No Going Back (22 page)

Not unless there was still a spark of life left in Samuel.

I walked quickly for the front door, holding both my and Carson’s guns ready, because if Samuel had survived his wounds he might take a second try at me.

That eventuality didn’t come about. Even as I approached the exit door, I could hear the roar of a vehicle powering across the desert towards the ranch. Stepping outside, I watched gumball lights strobe across the desert, blue, red and white, causing the rocks they touched to appear like they flickered and jumped.

Good, I thought. Jay managed to get safely to the police.

25

Officer Lewin was no calculating murderer, and Jay understood now that his actions were driven by panic after his sergeant had challenged him on his part in the Logans’ schemes. He hadn’t thought through the shooting of Espinoza, had merely reacted with violence the second he thought that the game was up. She didn’t believe he’d taken part in the kidnapping of any of the women who’d ended up at the ranch, but he was stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place. Like he’d said to the sergeant, blood is thicker than water. He likely suspected that his kin were involved, but had swayed any investigation away from them out of familial loyalty. One thing she was positive of was that he hadn’t taken as much as a look at their ranch when Helena Blackstock’s husband had reported her missing. The chains in the barn, the holes in the ground: all would have been dead giveaways that the Logan men were keeping prisoners there.

The sergeant had also intimated that Lewin had given false alibis for the men, and had put him off searching the ranch. How could a man who’d sworn to protect and defend the people under his care do such a thing? It was obvious: he cared more for the Logans than he did anyone else. In some dim recess of her mind, Jay could understand why. Family loyalty was important to her too, but if she suspected her father of committing something as heinous as what the Logans were up to, she could never hold her peace. Or could she? No. It was an alien notion to her, protecting monsters. She would have to tell someone.

Lewin had snapped his cuffs on to her wrists, thrown her in the back seat of his radio car. The seat was hard and flat with little give and she bounced with each jolt of the vehicle as Lewin powered it across the desert. She tried to sit upright, but, having her hands clasped between her knees, her balance was off, so instead she’d turned in order to brace her back against one door. Lewin was a hazy figure beyond the thick Perspex screen that separated the compartments. The plastic was almost opaque with scratches and graffiti etched by previous prisoners, yet she could still see that he was sitting tense in the driver’s position, and she could hear him muttering to himself. She’d already tried to reason with him, but her pleading had gone ignored, and in the end she knew that he was beyond sense and had given up. The closer they got to the ranch, the more agitated he grew and on a couple of occasions she’d heard him snap out a curse that she thought was aimed at himself, or maybe at his kin for forcing him into this position.

He’d murdered his sergeant, for God’s sake! Bundling Espinoza into Joe’s Yukon, he’d rammed a cloth into the gas tank and set it ablaze. He’d watched as the tank erupted and the SUV went up like a torch. He’d crowed that he’d frame Hunter for murdering the sergeant, but that was ridiculous: the ballistics report would prove otherwise. Then there was the fact that she would tell what really happened, but she understood what that meant. He was returning her to the beasts who’d tortured her. If he were to get away with this she couldn’t be allowed to live, and this time the Logans wouldn’t waste time with torture. He wasn’t acting rationally; every action he performed was only making things worse for him – and far worse for her.

Night had descended as if a blanket had been draped over the sun, but she could still make out the landscape and recognised the mushroom-shaped mountain Hunter had led her past earlier. Travelling at this speed, her life could be counted in minutes. Before long the ranch would come into view and soon after she’d be thrown down at the feet of the murderous family. She couldn’t just sit there and allow Lewin to deliver her to her prospective murderers. But what could she do?

‘Officer, please! You must know how insane this is?’

‘Shut up!’ Lewin slapped a palm against the Perspex.

‘You’re a police officer, for God’s sake!’

‘I was. But that’s over now, isn’t it? God damn it! Shut the hell up and let me think.’

‘Yes. Think. Think about what you are doing. You can’t go through with this. Can’t you see?’

