Pure Dynamite (36 page)

"I don't trust your arrangements anymore. Couldn't you just leave me at a motel somewhere?"

"Can't risk it. There's a chance this guy's partner may be close by. And you
'll
be able to trust my next arrangement. You'll be with my brother."

"Your brother's an FBI agent, too?"

Adam helped her in his car. "Hardly. But he's the only person I can trust right now." Speeding off, he quickly explained the full story, including Zach's finding Stan.

She was confused. "If you suspect Ethan Falco is behind Stan's attack, doesn't that end your investigation?"

"It depends. As long as my cover remains intact, I still have a shot at bringing the McEdwins down."

"Alone?"

"No." Adam needed to think through that part. He had to be cautious of who he contacted until they knew who the moles helping the McEdwins were. He also wanted to find out what Ethan was up to.

He turned to her. "Until I can get you hooked up with my brother, it's critical that we both act as if nothing's changed. You're still a hostage; you need to do everything I say without question. And I can't treat you any differently in front of Lyle. Think you can manage it?"

"I have to. Both our lives depend on it."

"I know it's a lot to absorb. And I'll try to keep you informed of what's going on, but don't speak of it, even when we're alone unless I tell you it's okay. You never know who is watching or listening."

Taking the cell phone again, he quickly dialed Ethan's number. The call was routed directly to voice mail. Was Ethan on the phone or did he know Adam was onto him already?

He left a detailed message about the man locked in the trunk. Then he hung up. There was a lot more he wanted to say to Ethan, but for now he'd keep his cards close. They had almost reached the trailer's driveway
now. It would be dark soon. And they needed to get far away.

"I need to handcuff you," Adam said. "To keep up the act."

She nodded, but he didn't miss the slight flinch when the metal snapped into place.

Lyle's surprise at seeing her was obvious. "What the hell's going on?"

"Give me one sec."

Adam pulled her into the bedroom, kissed her cheek, and pointed to the bed. "Get some sleep if you can."

"What's she doing back?" Lyle demanded when he returned to the kitchen.

"The roads were crawling with cops. I didn't want to risk it. As it was, one followed me for a few miles. I circled north just to lose him."

"Fuck."

"Don't sweat it. We've got bigger fish to fry. My partner called."

Lyle leaned closer. "With good news, I hope?"

Adam nodded. "He confirmed availability on a hundred pounds. The price is $200,000, cash on delivery. But I have to confirm fast, so he can start making arrangements on his end."

"Then I'll go call my pa." Lyle grinned. "And the price just became $250,000,
partner."

Within an hour, they were ready to hit the road. A different car had been left, an older four-door Pontiac. Lyle let Renata check him and change his bandage.

"Looks to me like it's starting to heal," Lyle said.

She shook her head. "It's stopped bleeding since
you've been resting. But it continues to show signs of infection and you're still running a fever—"

"Fever, schmever. I always run hot." Lyle popped two painkillers into his mouth. "And don't say a word about the pills. The way I look at it, I deserve them."

Adam transferred their supplies to the car's trunk then sat at the kitchen table to study the road map.

Lyle scanned their newest set of directions. He pointed to a small town in Utah. "Finally!"

"Is that home sweet home?" If they were headed to the McEdwins' headquarters, Adam needed to drop Renata off before they got there.

"Not yet. But I know these folks, which means the old man will be close by."

"Then let's get going. That's a lot of miles to cover in one night." And Adam wanted to make sure they weren't being tailed.

Whoever drew up the route must have felt confident the cops were searching strictly in New York, because they traveled on the interstate, making good time until they reached Denver.

He glanced at Renata. She sat beside him, her hands cuffed in front, her eyes unfocused as she stared out the window. Was she thinking of her mother who lived close by? Or was she pondering the same unanswered questions he was?

Adam's ears popped as they changed altitude. Bypassing Denver, they switched to smaller highways, and headed deeper into the Rockies. Driving became more tedious, the road an unending series of S-curves and steep grades. He turned on the heat as the temperature grew cooler.

A muffled bang echoed as the car suddenly jerked and swerved. Cursing, Adam struggled to keep the wheel under control.

Lyle stirred from a drugged sleep, confused. "Was that gunfire?"

"We blew a tire. Right, rear."

