Nothing Is Negotiable (19 page)

“It’s too late for that, because I know who you are. You’re Little John Standalone.”

His mouth fell open in shock. “How do you know who I am?”

“In the clinic I talked to your father and he told me your name. You were listening to your iPod and probably didn’t hear him.”

Little John closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. He sighed, and said, “I’m telling you the truth. They promised me from the beginning, no one would get hurt.” He was silent a moment and watched her as she watched him. “If I don’t show up with you, your husband’s dead. I’m sure of that.”

Bonnie glanced back at the road that disappeared into the forest. The dust had settled. She knew that all she had to do was drive away and she was free.

Her logical mind told her not to trust this guy. They’d been holding her captive for three days. Threatening to kill her if she didn’t obey their every command.

However, for some reason she didn’t understand, she felt as if Luke’s life depended on the decision she made in the next ten seconds.

The palms of her hands were clammy and she rubbed them on her shorts while Little John wiped the blood that dripped from his nose.
Should I risk my life and take a chance?
Her brain said, no, but her heart said yes.

“I don’t understand.”

Calmly he said, “You will.”

Luke got back in the Jeep and checked the clock. 1:28. He had four hours and thirty-two minutes to be exactly where they wanted him to be. The map they provided said it would take two hours and forty-eight minutes if he went through Glacier National Park. But, it was the peak of the tourist season and roads would be crowded. It would be best to get on the road as soon as he could. But he needed his passport, and it was back at the bunkhouse.

When he got back to the ranch and as he started to gather what he wanted to take, he spotted a knife. It was a classic Buck with a four-inch folding blade. He pulled it out and immediately remembered the note. It said no weapons.
Screw ’em,
he thought. They’d have weapons.

As he started to leave an uncomfortable feeling in his gut told him something wasn’t right. He shot a glance over by the foot of the bed and noticed Bonnie’s suitcase was not where he had put it.

The bunkhouse was small and it took less than a minute to search every corner, behind every door, under every bed and inside both closets. It wasn’t there. He scratched his head and wondered if his memory was failing him.

No, he distinctly remembered carrying the camera bag with the shoulder strap and a suitcase in each hand. His memory was fine.

But who took it? Lauren? No. She had no reason to take it.

A common thief would have taken the camera bag with well over ten thousand dollars worth of equipment. It had to be them, whoever had Bonnie.

Someone had been here while he was in town. They were watching his every move.

As he stared at the empty spot where the suitcase had been he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The front door was slowly opening. As he reached for his hunting knife, Buddy and Elvis came in, tails wagging. Buddy trotted over and dropped a long stick at Luke’s feet with playful energy about him.

“Not now, boy,” he said, giving Buddy a quick scratch between the ears.

A minute later Luke was back in the Jeep, but had yet to leave. A pang of guilt crossed his mind when he thought about all Lauren had done for him. In a short time, she had become a true friend and leaving without explanation didn’t feel right.

He pulled the pictures of Bonnie out of the envelope and looked at them again. None of this made any sense. Odds were ten to one he was walking into a trap and no one knew anything about it. What if they didn’t come back? No one would ever know that Bonnie was abducted.

Luke tapped the pictures on the steering wheel while he tried to decide what to do.

Someone has to know what was going on, and the only one he trusted was Lauren.

He pulled a pen out of the console, grabbed the envelope and ran back into the bunkhouse. Over at the table he laid the note and the photos. On the back of the envelope he wrote a brief message.

He went back out to the Jeep and strapped on his seatbelt. It was 2:15. He had three hours and forty-five minutes to get to Whitefish.

In St. Mary, Luke saw a road sign pointing to the right for Glacier National Park via the Going-to-the-Sun Road. The 52 mile highway traversed the park. It had been one of the reasons they came to Montana. Bonnie heard it was one of the most beautiful drives in America. From the glacial lakes and cedar forest in the lowland valleys to the windswept tundra at the pass on the continental divide, the sights were supposed to be incredible to behold. They expected it to be the pinnacle of their trip. But now, he dreaded the drive.

At the entrance, he paid the ranger for a one-day pass and fell in formation behind the long line of tourists beginning their trek across the park.

As expected, the traffic was heavy. For the first seven miles the road traced the wooded shore of St. Mary’s Lake where scenic turnouts held postcard-like lake views and short hikes to waterfalls. Steep mountains bordered the vivid blue waters of the narrow lake, but as the road began its ascent, the view began to change.

