Princess (16 page)

“In a nutshell.”

Wind furrowed through the azalea bushes near the town square. Even with the window closed, Hawk could hear dead leaves skitter along the deserted sidewalk. “How much time do I have, Agent Lindstrom?”

A muscle tightened at her jaw. “Less than twenty-four hours, sir. After that, the deterioration of Princess’s organs will be irreversible.”

chapter
22

J
ess’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She had to keep reminding herself that Izzy knew what he was doing, and that Hawk was somewhere nearby, tracking them via cell phone. Meanwhile, she was determined not to trigger Luellen to more reckless behavior. Jess wasn’t sure if the woman was desperate for friends or if she was psychotic.

Izzy studied the gravel driveway and gray trailer that perched awkwardly at the top of a denuded hill.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Luellen swung open the car door.

“It must be quiet all the way out here.”

“You bet, and that’s just the way I like it.” Luellen slung her purse over her shoulder and stomped up the wooden steps to the trailer. “Come on, you two. I’ll get Ruthie and then we can go.”

Izzy fell back and leaned close to Jess. “Stay here,” he whispered. “Once she’s inside, sprint for the woods.”

Luellen turned and glanced back at them. “What are you two waiting for?”

Izzy smiled uncertainly. “Are you sure you want us to come inside?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

Jess waited tensely as Luellen opened the front door of the trailer, the gun still gripped at her side. “Ruthie!”

“Mom?” Bushes rustled at the back of the trailer. A girl in a red sweatshirt pushed through a row of azaleas. “Just wait till I tell you who came—” She stopped when she saw Jess and Izzy. “Who are you?”

“They’re my friends, that’s who.” Luellen glared at her daughter. “Have you been with that no-account boyfriend again?”

The girl swallowed hard. “Of course not, Mom. You told me not to, remember?”

“I know what I told you, and if I see that boy around here again, I’ll call the police on him. You’re both underage, and damned if I’ll let you sneak off into the woods so he can fumble at your clothes.”

“But, Mom, I don’t—”

“Hush. We’ve got company. Say hello.”

“Hello,” Ruthie said stiffly. “Why are you carrying that gun, Mom? You promised me you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

Luellen sniffed. “Too many people driving past the Laundromat late at night, honey. Something damned strange about it.” Luellen patted her daughter’s arm awkwardly. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. Go get your sweater because we’re all going out for barbecue.”

Ruthie eyed Izzy and Jess uncertainly. “Are they from town, Mom? I mean—they don’t look familiar.”

Jess shot a glance at Izzy. Strangely, Ruthie seemed to have more sense than her mother.

“Just met them today, but they’re real nice people. C’mon. Let’s go.”

Ruthie fingered her big bookbag. “Sure, but first I gotta feed my animals. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

She didn’t wait for permission, but raced toward an unpainted wooden shed with a single high window and vanished into a side door.

Luellen snorted. “Her precious animals. As the Lord is my witness, that girl treats those animals like they were her best friends.” She frowned. “I guess she gets lonely, living all the way out here. Her creep of a father keeps trying to take her back to Seattle, but I won’t let him have her. Not as long as I can draw breath.”

“She looks smart,” Izzy said. “Real nice, too.”

Ruthie appeared at the door of the shed, locked it carefully, then ran across the grass. “All done, Mom. Let me dump my books.” She raced up the steps and into the house.

Luellen’s mouth curved. “Smart as a whip, that’s a fact. Got straight
A
’s on her last report card. Lord knows, she doesn’t get her brains from me. All I gave her was spunk.”

Jess struggled not to gape, surprised by Luellen’s show of maternal pride and insight. Then she heard L.Z. bump Izzy’s leg, whimpering low at the back of the throat.

Luellen backed up slowly. “There goes that dog of yours again. You sure she isn’t sick?”

Izzy stroked the dog, but L.Z. remained rigid. “She just gets upset around strangers, or she might smell Ruthie’s animals. It’s protective instinct.” Izzy’s voice was calm, but his shoulders were tense, his eyes carefully scanning every inch of the terrain around them.

It had to do with the dog, Jess realized. Whenever the dog reacted to something, Izzy seemed to go on alert. And he looked wired now, as if braced for hostile action.

Ruthie rushed back minus her bookbag. “Mom, I forgot to tell you. Your friend came through here a few minutes ago on a motorcycle.”

Izzy’s eyes narrowed. Jess saw his stance shift subtly.

