Primal Force (29 page)

When Law had seated himself, Becker moved in behind him and placed the barrel of his gun against the nape of his neck. “I'm just going to cuff you so we can talk without a problem. I'm trying to do the right thing here.” He cuffed Law, hands behind his back, with flex cuffs.

When he was done, he moved back in front of Law and said, “I've had nothing to do with the drug trade. I'm a cop. Traffickers are the scum of the earth. Those other officers they arrested this morning have no honor.”

“It's me you're talking to, Becker. I know you're on the take with Tice. I know someone sent you to the Springdale office to spy on me. And I know you broke in here looking for something. Was it evidence I was collecting on Tice? You were helping him cover up drug dealings.”

“No. It wasn't like that. I had information the Tices were willing to pay me to keep quiet about. Nothing to do with drugs but good enough to ruin a political career.” Becker grinned, looking a little more relaxed. “That's what I want to talk to you about. It'll cost you your truck, some cash, and a twenty-four-hour head start to get my information. Then I'll give you enough to ruin Tice.”

“No.”

Becker smirked. “You think you're too good to do a deal?”

“What deal? I let you get away and you promise to phone me from Brazil and tell me about the Tices? A six-year-old could see the problem with that bargain.”

Becker nodded. “What if I could guarantee that Luke Tice will end up in jail?”

“The feds are taking care of that as we speak.”

Becker shook his head. “That'll never stick on Luke. His dad, maybe. But he can buy enough lawyers to keep this mess tied up in court for the next ten years. Luke is slick as shit. He'll rally sympathy. Might even win the election because his poor daddy's been indicted. You've seen stranger things happen.”

Law didn't argue. “Why do you care?”

“I hate to see a bad man get away.”

“Since he's no longer paying you.”

Becker's face went crimson. “I was holding them to account.” He thumbed his nose. “You know, it was so simple. I didn't have anything but a hunch. But I worked it out in such a way that I could benefit on both sides, father and son.”

“That must have been some hunch.” Law was watching Becker's every action, calculating the odds of which chance to take when. He needed to keep him talking while he did that.

“I need money and your vehicle.”

“I'm broke. My truck is yours. Keys in my rig outside.”

Becker swore under his breath. “I'll give you this much, Battise. The father was paying to keep the son out of the news. The son was paying to keep the father from knowing the truth.”

“I'm impressed you could play the pair off each other like that.”

Becker nodded. “What I got could get your girlfriend what she wants.”

“What do you think that is?”

“Revenge. Papa Tice says your piece of ass wants revenge for her time behind bars.”

“Unlike you, she really wasn't guilty.”

Becker's face swelled again with anger. “I don't have time for this. You interested in a deal or not?”

“Not.”

“A regular Boy Scout.” Becker glanced around the room as his thumb played with the safety.

“If you've got information, take it to the feds, Becker. Cut a deal. Lighten your sentence.”

“No deal will keep me out of prison. I can't go to prison. I'm a cop. You know what'll happen.”

“The feds could send you out of state. Give you a new identity in prison. If you know enough you can make that deal.”

“No.” He slid the back of his hand over his mouth. “I'm not going behind bars like the scum I put away. Douchebags getting to see me locked up? I can't do that. If you won't deal, then I need a hostage.”

He raised the barrel and thumbed the safety, then palmed one into the chamber. He aimed his weapon at Law's good leg. “Don't make me regret what I'll have to do next if you don't cooperate. I'm going to need your leg.”

“Fuck you.”

Becker chuckled and moved in behind him.

“Sorry about this, Battise. I kinda always respected you. Guess I still do, you son of a bitch.”

Becker's left arm encircled Law's neck. Law braced his feet against the floor and kicked hard. Overturning the chair and himself, and causing Becker to fall. But the bastard had him. Becker had placed the palm of the hand against Law's shoulder. As he applied pressure on both sides of his neck. Law felt the white-hot shock of rage before he passed out.

