Hallowed Ground (43 page)

“She’s clean,” he said.

Footsteps faded.

A floodlight burst through the doorway, momentarily blinding me.

A new voice said: “Glad to see you finally learned how to read a clock, Ms. Collins. You made it in eighteen minutes this time.”

I blinked.

Not Linderman. Not Maurice Ashcroft.

Reggie.

I should’ve known. Any man with such bad taste in clothing had to be a slimy fucker.

My fear mixed with rage. “Where’s Chloe?”

No answer.

“I want to know now.”

Frankie Ducheneaux marched forward, around the light he’d set on the floor. Reggie jerked him back. “You will. In due time.”

He wanted to play games. Draw out the drama a bit. Well, too fucking bad. I wanted to see Chloe to make sure he hadn’t hurt her.

I focused on Frankie. Didn’t see that he had a gun, just the knife. “How much is he paying you, Frankie? How much did he pay you to sabotage this building? How much did he pay you to betray Rondelle?”

“He ain’t payin’ me nothin’.”

“You’re doing this for
free
? You have any idea how much time you’ll do for kidnapping?”

“Kidnapping? What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“Ignore her.” To me, Reggie said, “Maybe I should’ve gagged you first.”

“Maybe you should tell me where the hell Chloe is. I did exactly what you told me to. What else do you want?”

“To make sure you didn’t tell no one where you were going.” He considered me. “That freak Jimmer rolling up in his Hummer?”

“No.”

“How ’bout your buddy the sheriff?”

“No.”

“Burrito boy don’t know where you are?”

Not even the mention of Martinez’s name stopped the dread from growing. If he showed up it’d be too late. I found it hard to breathe.

Reggie jeered, “Knew you were a soft touch, pretending to be such a tough bitch. Figured mentioning the girl would get you here in a hurry.”

Then I knew. Chloe wasn’t here. She never had been here. Reggie had been bluffing.

Relief flowed through me. Followed by a river of fear.

I swallowed. “Well, Reg, gotta hand it to you; I fell for it.” I purposely let my eyes stray to the dark corner where the envelope holding the disk had landed. “I don’t imagine you’re gonna let me live, now that you’ve got what you want. Gonna kill me like you did your buddy Tommy? Or you gonna blow my head off like you did with Rondelle?” My eyes met Frankie’s and I took a chance. “And Luther Ghost Bear?”

Frankie’s startled gaze flew to Reggie.

“Didn’t know that, did you, Frankie? That your pal, Reg, blew away Luther’s face? Shot him in the chest first. And knowing the kind of wise guy Reg is, I’ll bet Reg laughed at him and tried to make Luther beg for his life.”

“Shut up,” Reggie said.

“Thing is, Luther probably willingly gave it—”

“You
shot
him?” Frankie yelled at Reggie, leaping between us. “You fuckin’ shot a Lakota holy man?”

“No, I didn’t shoot him. See what she’s—”

“If you din’t, who did, huh? Tell me! That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“Easy.” Aware Frankie wasn’t going to let it go, Reggie said, “Rancher named Maurice Ashcroft shot him, okay?”

“But you paid him,” I piped in while I had the chance. “They all knew you’d taken the Carlucci’s money. Rondelle and Luther because they’d seen the disk. Tommy probably saw you coming out of the office. Did he ask you for a cut? Or did he threaten to tell Big Joe about your disloyalty?”

“You said this wasn’t ’bout money!” Frankie railed, waving around the knife. “It’s ’bout keepin’

Bear Butte holy, and pure and safe from greed!”

I laughed. “And you believed him? Jesus, Frankie. It’s
always
about money.”

“Is it? Was everythin’ you told me a big fuckin’
lie
?”

“That’s how it is?” Reggie said patiently. “After all I’ve done for you, you’re gonna believe her now?”

Frankie turned sullen.

“Let me explain something. Sacrifices gotta be made, you knew that. They’ll make that dead holy man a symbol. Don’t you think that’s what he would’ve wanted? To further the cause of your people?

“Don’t listen to her. We’re still going through with it. You’re gonna be a hero, my man. After tonight no one will have the balls to question your loyalty again.”

That perked Frankie right up.

I wanted to vomit. Whatever Reggie had convinced Frankie to do didn’t have the approval of the Medicine Wheel Society.

