Lethal Legacy (26 page)

B.J. crouched down beside her. “I have a bad feeling about this. Let's make short work of
it."

Amy reached up and felt along the base of the dragon. “No such luck, Dad. These yew limbs
are wound in and around a chicken-wire frame.” She handed B.J. a pair of wire cutters
and she took up the pruning shears. “I'm afraid we'll have to do most of the cutting by
feel."

B.J. held apart the dark green foliage while she wielded the shears. “I hope you're right
about this. Boyce would love it if we came up with nothing."

“Mai's last words were, ‘my garden.' She must have been attempting to tell Cam something
important."

Amy tried to work quickly, but the yew needles prickled and the branches were tough and
knotted with age. When she'd cleared a small opening, she stood back while B.J, cut into
the mass of wires.

She glanced up at the sky. “It's getting darker by the minute."

“We can't stop now. They could be here any minute.” B.J. stepped aside. “Your turn."

“I'll bet our friendly janitor's read every report I've sent to the sheriff."

“If that's the case, they're well aware of how close we're getting."

“Maybe that'll make them a little cautious.” She stuck her forefinger into the tiny gap
in the branches they'd made. “I think...” She changed the position of her hand. “Yes!
There's something in there."

“Let me see.” He pushed his finger into the hole. “You're right, there is.” He wielded
the nippers with increased vigor.

Inch by hard-won inch, they widened the gap. “I can't see what I'm doing, Amy. Did you
bring a flashlight?"

“No, I didn't think we'd need one.” She slid her hand inside to estimate the dimensions
of the plastic-covered bundle. “If I cut a few of the branches at the sides, maybe you
can pry the frame apart."

Fumbling in the half-dark, she snipped here, slashed there. “Try it now.” A heavy silence
hung in the air between them.

B.J. grunted as he pried. “Ouch, stabbed my hand on a wire.” The hedge rustled as he
grappled the underbelly of the dragon. “Now. Get the thing out of there."

“I have a grip on it. Dad.” Wire scraped her skin. Sharp limbs stabbed her. “But I don't
think I can get,"

“Quick, Amy. I can't hold this much longer."

She gave the parcel a jerk. It snagged on a branch. When she yanked it again, the parcel
came free so abruptly, she fell back on her rear end. “We've got them, Dad! We've got
the temple jewels."

“Maybe. Maybe not. Could be a red herring. Let's get out of here and see what's in that
thing."

Amy tossed their tools and the parcel into her tote bag and drew her gun. “I'm ready when
you are."

B.J. led the way. Stopping every few minutes to peer into the gloom, they passed through
the garden gate and started at a dead run for the protection of the garage.

Suddenly, the crack of a rifle sounded and a bullet ricocheted off a garden tractor
nearby. “Get down!” Amy yelled. Bullets rained all around her.

“We're in for it now,” B.J. muttered.

Amy instinctively felt for the medicine bag she'd promised Nathan she would always wear.
Nothing! No magic herbs. No spirits helper. Nothing to protect the twins.
She
froze.

“Move, Amy!"

B.J.'s voice spurred her into action. She crawled through the grass, her pulse thundering
in her ears, hoping rows of heeled-in rhododendrons would screen them from the
rifleman's sight.

A bullet thunked into a stepping stone in front of her. She slunk lower, the fog and
fading daylight making the sniper's aim random.

B.J. dodged behind an upright oil barrel an instant before a bullet clanged its metal
side.

A bullet snipped a twig off a bush beside Amy's head. She dug her elbows into the dank
sawdust mulch and inched forward. Now, ten feet of flat ground lay between her and the
garage.

B.J. aimed a volley of shots at the trees. “Run, Amy. Run!"

B.J. hunched over the wheel as the van leaned into another winding
curve. “See anybody, Amy? I don't dare take my eyes off the road in this damned
fog."

Amy turned and glanced behind them for the fifteenth time in the last thirty-five
minutes. Only three cars had passed them since they left Wheeler, and none of them had
proven to be a threat.

“I see a light.” She watched with growing apprehension as the light came closer. When a
helmeted motor-cyclist roared by without slackening his speed, she took a relieved
breath.

When they entered the city limits of Ursa Bay a short time later, Amy checked behind them
once again. “Maybe they didn't follow us after all."

