grab and succeed.

Beside the woodstove was the bathroom. The open door let her see a book-size window. Too small. No back door. In the yard, she’d seen the two front windows had bars on the outside. No easy escape.

“Can we just…just make a deal?” she asked.

Parnell unsheathed his knife. “No deals. Talk fast.” Setting the blade under Becca’s chin, he pricked her skin. A drop of blood appeared.

Becca closed her eyes, holding her son so, so carefully. Ansel stared up at Parnell, blue eyes full of tears, little chest hitching with his crying.

Despair welled up in Lindsey. There was no way out.
Lie.
If it didn’t get her killed immediately, it might buy some time. “The jump drives are at the lodge, but—”

With a rattle, the door opened, and Morales stuck his head in. “Hey, snow’s getting deep. We’re going to need chains on the tires to get out of here. If we want to leave in a hurry, should put them on now.”

“Well, do it,” Parnell snapped.

“Don’t know how.”

Parnell stared at the guy. “Fuck.”

Off to one side, Ricks shook his head. “I don’t know either.”

With a scowl of disbelief, Parnell said, “Leave the bitches alone. You’ll get your chance later.” He grabbed his jacket and stepped outside.

Only one person remained inside. Hope rose within Lindsey.

“Fucking dick,” Ricks muttered. Crouching down, he ripped open her shirt. His face flushed. “When Parnell’s done, I get you.”

Her chest tightened. The thought of him touching her, inside her…
Let me go, please. Oh please.
She kept her gaze on him and clenched her teeth to keep the words from escaping.

His color darkened, and he squeezed her cheek roughly enough to bring tears to her eyes. “I’ll fuck your mouth, fuck your ass. Finish off with my knife in your cunt. Bet you don’t stare at me then, bitch.” He shoved her face to the side and rose.

She blinked rapidly, choking on the sobs in her chest.

He took a can of beer from the fridge. Other cans scattered the counter. How much had they been drinking? Would it matter?

Over the howling of the wind, she heard Parnell yell at Morales, “Lay the chain out like this.”

Finishing off the can, Ricks walked into the bathroom. The door closed.

Now now now!
Despite her lashed-together wrists, she managed to tug her pants leg up above the top of her boot. With numb fingers, she dragged Zander’s knife from the sheath.

A sharp gasp came from Becca.

Twisting in her chair, Lindsey extended the knife toward Becca, blade up, and mouthed,
Hurry.

Becca moved her arms from around Ansel and offered her wrists.

With a hard tug, the sharp blade severed the plastic zip tie.
I love you, Zander.
Taking the knife, Becca cut Lindsey’s ropes and handed the blade back.

Lindsey sawed through the zip ties around her ankles and stood—for a second. Her knees buckled, and she hit the wood floor with a painful thud.
Don’t have heard me, please.
Heart thundering in her chest, she slid closer to Becca. Ansel was kicking and squirming.

If she could get Becca freed and—

The toilet flushed.

Shit, shit, shit.
Her hammering heart was shutting off her breathing. Couldn’t run with Becca still tied to a chair. Couldn’t fight the huge border patrol agent. Not with such a small blade.
Need…something.

After dropping the knife beside Becca, Lindsey lunged for the woodstove to snatch up a heavy chunk of firewood.

Working on cutting her leg ties, Becca was watching. After giving Lindsey a sharp nod, she burst into pseudo-sobbing and pleading. “You have to tell them. Please. They’ll kill my baby. Please, Lindsey.” Ansel started wailing again.

Lindsey couldn’t hear her footsteps as she crossed to the bathroom. Raising the log over her head, she flattened herself against the wall.

The door opened inward. Ricks’s boot appeared. Stopped. “What the—”