‘I said
shut the hell up
!’

‘It’s not too late to save yourself.’

‘You’re not concerned for me. All you’re thinking of is saving your own worthless life. Now, for the last time, shut up, or I’ll stop the car right now and shoot you myself.’

‘Please!’

Jay’s plea was drowned out by a string of curses, the force of which was savage enough to push her down in her seat. Lewin was so frightened that she was sure he was on the verge of going through with his threat. She clamped down on her next words, turned her face so that he wouldn’t be able to view her in his mirrors. She didn’t want him to see her weeping. Ridiculous as it was, she didn’t want to be perceived as pitiful: if she was going to die it would be with a challenge in her stance. She’d tried reasoning with him, so it was time for something else. She must fight back. But what was she going to do when her hands were linked by steel cuffs? She couldn’t think like that. When she’d been imprisoned in the box she’d been in a far more precarious position than she was now. She’d managed to escape then, and though Hunter had later helped, she was sure that she would have done all right relying solely on her own wits.

When Officer Lewin had thrown her inside the radio car, he had been thinking like a criminal, not an officer of the law. That very fact had served her well, because there was something about her that the man did not know. It was her only chance for escaping his clutches and launching a counterattack against his kinsmen. If she was to die in the process, then so be it. She’d grown the balls her dad advocated, and she sure as hell was going to use them rather than let the men have their own way. With her head dipped for another reason now, she slipped her chained wrists around her side, concealing her movements with her body. Occasionally she glanced up, but Lewin was heedless of her, still lost in the panic in his own mind. Good, she thought, keep on panicking and let me prepare myself. Suddenly he demanded her attention: he flicked on the bar lights on the roof of the car and, if anything, sped up as he neared the ranch buildings. The light play of different hues danced across the desert floor, giving the landscape a surreal cast. He was announcing his arrival to his family, maybe via a prearranged signal. She was loath to look, but she twisted her head so she could press her cheek to one of the windows. Within a couple of hundred yards of the ranch the buildings were reflecting the gumball lights and it took a moment for her to differentiate one flickering shadow from the next.

Lewin grunted something she failed to catch, though it was definitely an oath. He began to slow down, but at the last second span the car to the left, and the movement flung her across the seat. Jay was struggling back up when he braked, dust clouds whirling and conspiring with the lights to block her view. Still, she saw the figure come out of the door of the main house, holding a revolver over his head. The gun was upside down, hanging by one finger through the trigger guard. He showed the gun to Lewin, and then bent slowly to place it on the floor of the porch. The dust and the strobe-like effect of the lights made the figure judder in her vision, but she was certain it wasn’t one of the Logans. It was Joe Hunter.

Her benefactor was stepping out, trusting that it was safe to relinquish his weapon now that the police had arrived on the scene. Officer Lewin was already getting out of the car, and Jay saw him snap his service pistol out of its holster. Lewin twisted so that he was leaning over the top of his door, his gun aimed directly at Hunter’s chest. ‘Police!’ he yelled. ‘Stand still and show me both hands.’

Hunter lifted his open palms. He took a step away from the revolver and then set his hands on the top of his head. He stood stock still, returning Lewin’s gaze. ‘Everything’s OK now, Officer. It’s over with.’

‘Not yet it isn’t.’

Jay heard Lewin’s whisper, but no way could Hunter have. Lewin leaned into the door further, and Jay knew what was coming next.

She’d never doubted Hunter’s word. He promised her he’d return to the ranch and free Nicole and Ellie. It looked like he’d done exactly that, but to what effect when he was now stuck there like a sitting duck while Lewin was lining him up for a killing shot? She could see it now, a bullet punching into his chest, knocking him down on the stoop of the house, never to rise again. With Hunter dead, what hope would the three women have then? She could not let that happen. Her screech was wordless and high-pitched, but it was all the warning she could summon.

