Redzone (13 page)

The bullets hit One Ear in the nose, an eye, and his throat.
He went down in a welter of blood. Lee swore, rolled free of the body, and stood. Her legs were wobbly, and she felt dizzy. That went away after a moment, and she was about to return for her belongings, when she heard a whining noise. It came from the dog with the severed spine.

As Lee went over to look at him she was surprised by the way she felt. The formerly frightening dog looked pitiful now, its brown eyes pleading with her as it tried to pull itself forward. “I'm sorry,” Lee said. And was surprised to discover that she meant it. She pulled the trigger, and the report echoed off the face of the nearby cliff.

For the first time Lee had an opportunity to look north. A huge open pit mine was located directly in front of and below her. As she looked on, toy-sized earthmovers were being used to load the trucks that would haul the raw ore to the railroad for shipment west. Lee could hear the distant growl of their engines and imagine how hot the pit would be by midafternoon.

The town of what she assumed to be Heartbreak was laid out grid-style, and consisted of low one- and two-story buildings, very few of which appeared to be homes. No, based on what Lee could see, most of the local residents were living in the shacks that clung to the slopes of the valley west of the mine. Was that where she would find her mother? Lee was determined to find out.

Lee made her way back into the passageway where she had to step over the dead dog in order to retrieve her belongings. She hauled everything out into the open where it would be easier to repack, and was busy stuffing the sleeping bag into its sack, when she heard a distant buzzing sound. As Lee turned toward the sound, she saw that a small helicopter was flying straight at her from the west end of the valley. Her first impulse was to run. But she wasn't ready to depart—and there was no place to run to.

So Lee turned back to the task at hand and was finished by the time the chopper circled the top of the hill. Sunlight
glinted off the aircraft's bubble-shaped canopy—and she could see two people inside.

By that time it was clear that the helicopter was going to land on the flat area adjacent to the sprawl of bodies. All Lee could do was stand and wait as the chopper settled onto its skids. The rotors made a whup, whup, whup sound as a man got out and paused to survey the carnage. Both barrels of his shotgun were resting on his right shoulder as he came forward to speak with her. But Lee knew that he could level the weapon in a heartbeat and fire just as quickly. He was wearing a cowboy hat, a fleece-lined leather jacket, and jeans. And once the man was closer Lee could see that he was walleyed. The face mask was ready, and she pulled it on.

The man stopped. “You're a norm,” he stated flatly.

“Yes.”

“We don't get a whole lot of norms out this way,” the man said conversationally. “What did you use on the dogs? A machine pistol?”

“Nope. A Glock and a .357 revolver.”

The man uttered a low whistle. “That took some fancy shootin'. The old man's gonna be pissed though . . . Them were
his
dogs.”

“I thought they were wild.”

“They
are
wild,” the man replied. “Or they were. But that don't matter. The old man owns
everything
around here. And that includes the wild dogs. When they went off-line, he sent me out to take a look.”

Lee frowned. “Off-line?”

“You didn't notice the collars? And the trackers? She-it, girl . . . Those animals were part of the company's security system. So I've got to ask you to surrender those pistols. Then we're gonna have a little meet and greet with the old man. Maybe you can work the cost off at the mine.”

“And if I don't?”

The shotgun dropped so that both barrels were pointed at Lee's chest. “Then I'm going to blow you in half.”

Lee remained as she was. “And you are?”

“Bruce Heevy. Boss Heevy's son.”

“I see. Okay, I'm going to open my jacket real slow and remove the Glock . . . Then I'm going to reach for the Smith & Wesson. It's holstered at the small of my back. I will place both weapons on the ground and take three paces back.”

Bruce nodded. “Sounds like you've done this before.”

“I'm a cop.”

“Get serious.”

“I
am
serious. I have a badge and everything.”

“Show it to me.”

“Okay . . . I'm going to remove it from the inside pocket of my jacket.”

Once the case was out in the open Bruce crooked a finger. “Toss it here.”

Lee watched him make the one-handed catch and flip the case open. Bruce glanced at the ID card inside. “Cassandra Lee . . .” His eyes met hers. “What brings you to the town of Heartbreak, Detective Lee?”