The road hugged the mountainside, and breathtaking scenery revealed itself around every curve. Rocky streams punctuated by cascading waterfalls gave way to the incomparable vistas of the Rocky Mountains that no photograph could ever totally capture. Luke’s thoughts were of Bonnie five days earlier and her anticipation of driving this historic highway.

Traffic was slow but he got to the west entrance of the park in two hours and forty-five minutes. He went through the small towns of West Glacier, Hungry Horse, Columbia Falls, and finally into Whitefish.

On the other side of town he turned on High Meadow Road and followed it for six miles until he came to the defunct Elk River Cabinet Shop. As instructed, he pulled into the parking lot and checked the time. 5:30. He’d wait there for the next half hour before going the final mile.

Time passed at a snail’s pace but finally at five minutes before six, he stepped behind the Jeep to relieve himself. A breeze howled through the treetops, breaking the silence that hung over the forest. It was then he realized that only two cars had come down the road since he stopped. If they wanted to kill them both, this was a perfect place. But that didn’t make sense. They had brought him and Bonnie over here for a reason. Now it was time to find out why.

He got in the Jeep and drove a couple hundred yards further to a road with no name, only a bullet-ridden sign that said
Dead End
. He took it.

Half a mile down the road he came to a dilapidated frame house with a free-standing garage. It looked as if it had been abandoned a decade ago. The sagging roof was missing shingles, and was littered with pine needles. On either side of the front door the windows were broken, and dingy green drapes hung mostly closed, hiding what waited inside.

In the front yard a sign for Dream Home Real Estate was propped against one of the trees near the road. Whoever put the bullet holes in the
Dead End
sign also found this sign a good target. The sign had a picture of a realtor on it with a big smile and short dark hair. Her eyes had been shot out, along with most of her teeth.

As instructed, he parked in the driveway and checked his watch. 6:00.

Just before he opened the car door he reached under the driver’s seat and felt for the hunting knife. It was wedged between the fabric of the seat and the cushion. One last time he considered putting it in his sock, but again his gut feeling told him they’d find it.

He got out of the Jeep and stood in the shade of the towering pine trees. The air was humid and warm with an eerie silence that could almost be heard. Directly in front of the Jeep was the garage. It was old and dilapidated and looked like it might crumble to the ground any day now. He noticed the side door was open, so he slowly walked over to peek inside. It was dark but suddenly his eyes caught a flash of white and a loud screech came toward him. A huge owl left its perch in the rafters and swooped down toward the open door where Luke stood. He dodged and fell back, landing on his butt as the huge bird flew within inches of him as it escaped toward the dense forest behind the house.

Luke rolled over onto his hands and knees and tried to calm his jittered nerves as he stared into the thicket of trees where the bird had disappeared. He stood and brushed himself off, then turned his focus to the house. As he walked toward the front porch, his heart pounded with anticipation of something more sinister.

The front porch was a small rectangular slab of concrete, littered with yellowed newspapers and a doormat that might have once said Welcome. Sticking out of the front door were business cards from realtors, all tattered and curled by time.

This door hasn’t been opened for years,
he thought.
And no one has been in the driveway.
It didn’t seem right.

Luke’s mouth was dry; he licked his lips as he twisted the handle. The latch released and the door sprung inward. Like dead leaves in autumn, the business cards floated to the ground.

He held his breath, pushed the door open wider, and peeked cautiously around it.

The room was empty and dark. Dried leaves and animal droppings adorned the worn carpet that matched the lifeless curtains. He took two steps inside and stopped.

“Hello?”

No answer.

“Hello. Is anyone here?”

A muffled noise came from somewhere beyond.

On the back wall were two doors on the left side, both closed. Cautiously he went back and pushed on one. It opened, revealing a dark hallway where two rats skittered across the floor and through another open door further down. He pulled it closed and moved to the other door and pushed it open.

As the next room came into view he saw kitchen cabinets and a sink along the back wall. Hesitant, he spoke again.

“Hello?”

Again he heard it, but now closer and still muffled. He leaned in. Gagged and tied to a wooden chair in the middle of the room, he saw her.

Luke’s breath caught in his throat.

“Bonnie!” he said, rushing to her.

She wore the same clothes she had on the day she disappeared and looked tired and pale. A black nylon cord bound her legs to the chair and her arms were behind her. There was something covering her mouth that looked like duct tape.

Bonnie’s eyes locked on his and her head shook fast, from side to side. She moaned an urgent message but Luke didn’t understand. Looking around he saw nothing to fear. The room was empty—no stove, no refrigerator, no furniture, no nothing. He dropped to a knee in front of her and reached to pull the tape from her mouth.

