Finder's Fee (26 page)

Ten minutes passed like an hour, their trek ending with them hunkered behind an oleander bush peering at the bunk-house. They still heard nothing and saw even less.

“Looks empty,” Judith whispered.

“Only one way to find out.” They exchanged glances. Luke looked pale and uncertain. She could almost smell his fear and wondered if the terror she felt was as apparent as his. He took a couple of deep breaths, looked from side to side, then exchanged the shelter of the forest for the open gravel-covered ground that surrounded the buildings. A second later, Judith followed, wishing her shoes made less noise on the gravel.

Luke moved in a crouch and Judith mimicked the motion. When she reached the deck and stairs that bridged the distance from ground to raised floor, Judith's heart pounded like a piston and every nerve tingled. For a moment she thought her stomach would give up its contents. More than anything, she wanted to be far away from this place; to be in the comfort
of her home or even her office. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this. For a handful of seconds, Luke's pleading that she stay in the car with Ida and Abel made impeccable sense. But that was then; this was now. She had made her choice and would now have to live with it.

Like a cat on uncertain ground, Luke moved up the stairs first, Judith two seconds behind him. She calmed her breathing and listened for sounds inside. Nothing.

The door to the building had seen better days. Its edges were worn and its face scarred. An aluminum vertical sliding window allowed a view inside. Judith stood behind Luke as he took a quick look through the filthy pane and immediately snapped his head back. A moment later, he looked again, this time lingering. Judith could see his shoulders relax.

He reached for the dented and crooked doorknob and gave it a turn. It moved easily and without noise. Judith hoped the hinges would be as cooperative. The metal protested only slightly as Luke pulled the door open and slipped inside. Judith took charge of the door and quietly closed it.

They stood in a mudroom, a small space where one could shake snow and mud from their feet before entering the main area of the building. It also provided a buffer against the entrance of cold air in the winter. Once again they faced an identical door and window. Luke gazed in for what seemed like half an hour. Judith knew that only seconds had passed.

Again, Luke tried the doorknob and pulled open the door.

Stale air, filled with the dust of decaying wood, assaulted their senses. Luke moved inside taking steps like a barefoot man on broken glass. He held the door for Judith and she entered.

Dust covered everything. Spiders had made homes in the darker corners. They were the only inhabitants. Bunk beds lined both walls making use of every foot of wall space that had no window. It reminded Judith of boot-camp barracks she had seen in old military movies — a fondness held by her late husband and something she endured.

The dust on the floor had been disturbed by many feet — small feet, although Judith could make out adult-size shoe prints. Blankets were on the bed, left from the last campers to pass through the place, the owners not taking the time to remove the bed coverings when they abandoned the camp. The sheets and bedspreads were jumbled and askew. Judith approached one bed and could see a thin layer of dust on the corner of the sheets and the pillows.

On the floor next to the beds were hamburger wrappers and empty french fry bags from McDonald's. Paper cups with plastic straws littered the floor. Judith picked up one of the wrappers and studied it, then raised it to her nose. “These are recent. There's no dust on the wrappers and I can still detect the smell of hamburger.”

“I guessed as much.”

“That means the kids slept in these filthy beds.” The thought disgusted her.

“I don't see any belongings. No clothing, no toys, nothing.” He took a few steps. “There's a bathroom here.” He went in then came back out. “Typical bunkhouse-style bathroom. There's a couple of showers but the floor is bone-dry as are the sinks. I didn't see any toothbrushes or combs. The kids brought nothing with them, which just further proves the abduction point.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” She dropped the food wrapper. “At least we know one place they're not.”

“Time to move to the next building. The one where we saw the movement. I think you should stay here.”

“And I think you need to give up that line. It's not working and it isn't going to work anytime soon.”

“Can't blame a man for trying.”

“I appreciate your concern, Luke. I really do. It's sweet in a hundred different ways. Now stop it.”