B.J. shook his head. “Hard to believe. They've killed four people to get their hands on
the parcel we found."

“If someone reported the gunfire,” the police could have apprehended them before they got
away."

“I don't think we can count on that.” They reached a wide street lined with houses and
illuminated with tall mercury vapor lights. B.J. turned his head and smiled at Amy.
“Looks like we made it, kitten."

She smiled back. “I was afraid we wouldn't for a while there."

“Me too."

They fell silent as B.J. drove through the main section of town and turned onto Endicott
Street.

Amy winced as one of the twins gave her a lusty kick. She patted her abdomen.
Relax,
boys. I promise I won't take you an any more dangerous journeys.

Guiding the van through the alley between two buildings, B.J. wheeled into their parking
lot and let out a roar. “The damned floodlight has gone out again."

Amy picked up her tote bag. “Leave the headlights on until I get the dead bolt
undone."

“Hang on.” B.J. retrieved a five-cell torch from under the seat. “I'd better come with
you. The car lights hardly make a dent in this fog.” He got out on his side and closed
the door.

Amy opened hers and got out to meet him, but there was no sign of her father as she
closed the van door. “Dad?...” she called out hesitantly. She moved to the rear of the
van. “Dad, where are,"

Suddenly, someone sprang out of the gloom. She ducked and the hooded man's blow smacked
the side of the van.

Flinging the tote bag under the van, Amy drew her gun. She fired and missed. The man spun
around, lashing out at her with his foot. The impact knocked her gun out of her hand,
sent her reeling, she fell against the side of the van.

The man grabbed her and pinned her against the side of the vehicle. “Where are they?"

When your opponent has you cornered +distract.
“What have you done to my father?”
Amy .

Uttering a guttural oath, the man smacked her head with the side of his hand. “Answer
me."

She staggered and caught hold of the door handle, “If you've hurt him, you'll pay with
your life."

He shoved his forearm against her throat. “Tell me where they are, or you'll wish you
had."

With an ear splitting scream, Amy rammed her knee into the man's groin. As he started to
crumple, she bashed his nose with her head. He collapsed in a moaning heap.

Amy snatched her keys from her pocket and rushed for the back door. Before she reached
it, another hooded man seized her arm and spun her around to face him.

“Give me the jewels."

“Go to Hell! she yelled and drove the point of her key into the back of his hand. When he
cried out and loosened his grip, she jerked free and dashed for the alley.

Her assailant tackled her and flung against the building. “Give them to me,” the man
snarled raising his knife.

“No!” Amy shouted and jammed her heel down on his toes.

He let out a bellow of rage and grabbed her by the throat. “Want me to slice you open and
cut out your baby?"

She stopped struggling.
What was she doing?
Too much was at stake. “In a bag under
the van,” she said.

The man barked a command in the direction of the van. Amy heard a groan as the other man
dragged himself to all fours and crawled toward the car.

But as he neared it, another intruder leaped out of the darkness and whacked the hooded
man in the head with his gun. As the gunman approached them, Amy recognized him and drew
a sigh of relief.

“Let go of her, or I'll blow a hole clear through you,” Cam shouted.

“Easy, Cam,” she gasped, “he's got a knife."

“Stupid white bitch!” her attacker snarled. Lunging forward, he delivered a blow to her
ribs, wheeled, and ran.

Amy gasped and slid down the wall until she came to rest on the asphalt.

She heard gun fire, and an agonized cry as the fleeing man pitched forward. He struggled
to rise and screamed, “My leg, my leg!”

Cam ran to him, yanked off the man's hood, and jammed his gun barrel against the man's
belly. “Make a move, you dirty sonofabitch. I'm just itching to put a bullet in your gut
and watch you suffer like my wife did."

“Cam?” Amy cried in a weak voice. “They did something to my father..."

“Don't worry, Amy, I'll find him as soon as I get these two tied up."

Just then, B.J. wandered out from behind the van, rubbing his head. “Amy?” he called,
“You all right?”

A siren wailed in the distance. “Cam,” she drew in a shallow breath and pain lanced
through her chest, “give ... your gun ... to Dad ... before the police get here."