*   *   *

Jori was surprised to see Law's truck pulling out on the highway just as she approached. She honked, trying to get his attention, but the truck turned off in the opposite direction.

She'd tried calling him half a dozen times on the drive but he wouldn't pick up. She doubted he'd even listened to her messages. Stubborn man!

The news of Tice's arrest had stunned her. She had a dozen questions and she was certain Law had information the public wouldn't get. So here she was, two hours later, arriving just as he was leaving. The ice had begun to build up on the trees, rain freezing on contact. Another hour and she wouldn't have attempted the trip.

She blew her horn a second time as she passed the turnoff, following the truck instead.

To her surprise, the truck speeded up.

“Dammit, Law. Stubborn male.”

He didn't want to see her. Well, tough. She'd driven all the way up here to—A cursory glance in her rearview made her foot reach for the brakes.

Sam was galloping down the road behind her. Why would Law leave Sam behind?

Jori pulled over and opened the passenger-side door.

Sam bolted into the front seat, shaking rain and sleet from her coat. And then she barked.

Jori looked up. Law's truck had disappeared around a bend.

Jori shut the door and put her foot on the gas. The SUV tires spun before getting traction.

“Dammit. It's icing up.” Jori looked at Sam. “Sorry, it's going to be rough.”

She put her foot more carefully on the gas, increasing slowly only as she felt the SUV roll forward. It was well past daybreak but it seemed like dusk with the deep shadows of the mountainside surrounding her. She could hear the sleet pinging softly on the windshield as she edged her way along in second gear.

The road took a sharp turn, the grade climbing upward toward a sharp drop-off. She had passed an earlier highway commission warning sign about the steep grade coming up, telling truckers to shift to lower gears. She was already in second on the climb up.

She held her breath as she edged her car forward. She didn't like ice. Drove on it only when absolutely necessary. Seeing Law seemed absolutely necessary until this moment.

She made it to the top of the grade by sheer will at a crawl of less than four miles an hour. But her stomach dropped to her feet as she crested the top and stared out across the edge of the curved road, about to head steeply downward.

There were skid marks on the road and a gap in the railing on the outside. Bare broken branches still swayed, flinging icicles onto the road. Out and beyond the break and drop-off was a pair of high beams arching through the darkness below.

“Oh my God. Law!”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jori's hands shook as she fumbled to plug her cell phone into its charger and punched 911 for the third time. Maybe more juice would help the call get through.

Don't think about what just happened. Don't think about it. Don't think.

There was a single ring this time. Even before she could react in joy, the line went dead.

“Oh, come on!” She glanced at the bars, swinging her phone around on her extended arm inside the SUV, seeking a stronger signal. One bar, then the
NO SERVICE
message came on. Hills made a joke of wireless coverage claims.

Jori closed her eyes then opened them immediately. Mistake.

Don't think about what just happened. Don't think about it. Don't think.

She couldn't call for help. She needed to go for help.

Jori stepped on the gas. The SUV jerked forward.

“Crap!” Too much, too fast. The road was slick from rain, and getting slicker from the fact that the water was turning to ice on contact with all surfaces.

Yet even as she applied the brakes softly, the SUV continued to roll because she was now over the crest of the rise. The grade was steep. Too steep for her to attempt. She applied a tiny bit more pressure and felt the back end began to fishtail.

Take your foot off the accelerator.
She could practically hear her father's voice in her ear as he taught her to drive.
Don't apply the brakes until tires regain traction.

In the time it took to think those two thoughts, the SUV found traction and slowed as the rear tires grabbed asphalt. But now her vehicle was smack in the middle of the road and turned almost sideways, pointed toward the outside edge.

“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” Heart thundering in her chest, she glanced over the hood and down over the edge for the first time since she'd seen the accident. Her heart nearly stopped.

Fifty yards away and maybe two dozen feet down, blazing headlights illuminated a swath of evergreen trees, the only indication in the gloom that there was a vehicle down below. Law was down there. He needed help but she couldn't get it.