Adam slowed, but didn't stop. He couldn't. There was a wall of rock on one side of the road and a steep drop-off on the other. No shoulder. They had to make it to one of the turnouts scattered about every quarter mile.

When they reached the next pull-over, Adam parked as close to the tree line as he could. "There better be a decent spare."

He grabbed the flashlight and climbed out. In the trunk he found a spare tire and a crowbar. But no jack. Of all the goddamned luck.

"Now what?" Lyle asked when he returned.

"We passed a car at the last overlook. I'll see if it has a jack." Adam had considered taking Renata along. Except he could get there and back quicker, alone. "You two get out and hide behind those trees. If someone does come along they'll see the flat tire and think the owner will be back in the morning. I shouldn't be gone more than a few minutes."

As soon as Adam disappeared, Lyle climbed out of the back. She waited for him to open her door, so they could move to the trees, but instead he moved in behind the wheel and started the car.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

At first Lyle didn't answer, too busy lighting a cigarette. Lowering the windows, he put the car in gear, his movements sluggish.

"I'm going to move the car up just a little, under that pine." He blew a stream of smoke in her direction. "Were you afraid I'd take off? That you wouldn't see lover boy again?"

Renata felt her face flame. Of course Lyle assumed
they were intimate. She and Adam slept together, showered together. Still, she opened her mouth to deny it.

"Hey, I got my own piece of ass waiting at the next stop so it's nothing to me." Lyle eased his foot off the brake.

The car jerked but didn't move because of the flat tire. Swearing, he hit the gas.

This time the car shot forward. It skidded along the guardrail before pulling sharply to the right with a bump. Lyle had driven off the edge of the pavement.

"Stop," she yelled. It was too late. The right front wheel had already lost traction.

The car tilted and slid in slow motion. Metal scraped on metal as the guardrail loosened. Without warning it gave way. Renata braced her feet and held her breath as the car crept forward an inch at a time, gaining momentum as it started down the ravine.

Suddenly they stopped. She peered out the passenger window, seeing little in the odd-angled headlights. She could see trees, make out their shapes.

She struggled to right herself, hampered by the handcuffs. The car wobbled rocking back and forth, like a seesaw. Sweat broke out on her brow as she realized they were hovering on the edge of another precipice.

"Shit! I dropped my cigarette," Lyle said.

"Don't worry about that now! We need to get out of the car."

Lyle shoved his door open. The car teetered.

"Easy," she hissed. "We have to move slowly, in unison."

But as soon as the car stopped pitching, he bolted. "Fuck slowly. I'm outta here."

Renata lunged, but the door slammed shut before she reached it. "Wait!" she screamed.

The impact of the swinging door, combined with Lyle's hasty exit, shifted the car's delicate balance. It swayed, dangled . . . and with a horrible rending of metal, slid into the dark abyss.

Renata hit the dashboard then slumped to the floor as the car rammed against something solid. Then it creaked and moved before stopping again. She held her breath, worried that even the slightest motion would trigger another slide.

All sound ceased. She moved an inch at a time, climbing back in the seat. The car seemed to be resting solidly, at least for the moment. Good news.

Until she smelled smoke.

It took Adam less than two minutes to sprint the quarter-mile downhill. They were fortunate to have hit an area with pull-overs this close.

And if that hadn't been good enough, he found the abandoned car already jacked up, its front left tire missing. The hapless owner had had the opposite problem: a jack but no spare.

Adam quickly lowered the car. But before heading back, he called his brother. Zach answered on the first ring.

"How's Stan?"

"It's touch and go. He hasn't regained consciousness."

The news troubled Adam. Like him, Stan had only one relative, a distant uncle. He'd mentioned it at the beginning of the assignment when Adam gave him a copy of his will.

"I don't even bother to keep life insurance. Nobody I care about enough to leave it to," Stan had joked.

Of course, Stan hadn't considered his behind-the- scenes work to be high-risk. Which made Adam wonder again why Ethan wanted Stan dead: What was in the file Stan had tried to send to Zach?

"Were you able to retrieve anything off Stan's computer?"

"Yeah. Probably more than I should have," Zach said. "The attachment he tried to send me outlined your entire investigation. How much do you know about this Ethan Falco?"