“I'm looking for my mother.”

“And her name is?”

“Alala Lee. Or Freedom Lee.”

A look of surprise appeared on Bruce's face. “Does she have dark skin?”

“Yes. Darker than mine.”

Bruce was silent for a moment. Then he laughed. “She-it! The old man's gonna have a cow . . . Put those weapons on the ground, girl . . . And welcome to the town of Heartbreak.”

AFTER SURRENDERING HER
weapons and submitting to a pat down, Lee was ordered onto the helicopter. She had ridden on choppers before—but never one so small. The backseat was barely wide enough to accommodate both her and the pack.

Once Lee was belted in, Bruce secured her hands with a plastic zip tie he connected to the U-bolt mounted on the back of the front seat. A sure sign that the aircraft had been used to transport prisoners before.

Then Lee and the pilot had to wait while Bruce retrieved all the dog collars. Would they be used to track another pack? Probably.

Finally, after Bruce strapped himself into the front passenger seat, the chopper took off. The aircraft angled forward as it sped out over the mine and turned west. Its shadow blipped over excavators, support buildings, and the town of Heartbreak.

*   *   *

It wasn't until the noise thing was gone that Silver emerged from hiding. She couldn't comprehend what had taken
place—but she was very familiar with the smell of death. And as Silver went over to nuzzle One Ear's body, she made a whining noise deep in her throat.

Then, overcome with emotion, she threw her head back and uttered a long, mournful howl. The sound was audible on the other side of the valley. A miner heard it and made the sign of the cross.

*   *   *

Lee's thoughts were churning. Bruce Heevy was acquainted with her mother! And, more than that, seemed to feel that Boss Heevy would be interested in the fact that Alala had a daughter.
Why?
Lee caught a glimpse of a castlelike house as the helicopter circled it. Then the structure was behind her as the pilot brought the machine in for a soft landing on a pad just south of the mansion.

Once on the ground Lee had to wait while the engine shut down and Bruce got out. He gave the dog collars to a man in blue overalls before turning back to Lee. His pocketknife was sharp enough to free her with a single cut. “Come on,” he said. “Word travels quickly in our house . . . And I want to be there when the old man gets the news! You can leave the pack . . . A servant will bring it in.”

*   *   *

The great room was truly great. The fireplace at the north end of the room was at least six feet tall and twelve feet wide. That made it large enough to roast a cow should Boss Heevy choose to do so. Plus, there was enough seating to handle thirty people, all of which was arranged to create interlocking conversation areas. Those walls not devoted to large windows were hung with dozens of hunting trophies. Some of them were nightmarish creatures that owed their existence to
B. nosilla
rather than the hand of God. Unless one believed, as some did, that
B. nosilla
had been sent by God to punish the human race.

But Boss Heevy's province was at the south end of the
vast room, a good seventy-five feet from the fireplace, on a platform originally intended for use as a stage. It had been constructed so that Heevy's sister could dance while their parents looked on. But Belinda had been gone for a long time—as were the man and woman who adored her.

That left Heevy to use the platform as he saw fit—and it was a good place for his desk, some guest chairs, and the bookcases located to the right and left. And he loved books. Not for the sort of romantic nonsense that Belinda had favored. No, he liked books about geology, mining, and economics. All subjects that he'd been required to master in order to maintain the company and expand it.

But who would follow him? Who would take the operation to the next level? That was the question that haunted Heevy. Hoss was too soft for the job, Bruce lacked the necessary intelligence, and James lacked ambition. Yes, the boy could be prodded into action. But when left to his own devices he preferred to play rather than work. Of course he was young, and with the passage of time . . .

Such were Boss Heevy's thoughts as he heard a commotion and looked up to see Bruce enter the room. Bruce and a boy, no, a girl, who was wearing a spit mask. An ugly then . . . Someone so hard to look at that she chose to hide her face. Was she the one responsible for killing 90 percent of pack two? No. It would take a group of people to accomplish that. Troublemakers most likely . . . Miners trying to leave the valley without paying what they owed to the company store.

Bruce stopped just short of the stage so the girl did as well. “I'm back,” Bruce said.