“Everything’s set, right?” Reggie waited a beat, then said softly, “Hand me the knife, bro.”

Frankie passed it over.

“Go on outside and double check everything. Carefully. The way we talked about. We don’t need no surprises at this point.”

He slipped out the door.

“Nice performance,” I said.

“Shut up.” Reggie glared at me. “I’d like nothin’ better than to plug you in your big fuckin’

mouth. Maybe when he gets back I’ll drag you outside and do it.”

Even with my mouth dry from sheer terror, I said, “You sure he’s coming back? Doesn’t seem to me like he trusts you much.”

“Don’t matter. He’ll stick around until he gets what he wants.”

“Which is?”

“This place gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“Gone as in Kaboom!”

A bomb? There was a fucking bomb in here? Where?

He mocked my wild-eyed expression. “Don’t smell it, do you?”

“Smell what?”

“Propane.”

Oh Jesus.

“Don’t take much to leach the scent out. Even in new construction. Little trick I learned back east.”

Blood slammed into my head. The hissing sound I’d heard. An open valve from a propane tank.

Had Frankie shut it off when he heard me sneaking around behind the building? Or had that been the last hiss as the tank emptied?

The air in here had seemed heavier, but I’d attributed it to my fear, not liquid gas.

Holy hell. How much propane had they flooded this place with?

Like if I knew the exact ratio it would matter.

The volatile properties of propane danced in my mind. All it took was one tiny leak and ignition in one form or another. Fire. Electricity. Then boom.

No wonder he wouldn’t shoot me. A single spark and this place would blow.

I didn’t know the effects of breathing it; how long before I passed out? My muscles turned to jelly. God. I was going to die. Close to where Ben had.

I focused my hatred on Reggie. “Why? Why would you do this? You don’t give a fuck about this being holy land.”

He laughed. “You’re right.”

“What did you promise Frankie to sucker him into helping you?”

“I didn’t sucker him into anything. Was
his
idea. He wanted to prove himself to the Medicine Wheel Society. Just gave him some suggestions and the opportunistic fucker ran with it.”

“Suggestions like cutting my brake lines?”

“No. I did that. How’d you like the way
I
validate parking, smart ass bitch?”

“You tried to kill me for one little comment I made?”

An alligator smile. “I’ve killed for much less.”

“Then why’d you hire Maurice?”

“Ashcroft volunteered.” Reggie cracked his neck side to side. “Tommy helped him round up Rondelle and Luther. Tommy shouldn’t have pushed me ’bout getting a cut of the money.”

“What do you get out of it? Just the money you stole?”

“The money don’t mean shit; it was just an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Never was about the money.”

“Then what was it about?”

“Was about me getting to go home.”

“This is a
suicide
mission?”

“Jesus Christ, no. Last place I wanna die is in the middle of butt-fuck South Dakota. I’m talking about home to Jersey.”

He scowled at the door, then at me. “How can you people stand livin’ here? There’s no buildings, there’s no people. There’s no nothing. Don’t even have a decent sports team or restaurant within 400 miles. This place is nothing.”

“Gonna miss Jersey a lot goddamn more from a jail cell.”

His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “That right? How do you figure? You and Frankie won’t be nothing but pieces. Ashcroft, that trigger-happy fucker, gets his precious council seat, and his revenge for the money he lost over the shooting range deal. I guarantee he’ll keep his big trap shut.”

“No one will believe it.”

“Yeah? Other casino owners in Deadwood are already suspicious of the Carluccis. And Junior has stupidly dicked with the Hombres territory too.”

“Martinez won’t let this slide if it messes with his business plans.” Or with me.

“Asshole didn’t get caught with his hand in the cookie jar because the damn cops were jerking off, or he wouldn’t be a problem either.”

“You called him with the anonymous tip? Why?”

“Faster them bodies turned up the faster I can get outta here. Junior’s pissing his pants cause Big Joe thinks he done the murders, even though he ain’t got the balls. That, along with Junior letting 150K disappear, and Big Joe is finally ready to haul Junior’s ass back home. Once he does, my babysitting duties for that worthless motherfucker will be over for good.”

Took about ten seconds for the reality to sink in. “That’s what this was about? You had four people fucking murdered because you hated your
job
?” My voice remained steady even as my temper spiked. “Dozens of lives are decimated, businesses destroyed, property ruined, and holy land desecrated because you couldn’t get a goddamned canoli?”