This time Judith took the lead, walking through the bunk-house and toward the doors on the opposite side of those through which they entered.

The next building, she knew, would not be empty.

T
his time it was Judith who paused at the windowed door and surveyed the scene on the other side. The only motion she detected was the start-and-stop dash of a squirrel. Laying hand to doorknob, Judith wondered if Terri was praying for her. The thought flashed like a strobe in her mind and even though it lasted only a moment, it brought a measure of satisfaction and hope. She wondered if she started praying now if God would know who she was. Terri would tell her, “Of course.” Judith hoped her assistant was right.

The coolness of the knob seeped into her skin. Again, her senses had gone on hyper-alert. She could feel the blood streaming through veins and arteries. Her breathing became shallow. She forced deep inhalations, and then held her breath
as she pulled the door open. Thankfully, no squeaky hinges. That settled it. Terri had to be praying.

Judith slipped outside, glanced around again, then made her way down the steps, across the ground and up similar steps to a porch on the next building. Luke moved so quietly, Judith had to turn to see if he was still with her.

This was the building she assumed to be the dining hall. The door on this structure was the same as the bunkhouse but it also had a screen, probably to keep flying insects out of the cooking area. A screen meant another source of possible noise, another set of hinges that could groan with movement and give away their position.

As Luke had done before her, Judith took a quick look through the windowed door then moved back. She had spent less than a second glancing inside. No people were apparent, just a kitchen. She slipped her hand into the screen door's handle and moved it one inch. No noise. She moved it another —

BAM.

Judith would have screamed if her lungs held enough air. Instead, she closed her eyes and bit her lip. The noise sounded like a gun going off and images of a dead child rushed into her unprotected mind. Then she heard a voice, somewhat distant.

Luke patted her shoulder and breathed in her ear, “Screen door slamming.”

Judith's bones seemed to melt. Her knees shook and her heart no longer beat, it rolled like a ball within her. All at the same time, she wanted to swear, pray, weep, and scream. There was no logic to it, just a pure, raw emotion looking for escape.

Luke moved back down the stairs like a mime in slow motion. Judith gave him a questioning look. He held two fingers to his eyes and pointed at the corners. He planned to look around the edge of the building. He did then returned. “Pennington. Just him.”

They had found the right place, but it brought her no comfort. For a while, she could tell herself that no one was here; that they had come to the wrong place; that they were still safe and secure.

That thought shattered.

Judith pulled the screen door open halfway and reached for the doorknob. The door opened easily and both stepped inside the kitchen. Luke feathered the door closed behind them. Moving across the wood floor they came to a pair of double metal doors like those in a restaurant. Judith stepped to the side of one door and Luke took the other.

One look told her what she wanted to know: the children were there, sitting on benches at long tables, quiet, almost stone still. One man, smaller than that Pennington character but with a look that made Judith uncomfortable, paced in the room. The children watched him as if he were a television show.

Judith telegraphed a questioning glance at Luke who just shrugged. Luke motioned her to the back door. “I'm going in. The guy's pacing like an expectant father.”

“More like a tiger in a cage.”

“We can argue metaphors later. Like I said, I'm going to slip in when his back is turned and see if I can't subdue him one way or another. If I can, I'll have a better chance of stalling Pennington while you get the kids out.”

“And what do I do with them?”

“Slip into the forest and hide, unless — can you drive a bus?”

Judith shook her head. “You've got to be kidding. I drive an automatic transmission for a reason. Are you sure you can take this guy? When was the last time you were in a fight?”

“You know that. You were there last night.”

“I was there. That wasn't a fight. It was a beating. I mean, when was the last time you exchanged blows with another person?”

He looked down. “Third grade.”

“Tell me you won.”

“No. She beat me.”

Judith rubbed her forehead. “If we weren't in such danger, I'd find that hilarious.”

“I'm open to ideas. What have you got in that business head of yours? Maybe you could subdue him with a discussion of midcentury modern architecture.”

“I don't have any ideas.”