Heevy stood to circle the desk. His body was normal from the waist up. But his legs were so twisted that two canes were required in order to walk. “Yes,” Heevy said sarcastically. “I can see that. Who is this creature?”

Bruce was enjoying himself. “This,” he said importantly, “is Detective Cassandra Lee. She's looking for her mother . . . A woman named Alala.”

Heevy frowned. “That's what she told you? And you were stupid enough to believe it?”

*   *   *

Lee took a deep breath and removed the mask. A look of wide-eyed shock appeared on Heevy's face. “No! It can't be!”

Lee pulled the mask back into place so that she could breathe. Now it was clear that both Heevys were acquainted with her mother. “Yes,” Lee said. “It can be—and it
is
. It seems that you know my mother. Where is she?”

Heevy had regained his composure by then. His lower lip stuck out farther than the one above. And that gave him the look of an eternally petulant child. He forced a smile. “I'm sorry to say that she's ill and has been for some time. She's upstairs in her bedroom.”

“She lives
here
?”

“Of course. All three of my wives do.”

Now it was Lee's turn to feel a sense of shock. Married! And one of
three
wives? That was a surprise to say the least—although Lee knew that polygamy was legal in the Republic of Texas. Her head was spinning. “Can I see her?”

Heevy made his way down a flight of three stairs. “She sent for you?”

“Yes. I had no idea where she was until I received the letter.”

“May I ask what she told you? What brought you into the red zone?”

“She said that she's dying.”

Heevy nodded. “Yes. I'm sorry to say that's true. I will miss her greatly.”

As Lee looked into Heevy's brown eyes, she could see that it was true. Regardless of whether Heevy was good or bad, he was in love with her mother. And that possibility had never occurred to her. That someone could love the person who abandoned her. “I see,” Lee said awkwardly.

“I will let Alala know that you're here,” Heevy said
gently. “And, assuming she feels up to it, I'm sure she'll want to see you. In the meantime I have a question . . . Bruce mentioned that you're a detective.”

“Yes. With the Los Angeles Police Department. That's how my mother knew where to find me. She'd seen me on television.”

Heevy looked skeptical. “Here in the red zone?”

“Yes. I followed a kidnapping victim across the border. That got some press down in Arizona.”

Heevy nodded. “I'll bet it did.” The
real
question, which was why Alala had chosen to keep Lee's existence to herself, remained unsaid.

“She's a very good shot,” Bruce volunteered. “She took pack two down with a couple of pistols.”

“How interesting,” Heevy said mildly. “That's quite an accomplishment—and more than a little annoying. Normally, there would be severe consequences for such a thing. But, since you're a member of the family, we'll put it down to a misunderstanding.”

Lee didn't know how to feel about her sudden induction into the Heevy family—but assumed it was to her advantage. “Thank you. Can I have my guns back? I feel naked without them.”

Heevy laughed. “Of course. Bruce . . . give the girl her weapons.”

Bruce was carrying the pistols in his belt. He offered them butts first. Lee took them, and was in the process of putting the Smith & Wesson away, when Heevy spoke. “See the buck hanging over the fireplace? The twelve pointer? My father shot it through the heart. I want you to put a bullet between its eyes.” It was a strange challenge—but Lee was in a strange place.

So she checked to make sure that the Glock was loaded, brought it up with both hands, and took the proper stance. The gun fired. The deer was at least twenty-five yards away, and Lee knew that most shooters would be happy with a
three-to-five-inch pattern at that range. How close was she? Bruce went down to the other end of the room for a closer look. “She was a few inches to the right,” he announced. “The bullet went through its left eye.”

Heevy had bushy eyebrows, and they rose. “There's only one other person who could get that close from this distance—and that's your half brother, James. He's down at the mine right now . . . But you'll meet him at dinner. Bruce, tell Mrs. Dustin that Cassandra will be staying in the blue room and to look after her needs.”

Lee was stunned. And even though the lower part of her face was covered Heevy could see the reaction in her eyes. He smiled bitterly. “It appears that your mother kept secrets from you as well . . . She's consistent if nothing else.”