Sam whimpered, scratching at the passenger-side door as if she sensed something had happened and what needed to be done.

“I know. I know. It's going to be okay.” Jori gave her slow hard strokes from neck to tail. A frantic dog wasn't going to help. “I'll think of something.”

Sam was shaking, a combination of her own exertions, her wet fur, and the anxiousness pouring from Jori.

Even as she tried her phone for the fourth time, texting a message in the hope it might get through when a phone signal would not, she noticed that her windshield wipers were no longer able to scrape away all the ice from the glass. She looked at the thermometer. Thirty-one degrees, the magic number for disaster. The severe weather was arriving earlier than forecast. She had to get Law help.

She knew he must be hurt. Equally, she refused to even acknowledge the possibility of anything worse.

She needed a plan. She needed to get to him. To tend to his injuries. Keep him warm until help came. Three things.

“I can do this.” She said the words aloud to help make herself believe them.

Except help. What would bring help if her cell phone wouldn't work down at the crash site?

Inventory.

She needed to think about what she could carry with her to accomplish her goals before she stepped out into the sharp cold slowly encasing her world in ice. Once she was out, every second counted. The freezing rain was forecast to change into snow, eventually. Snow would be easier to deal with.

“Please, let it snow.” The thought came and went. She had to deal with what was, not wishes.

“Inventory, Jori. Think.”

But nothing came to mind. Her heart was in that wrecked truck below. Her brain was stalled. Nothing else came to mind. She was wasting precious seconds.

She thumped the horn, making long hard blasts. “Dammit, think!”

Whining in distress, Sam leaned in and licked her face. “Stop. I don't have time for a dog—” A lightbulb went on. She grabbed Sam and hugged her neck. “Thank you!”

Working with dogs for a living made her more prepared for emergencies than most pet owners. Training included first aid for dogs. Like Law, she carried a full canine first-aid kit and two blankets. There was also the roadside emergency kit her father had sent her when she bought this SUV. At the time she'd wondered when she'd ever need it, other than maybe the booster cables. But canned compressed air, bungee cords, and flares? Flares! Flares were good. They could be used to mark the way.

But first she needed to find Law.

She leaned across Sam and opened her glove compartment. A big heavy flashlight rolled out into her hand.

As she stuffed the flashlight into a pocket of her micro-puff jacket, she gazed at the goldendoodle with misgivings. Service dogs were taught to find things when given a direct order. Sam would certainly help her find her way to Law. But the weather would be hard on her. Sam didn't have protective clothing.

Jori pulled up the hood of her jacket and tied it tightly around her face then leaned her head against Sam's. “You have to stay here. I'll crack a window but leave the engine running for you for heat.”

Why was she talking to a dog? Because she badly needed to bounce her thoughts off someone. And Sam was watching her with the intensity she displayed when learning a new game. Her ears were up, eyebrows twitching, her body ready to react as her gaze shifted intently with Jori's every move. As if she might be asked to repeat them. Sam was more than a warm body. Sam knew things.

Jori pushed open her door. As she did so, she heard sounds of an engine close by. Her heart stumbled and she scrambled out onto the road. Another car. Someone to help her.

She moved to the front of her truck so she could be seen, head swiveling left and right to catch sight of approaching headlights. But nothing moved in either direction through the dreary blue-gray morning misted by sleet. The only light, other than her own vehicle, came from a house across the valley. That faint light might as well have been from a star. Too far away to help her.

After a few miserable seconds more, Jori realized the engine sounds she heard were coming from the wreckage. That sent a shudder through her . Movie and video images of exploding autos papered her thoughts. Fuel leaks igniting. Greasy engine parts catching fire.

“No. Focus, dammit.” The shouted words brought her back to reality. An empty freezing stretch of roadway. Sheet bouncing in micro beads off her face. No other human sound in the world. Only the musical tinkle in the overhead branches of freezing rain turning into ice crystals.