“What friend?” Luellen asked irritably. “You’re not supposed to talk to men, Ruthie.”

“He had these way cool boots and a camouflage jacket and—”

“You mean, your father was here?”

“No, not Dad. I don’t know this guy, but he had boots sort of like Dad’s and he said he was a friend of yours from the Laundromat. He wanted to know where you were and when you’d be back.”

Boots.

Fear dug into Jess’s chest.

Izzy turned slowly. “Sounds kind of scary. Is he a friend of yours, Luellen?”

“No one I know.” Luellen punched out an angry breath. “I told you there’ve been all kinds of people driving around here at night. When I go out to check, they cut off their lights. Probably that turd husband of mine is putting them up to it,” she said in disgust. “Anything to get out of paying child support, not that he pays more than once a year.” She scowled at a bent sycamore tree behind the trailer. “At least he makes a good sight for my target practice.” She gestured toward a picture of a man’s face tacked on the tree trunk. Bullets had left ragged holes across the forehead and drilled out both eyes and cheeks.

Jess took a sharp breath as Luellen moved around Ruthie and put two bullets right between the man’s eyes. And there was no doubt that the face on the tree belonged to the man she’d seen in the diner, the same man she had seen briefly on TV.

“That’s your husband?” Jess asked anxiously.

“Richard Dickman, aka Richard the Dick,” Luellen said with a sneer. “Mean, nasty sonofabitch that he is. If he comes around here again, I’ll drill him in the head for real this time.”

“Mom,” Ruthie said anxiously, “did you take your medicine today?”

“I don’t need that stuff anymore. It makes me feel crappy, like my thoughts are all scrambled up.”

As if they weren’t already scrambled, Jess thought.

“That man told you he was a friend of your mother’s, Ruthie? Not a friend of your father’s?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Was he alone?”

“I guess so. I didn’t see anyone else around.”

Izzie shifted his bag to his left arm. “Ruthie, maybe you should show Jess around while I use the bathroom? I see you’ve got quite a garden in back.”

Ruthie glanced at her mother for permission.

“Go on,” Luellen said impatiently. “Show her your animals while you’re at it. I know all about having to pee.” She winked at Izzy. “It’s hell getting old, isn’t it?”

“But, Mom, I really don’t think—”

Luellen shook her head. “Always arguing. Just like your father—may his mean and stingy soul rot in hell.”

“I’d like to see the garden,” Jess said quietly.

Ruthie glanced slowly from Jess to Izzy, then trotted over the damp grass. “Just watch your step. It’s real muddy back here.”

Halfway down the hill, Jess heard the low whine of motors coming from the trees behind them.

At the sound, Izzy halted, one foot on the trailer steps. He dug into his red handbag and stared at the three men on motorcycles winding along a muddy track that climbed up from the foothills. “Luellen?”

“Don’t know them.” Luellen was staring down the hill with narrowed eyes, her fingers clenched on her Colt.

“They’re probably not here to pick up their dirty laundry.” Izzy pulled a phone from his purse. “Get Ruthie and Jess into that storm shelter behind your trailer.” His voice was low and harsh. It was also unquestionably male now.

“Wait a damned minute.” Luellen took a step backward. “You’re not a woman. You’re a frigging
man.
”

The drone of the motorcycles grew louder.

“Do it, Luellen.”

“Damn, you really are a man.” Luellen was still struggling to get her thoughts around the fact that Izzy had completely duped her. “Why the hell are you dressed that way?” The gun twitched in her hand as if it had a life of its own.

“Look, I’m a good guy, Luellen.” Izzy’s voice was a low growl. “But right now we’re all in danger. So get them out of sight and don’t come out until you hear me call you. Understand?” Izzy scanned the slope while punching in a number on his phone.

“It’s that husband of mine, isn’t it?” Luellen hissed. “I thought I saw him on TV today. What’s he done now? Armed robbery? Illegal gun sales?”

Ruthie had halted just ahead of Jess and was looking back uncertainly.

“Ruthie, you and Jess head back.” Izzy motioned curtly. “Hurry.” He didn’t look at Luellen. “As for your husband, I can’t say.”

Suddenly, the girl turned and bolted down the hill.

“Ruthie?” Luellen started after her daughter, but Izzy caught her arm.

“Get into the shelter. Take Jess with you.”

“Not without my daughter.” Luellen dug at his fingers, her expression mulish.