Mrs. Dustin had appeared by then. She was a kindly-looking woman with a short trunk in place of a nose. “Come with me, dear . . . I'll show you to your room.”

*   *   *

It was Heevy's custom to visit Alala every morning at 10
A.M.
That gave Myra Meo the time necessary to bathe her mistress, help her dress, and change the sheets on the bed. Once Alala was back in bed a kitchen servant would arrive with a breakfast of tea and dry toast. Both of which were likely to stay down. So when the knock came, Alala looked at herself in a hand mirror. There was no need for a mask now that
B. nosilla
was ravaging her body. And, all things considered, Alala thought she looked reasonably good. She put the mirror down. “Come in!”

The door opened, and Heevy entered. His canes produced a thumping sound as he passed through the shaft of sunlight that was streaming in through a high arched window.
His
chair, the one kept in the room especially for him, was positioned next to Alala's bed. It had been what? A year since they had slept together? Something like that. Fortunately
Heevy had Monica and Bethany to take care of his needs. “Good morning, darling,” Alala said. “How are you?”

“I'm fine,” Heevy replied. “More to the point—how are
you
?”

“The pills keep the pain down,” Alala replied. “But they make it hard to stay awake.”

“Don't worry about that,” Heevy replied. “Sleep as much as you want.”

Alala smiled weakly and reached out take his hand. “You're so good to me.” That was a lie, of course . . . Since she caught
B. nosilla
from
him
while they were having sex.

“I want to see your face,” he had insisted. That was when he tore the mask off. And infected a person he loved. Did her husband feel guilty about that? Yes, Alala believed that he did.

Heevy smiled. “I have a surprise for you.”

Alala's eyes widened. “A surprise? Whatever could it be?”

“Your daughter, Cassandra, is here. She's staying in the blue room.”

Alala felt a brief moment of joy quickly followed by a stab of fear. “I'm sorry, Hiram . . . I should have told you.”

“Yes,” he said tightly. “You should have. Why didn't you?”

Though calm, Heevy was angry. Alala could see that, and it came as no surprise. Because while Heevy loved her in his own way, he had very high standards for his wives, and would perceive her omission as a lie. That was why Alala had hoped to see Cassie in private. At Myra's house.

But now, looking back, Alala knew how unrealistic that plan had been. Her health had deteriorated a great deal over the last few months and it was no longer possible to leave the house. But somehow, some way, Cassie had been able to find her. “I was scared,” Alala told him. “I wasn't sure you would want me if you knew.” That was only half-true but enough to assuage Heevy's ego.

“I would want you no matter what,” Heevy said gallantly. “And I must say that your daughter is a very impressive
young woman. She hiked through the hills to reach the valley, was attacked by pack two, and put most of them down. It's the sort of thing James might do.”

That was a compliment of sorts. An indirect way of saying that Alala's son was superior to the rest. But Alala was careful to ignore that. Or seem to. “Yes, all of your boys are competent, and I know that's a comfort to you.”

“Yes,” Heevy agreed, “it is. Well, time for me to go. Cassandra would like to see you . . . Would 1:00
P.M.
be convenient?”

Alala would have preferred to see Cassie right
then
—but rather than betray the strength of her emotions she nodded. “Yes, darling . . . That would be fine. Thank you for your understanding where this matter is concerned. I'm the luckiest woman in the world.”

Heevy stood, bent to kiss her cheek, and left. Alala's thoughts were racing. Cassie! There in the house . . . The first part of the plan was in place. Now for the second. Alala felt better than she had for a long time.

*   *   *

The blue room was not only large and nicely furnished, it had a bathroom of its own. And that included a big tub. So Lee filled it with hot water and took the opportunity to wash all the dirt and grime away. Then she got out, toweled off, and discovered that new clothes had been laid out on the bed. Not a shirt and jeans but a summery dress! The sort of thing she rarely wore.

Still, clean was better than dirty, so she put it on. And there were shoes, too . . . strappy things with high heels. Who was dressing her anyway? Then it struck her. Frank Lee had seen his wife in his daughter, and Boss Heevy did, too. Was her mother required to wear dresses? Lee had a feeling that she was. There was a knock at the door.