“Look, Judith. I'm not trying to be a hero. I'm doing my best to keep from running into the woods screaming like a preschooler, but something has to be done and I don't see any other options.”

Luke started for the double doors when Judith took his arm. He stopped. For an eternal second they stared at each other, then Judith stepped forward and gave him a hug, burying her face in his chest. “Be careful.”

The door to the eating hall moved only enough for Luke to sneak through. Every brain cell in his head screamed about the stupid course of action he had chosen to follow. It was too late now. There would be no turning back.

Staying in a crouch, Luke moved to the end of the closest table. The table was empty, and the children were being grouped at the other end of the hall. At this distance, the table provided enough cover but Luke felt exposed. Once he left this perch, he would be in full view of the man guarding the kids.

If he was going to act he would have to do so soon. Pennington could return at any moment and Luke knew he couldn't handle both men. Pennington didn't seem the kind of man to let bygones be bygones.

He lifted his head above the top edge of the table and saw his target staring out the window, no doubt watching Pennington talk on the phone. Luke wished for a weapon, but the best he could see was a plastic knife. He doubted he could deliver more than a stinging scratch with it. He needed something more, something creative. With his mind snapping back and forth from idea to idea, Luke finally settled on the only thing he felt might be advantageous — a pepper shaker, one of the many remnants left behind by the owners. The shaker, a thick glass cylinder, lay on its side just within reach. After another quick check to be certain he wasn't being observed, Luke rose, seized the shaker, and resumed his crouch behind the table.

He fumbled with it and noticed his hands were shaking. It took three attempts, but Luke separated the top from the body of the shaker. Relief gave him a half-moment of joy before terror reassumed the throne.

Luke filled his left hand with black granules and held the glass shaker in his right.
This is crazy. This is stupid. I've lost my mind.

He stood. He set his eyes on the man he planned to attack. He started forward.

In unison, the children turned to face him. Not one spoke; not one pointed.

Moving as fast as he could and stepping as quietly as possible, Luke sped forward.

When just a foot away, the man turned. “What — ?”

Luke threw the pepper in the man's face. His aim proved on target. The pepper filled both eyes. The victim raised his hands and started to let out a scream, but Luke cut it off with a blow to the belly. He could hear the air rush from the man's lungs. Luke landed one more blow, this time to the back of the neck. The man dropped like a tree.

Luke's heart pumped his blood at racetrack speed. A sense of accomplishment rose in the darkness of fear, but he paid it no mind. It was no time to gloat.

“Come on, kids. That way.” He kept his voice low and pointed to the back of the hall, back to the kitchen. “Hurry.”

Judith opened the doors and motioned the children to her. “Come this way, children. Follow me. This way. Hurry … Luke!”

The warning came a half second too late. The door behind him swung open and slammed the wall. Luke spun and saw Pennington, his face frozen in fury. He looked down at his unconscious partner then back at Luke. His fists clinched into balls of iron.

Luke, who prided himself on his mind, his logic, his ability to reason through any problem, stopped thinking. Long buried instinct kicked in. Judith needed time. Luke would give it to her.

He charged.

He swung with a fist still clutching the glass shaker. It was a punch capable of dropping a heavyweight boxer, if it
landed. It didn't. Pennington shifted to the side and Luke's swing missed its mark by two feet.

Pennington's punch didn't.

As Luke caught his balance, a fist caught him square on the nose. The pain blinded him, water flooded his eyes, and he staggered back a step. Something warm and thick flowed across his lips. He raised his hands to his face. Another blow landed on the back of his hands sending pain racing through his arms like lightning.

“No more of you, pal,” Pennington said. “I have had my fill of your meddling.”

Something hit Luke in the ribs. It felt like a demolition ball but he knew it was the fist of the man beating him. Something cracked and fire blazed just below the skin. Luke dropped to his knees. A second later, he rose and faced Pennington, raising his hands like a boxer — displaying the courage of the desperate.