A sheriff’s car fishtailed up the gravel drive as Izzy spoke curtly into his cell phone. “Teague here. What’s your ETA?” He scanned the hillside. “We’ve got three motorcycles from the northwest and a sheriff’s black-and-white. No sign of the princess, but L.Z. has signaled a direct scent. I say again, we have a direct scent signal. No open gunfire.”

Jess realized what he was saying. Whatever Hawk and his people were tracking had to be nearby.

Jess turned and saw Ruthie disappear into a shed behind a row of young corn plants. Ruthie’s garden was lovingly tended, with no weeds anywhere. As Jess cut through the thick green rows, slipping in the mud, her sandals stuck, and she kicked them off. She was breathing hard by the time she reached the shed.

“Ruthie, it’s Jess. Are you okay?”

Something big clattered in the darkness. Gripping her purse, Jess lunged for the door, lost her balance, and slipped down the muddy slope on one knee. Her jeans were streaked and wet when she grabbed the door and peered into the darkened shed.

A clump of fur drifted past her face and she bit back a sneeze. “Ruthie?”

Another
clunk
came from the shadows inside. Cold air brushed her face.

She heard Luellen arguing up the hill, followed by Izzy’s voice snapping orders. With the motorcycles coming closer, Jess knew there was no time to waste. She moved gingerly through the darkness, seeing two rabbits in a cage beside a hamster running on a big wheel. Only a thin line of gray light slanted through the single high window.

Jess nearly tripped over a rake and a shovel leaning against the wall.

Something skittered behind her, and she spun around. “Ruthie?”

The door slammed shut.

“Ruthie, what are you doing?” A lock rattled outside.

Jess grabbed the door, panic slashing through her. She was locked in.

Fear gathered, a tight ball in her throat. Outside in the deepening twilight, she heard the sheriff’s car pull into the yard near the trailer, radio squawking. Footsteps crunched across the gravel.

Jess remembered the last order that Izzy had given.

No gunfire. Any harm to the princess—whatever that was—would be unacceptable.

She realized that Hawk and the team were fully prepared to die to carry out their orders.

Hawk stood at the open hatch of the Pave Low chopper, buckling on a Kevlar vest. The target zone was on the far side of the hill, only seconds away, but from what he could hear, the op was already going to shit fast. He’d have to insert ASAP, without cover.

The big bird thundered along the curve of the hill within feet of the treetops. Hawk knew that by drawing fire, he’d buy Izzy time to find Princess and take countermeasures.

As the bird cleared the tree line, Hawk closed his vest and secured his snub submachine gun. He picked out the sheriff’s black-and-white near the trailer and what had to be at least seven other men running through the muddy yard toward the big tree where Luellen was standing.

Izzy had vanished.

“Down in twenty seconds,” Hawk snapped over the din of the chopper’s motor. “Notify Teague.”

“Yes, sir.” One of Izzy’s team hunched over a walkie-talkie, squinting against the throb of the motor.

The chopper stopped, hovering twenty feet above the ground. Hawk gripped the heavy rope suspended outside the door and swung into the air. As he shot down the rope, his hands closed and his feet twisted, braking his descent.

Bullets zinged around him, clattering off the chopper’s armored body, but his team didn’t return fire. Their orders were crystal clear.

No harm to the animal. No matter the personal cost.

Dimly, Jess heard the sound of a helicopter approaching.

Sweat covered her face, trickling between her shoulders. Locked in waves of panic, she took gasping breaths, forcing her head down between her legs as dizziness threatened to overwhelm her.

This is what I fear most,
she thought.
This is the nightmare, the thing that wakes me up whimpering. But I understand it now.

All she had to do was control it.

Her nails dug into her palms. Dragging in a deep breath, she forced her body to relax while she counted down from ten.

Musty darkness stretched around her. The shed was filled with broken tools, watering cans and rusty shovels. None of them would help her get outside.

Jess took another deep breath, avoiding the sight of the closed door.

She’d beaten her fear once in the elevator with Hawk. She could damn well do it again.

She sneezed, frowning at the musty edge to the air. To distract herself, she ran her fingers over the work surface beneath the window, wincing as she met splintered wood. A stack of broken plastic lawn chairs leaned against the window next to an old garden hose and several empty feedbags.

She forced her hands open, coaching her body to relax, muscle by tense muscle. No one but Ruthie knew she was locked in. No one would come looking for her.