Before the scream had tailed off she heard the bang of Lewin’s pistol. She jerked her head, as if she’d the supersonic power to follow the trajectory of the bullet, but she had no hope of that. Before her head was even halfway to the target she saw in her peripheral vision Hunter falling to the ground, and the timbre of her scream changed from one of defiance to one of despair. Her head continued to track, her eyes widening, expecting to see the splash of blood as Hunter rebounded off the deck.

But that wasn’t how it happened.

Hunter wasn’t falling. He was in a controlled drop, both knees spreading wide as he squatted low and to one side. His hands had dropped from his head: one out to the side to steady him, the other thrusting under the tail of his shirt. In a blur his hand came out from under his shirt, swung up and she saw the flash of his return shot a second before the sound wave hit the car. Again she could not follow the play of gunfire, but she heard the corresponding whack of Hunter’s bullet strike Lewin. Lewin gasped, cursed and then staggered back to place the car firmly between him and Hunter. His body was jammed up against the window next to her face, and she saw where Hunter’s bullet had struck his Kevlar vest. Lewin fired back, yelling something animalistic, even as he reached for the handle of her door. She guessed what he was thinking, and this time she was right. He tore the door open and reached for her, intent on using her as a shield against Hunter’s bullets.

No way was she going to let that happen. Jay threw herself across the back seat, kicking at his arms as he reached for her. Lewin was too distracted, trying to watch where Hunter was, and her heel painfully struck his forearm. He swore, yanking his arm out of the way. The respite was momentary, because he then swung his gun hand inside to take its place. ‘I don’t need you out of the fucking car to kill you,’ he yelled.

His words were meant for the two of them, and if they didn’t work on Hunter she would never know if she didn’t do something
now
.

Jay lunged across the seat, pulling out of concealment the knife that Hunter had given her hours earlier. She had it clasped between both fists, the blade spearing towards Lewin’s arm. Lewin couldn’t watch them both at the same time, and she was certain that he’d be more intent on a gunman than a seemingly helpless woman. But then, she wasn’t always right.

The boom of Lewin’s pistol sounded like an atomic detonation within the confines of the car.

26

Something had been troubling me for some time and it seemed that my suspicions were correct. I recalled the first occasion I’d met Officer Lewin at the burned-out husk of Peachy’s gas station. Then I’d thought him a good man, someone who could help, but in his words there’d been a note of warning, and also one of suspicion. When he’d allowed Helena Blackstock’s name to slip into our conversation a flicker of unease had passed across his features. At the time I’d decided he was inwardly berating himself for admitting that there was a problem with missing women within his jurisdiction, but I knew otherwise now and it went deeper than that. Scott Blackstock said the police had visited the Logan ranch and their search had come up empty. Well, the cop responsible must have been blind, because the chains in the barn weren’t a new addition and it was clear what they were used for. More likely the cop knew about the Logans and their unhealthy fascination with certain women and had turned a blind eye.

On first arrival at the ranch I’d conducted the shortest of searches and discovered the barn, the lean-to where Jameson Walker’s SUV was hidden, and the pit where Jay had been chained. The SUV wouldn’t have been a factor when Helena went missing, but there sure as hell hadn’t been a search conducted here since the gas station robbery. Considering that the Logans were known as the local hellraisers any cop worth his salt would have paid them a visit; and seeing as this was Lewin’s neighbourhood, it stood to reason that it should have been within his remit.

I’d no idea what hold the Logans had over him, but I could make a good guess. Recalling that ninety-five per cent of the local population was Navajo, it made sense that of the remainder a proportion would have family ties. Was it a stretch to think that the Lewin and Logan clans were not far removed? Made me wonder about Carson’s wife, and what her maiden name had been.

It was a pity that I hadn’t formed this opinion until after I’d sent Jay to fetch the police, and it had only firmed in my mind once I saw the reaction from Nicole when I told her what I’d done. I had intended asking Nicole about that reaction but too many things had taken precedence and it had slipped my mind; now I wondered if she’d overheard the Logans discussing their law enforcement ally.