He crossed the room and hauled me to my feet by my shirt. Shook me like a dog’s chew toy.

“Shut your goddamned mouth.”

I didn’t. “You’re forgetting one thing, Reg. When Big Joe finds out it was his trusted nanny who ripped him off, your life won’t be worth a wooden nickel. Here or in your beloved
Jersey
.”

“How will he find out, huh? You told Junior you had the disk. Now I have it.” His gaze flicked to where the envelope should have been. “Don’t tell me it’s a copy. Those security disks are encoded and can’t be copied.”

When I didn’t respond, he relaxed his hold on me.

“You’re not the only one who can bluff, fucker. Rondelle never gave me the disk. I don’t know where the hell it is.”

Disbelief lit his eyes. He roared and dropped me.

The knife flashed, pain followed.

I’d braced myself, but the spot where he slashed my left arm was quickly overshadowed by his right uppercut.

The Milky Way exploded behind my lids, burned in my mouth and down my throat. I dropped to my knees.

Oh God, it hurt, hurt, hurt. Jesus.

Reggie was muttering something behind me as he headed for the disk.

I didn’t have time to loll around in pain.

I crawled toward the portable light on the floor. Averted my eyes when I picked it up. Wobbled as I lifted it above my head. I backed up until the door was between Reggie and me.

Firming my grip, I aimed the light in his eyes.

“Stay right there, Reggie. You know there’s enough electricity in this battery to spark the propane.”

“Not much. You think I’m stupid enough to take a chance on blowing myself up?”

“Nothing is foolproof.”

He advanced, holding his hand in front of his face to shield the light. “You’re bluffing.”

“Not this time. I swear, I’ll fucking hurl it at the ground if you so much as breathe my direction again.”

“You won’t.”

“I will. If I’m going out in a blaze of glory, I’m taking you with me. I’d do it just to doom your black soul to spend eternity in butt-fuck South Dakota.”

That gave him pause.

Blood poured down my arm and dripped off my elbow to the concrete.

Our voices had brought Frankie back into the fold. When he saw me, he froze.

“Over there. Next to Reggie.” When he didn’t budge, I yelled, “Now!”

My arms were getting tired. If they saw me shaking, I’d be screwed.

With the deadly potential of one spark of static electricity ending the standoff, I eased backward slowly, one rubber-soled foot behind the other until I reached the doorframe. My heel caught on the weather stripping on the bottom, and for the briefest second, I bobbled the light.

They both dove for the ground.

I slipped out the door. Gently set down the light.

And ran like hell.

I’D MADE IT TO WHERE I STASHED MY PURSE WHEN I heard:

Click click click.

Whump.

BOOM!

And the building blew.

The ground shook. A pillar of fire shot into the air.

I curled into a ball and tried to protect myself from the heat and flying debris.

When I heard the crackle of flames, smelled smoke, I lifted my head and peered around the rock.

The building had blown. The whole damn thing POOF like it’d never been.

Jesus.

My lungs hurt. I didn’t know the potential hazards of sucking in propane instead of oxygen, but I wasn’t about to light a cigarette any time soon to find out.

Dazed, I stumbled to my feet.

It looked like a war zone, not a holy place.

Most of the wreckage began fifty yards from where I stood. Pieces of the roof littered the ground. The chunks of pink insulation fluttering in the air were reminiscent of scorched cotton candy. Slivers of wood poked out of the ground like pongee sticks. Shards of glass glistened in the red glow of fire.

The steel girders had peeled back, turning the building into a lopsided sardine can.

Why had the building blown?

Had Frankie decided to finish the job anyway?

With Reggie inside?

One could only hope.

I shivered. When I attempted to wrap my arms around myself a sharp sting reminded me Reggie had sliced my arm with the knife.

Glancing down, I saw blood oozing out. Hadn’t even scabbed over yet. Seemed like hours ago I’d been in the building.

The sticky red goo made my stomach pitch. My vision doubled.

I yanked off my T-shirt, teetered until my butt hit the rock. I tied it around the wound, figuring it’d hold until someone could stitch it up.

Any second I’d hear sirens. I debated on whether I had the energy to return to my truck when I heard a
whomp swish whomp swish.
Another explosion?