Cam glared at the men on the pavement and handed his pistol to B.J., who wiped the weapon
clean, and stuck it in his jacket pocket. “Go check on Amy, I'll watch these bastards
until the police arrive."

Cam dropped down beside her. “Did he hurt you?"

“I don't know why I feel so weak,” Amy gasped. “He ... he ... only hit me."

“Where?"

“Left side."

Cam turned her toward the light. “Jesus!” He shucked his jacket and took off his shirt,
popping buttons in his haste. “Dr. Prescott, she's got a knife in her ribs."

“What?” B.J. leaped up from where he sat wrapping duct tape around the men's hands and
feet and ran over to her. “Do something. Cam. You're the trauma expert.” He patted Amy's
shoulder. “I'll go call 911."

Cam unzipped her coat, ripped open her blouse, and pressed his folded shirt to the wound.
“I need tape and bandages."

Amy clutched Cam's arm. “I'm pregnant with twins.” Pain exploded inside her and ballooned
outward.

“How far along?"

“Eighteen weeks.” She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. Every word burned like
fire, but she had to make sure. “Don't ... let the doctors ... do anything,” she paused
to gather her strength, “that'll harm the babies."

Breathing hard, B.J. skidded to a halt beside Cam and Amy. “They're on their way.” He
snapped open his medical bag, spread a towel, and laid out the things Cam would need. He
held his torch while Cam worked over Amy.

Cam's gaze met hers. “The knife has to stay where it is until we get you to the
hospital."

Cold sweat broke out on her forehead and she fought down a wave of weakness. “I ...
understand."

B.J. squatted down and pressed his palm to her cheek. “Hang in there, kitten.” His voice
cracked and he ducked his head and cleared his throat. “I couldn't stand it if anything
happened to you."

Amy squeezed his hand. “I'll make it. Dad. I have to."

Cam tore open a packet of four-by-four gauze sponges and crammed them around me knife
handle to stem the flow of blood. Every few minutes, he tossed sodden gauze aside, added
a clean pack, and applied pressure.

A low groan escaped her as shards of white hot pain wracked her chest.

“Sorry, Amy. This has to be done.” He taped the bandages and knife in place.

B.J. shifted from one foot to the other. “When is that damned ambulance going to get
here?"

Amy heard a door slam, the sound of running footsteps, and then saw Mary Little Bear's
anxious face above her. “Is she all right?"

“She's been stabbed,” Cam said. “Did you see what happened?"

“Yes, I live with Amy. I was in my room,” she pointed up at her window, “I saw them
attack her and called the police.” She turned to stare at the two bound men. “Who are
they?"

“Kim and Tai Sen,” Cam said without looking up.

“Their real name is Pham,” B.J. said. “Their father was conservator of a temple in
Cambodia. Mai's father was his assistant. The conservator planned to give the temple
jewels to the Khmer Rouge in exchange for his family's safety. Chantou Pran found out,
took the jewels, and he and Mai left the country."

“Chantou Pran!” Tai Pham sneered, his mouth twisting into an evil leer, “Tuan Keo. Thief!
Murderer!” Tai spat out a stream of Khmer invective. “He stole our father, our mother.”
He touched his scar. “Our lives. The temple jewels belong to
us."

The sirens drew closer. Revolving blue and red lights created kaleidoscopic patterns in
the fog.

“Let me go,” Kim pleaded. “I have done nothing."

Cam shook his fist at him. “Nothing! Sadistic sonofabitch. You raped and murdered my
wife. You killed Chea Le. You came close to killing Amy!"

“Lying
yuon
scum. Tai did it, not me."

“Like hell! Chea told me she was pregnant. That her lover lived in Wheeler.” Cam rolled
his coat and propped up Amy to ease her breathing. “After they found Chea, I followed
you. Heard you and Tai talking."

Three police cars and an emergency vehicle roared up the alley, two medics converged on
Amy. B.J. stroked Amy's hand. “You're going to be fine, honey. Just fine.” His worried
expression contrasted with his words.

“Dad,” she whispered. “Nathan mustn't find out about,"

Darkness closed in on her.

Amy struggled out of oblivion and opened her eyes. Nathan sat beside her
bed, his face as rigid as if he'd been carved in stone. His head thrown back, his eyes
closed, his lips moving silently, he tapped a steady rhythm on his thigh.