At that instance, her eyes went wide and the anxious moans turned to a muffled scream as she peered over his shoulder. His head spun around to see the pantry door on the back wall had opened and an arm extended toward him. A gun was pointed at his back.

His reaction felt like slow motion as he tried to move away, but it was too late. The gunman fired.

Luke screamed and Bonnie saw his entire body go rigid. She watched as the gunman, whose head was covered by a Halloween mask that bore a resemblance to Albert Einstein, rushed toward Luke. Then behind her, she heard steps and something was pulled over her head, and the room went dark. Her breath caught in her chest as footsteps moved around her and the sounds of people struggling with Luke.

He groaned again and mumbled some words of protest. Someone said, “Hit him again.”

Again, Luke groaned loudly.

Bonnie desperately squirmed and twisted, trying to break free of her bindings, but they were too tight.

“Don’t fight us or we’ll taser you again,” a command came. “Next time it’ll be longer and harder.”

She could hear his breathing. It was heavy and labored, but now it didn’t sound like he was fighting them.

Movement continued around her and a minute later they instructed him, “Sit still and don’t move.”

A few seconds later the bag covering Bonnie’s head was jerked off.

Now Luke sat in a chair about six feet in front of her. His arms and legs were tied the same as hers. Strips of gray tape covered his eyes and another covered his mouth. His breathing was labored and his chest heaved with every intake.

It terrified Bonnie and she twisted from side to side, trying to signal their captors that he couldn’t breathe.

She could hear them behind her, breathing hard, too. They were winded. Fighting with Luke and then getting him in his chair must have worn them out.

When she tried to look behind her, a vise-like grip clenched the back of her neck, forcing her head to face forward.

She winced as a raspy voice behind her said, “Don’t turn around, understand?”

Bonnie nodded, cringing in pain.

“We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if you don’t cooperate,” he said. “If you do as we say, both of you will be released soon. Do you understand?”

Bonnie and Luke nodded.

“This is very simple. Bonnie has an errand to run for us. If you do as we say and everything goes well, both of you will be released unharmed. But, if Bonnie doesn’t do exactly as we say, Luke will be punished. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Bonnie watched Luke’s chest heave as he heard their demands. His head moved slightly from side to side, as if he was trying to send her a message.

The masked man stepped over to Luke and slugged him hard in the face. Luke’s head flew back, then snapped forward. She heard a defiant growl from deep in his chest.

“Are you going to cooperate?”

Luke lifted his chin higher, but said nothing.

Without a word, Einstein hit him again.

Blood began to flow from Luke’s nose.

“I’ll ask you again. Are you going to cooperate?”

Luke gave a slight nod.

Einstein looked at his partner behind Bonnie and said, “I don’t think we’ve convinced him yet. Give him another hit.”

From behind Bonnie, an arm extended forward and the taser gun was fired again. Wires flew into Luke’s chest, causing his body to stiffen once more. He began to scream through the tape. She watched as a tremor ricocheted through his body. He jerked to the side, which caused the chair to topple over. Luke’s head bounced as it hit the linoleum floor.

“No!” Bonnie wailed through the tape.

Einstein leaned close to Luke and said, “If you don’t change your attitude, we’ll start on your wife next. Got it?”

Luke lay still, inhaling deeply. He shook his head.

“And you listen, bitch, if you do not do as we say, your husband will pay. Is that clear?”

Bonnie clenched her teeth and nodded.

“Okay,” the man with the gun said. “I’ll ask you one more time—Are you going to do what we say or do we need to continue?”

Bonnie nodded vigorously and Luke gave two slow nods.

“That’s better.”

A piece of tape was put over Bonnie’s eyes and pressed hard into place. Something, probably a pillowcase, was slipped back over her head and secured around her neck.

Einstein pulled off his mask and dropped it on the floor. It was Pete Coley, the agent from the border crossing just south of Cardston. Sonny Diamond, who had stayed out of sight, also pulled off his mask, and then gave Pete a nod.

They removed the tape that held Bonnie to the chair and walked her outside where a van was just pulling up in front of the house. The driver, Rita, got out and ran back to open the back door. They pulled out two long wooden boxes with VIDEO EQUIPMENT stenciled on all sides. They opened one and laid Bonnie down inside it, secured the latches on it, then put it back inside the back of the van.

Sonny and Pete went back inside and got Luke and brought him outside and put him into the other crate. They loaded his crate into the van beside Bonnie’s.