Tennessee Takedown (14 page)

Chris shook his head. “No. This isn’t exactly a high-traffic area around here. I suppose he could have gone down a side road if he heard our siren.”

“Since there’s not much traffic, that should make figuring out what he was driving and where it went fairly easy,” Dillon said.

The sirens were much louder now. Lights flashed on an ambulance about a half mile down the road, racing toward the house. Behind it, a tanker truck turned onto the long road.

The chief stepped closer, as if to make sure he could be heard over the noise. “I bet if we make a few phone calls we’ll pinpoint exactly what type of vehicle drove through here and we’ll be able to track it at least until it reaches a major highway, if that’s where Iceman...Luther went.”

“I’m on it.” Donna took out her cell phone.

Five minutes later, Dillon was sitting on a gurney in the back of the ambulance having his head sewn up. He refused to go to the hospital until Ashley was found, but he’d compromised and agreed to a quick repair while Donna worked on figuring out exactly where Iceman’s vehicle—which she’d determined from eyewitnesses on the road was a white panel van—had gone.

Firemen worked to put out the blaze, even though Dillon didn’t see the point anymore. The house was a total loss.

“Let’s talk it out,” Dillon said, not willing to put all his hopes on Donna being able to figure out where the van went. “Maybe we can figure out where Iceman would take Ashley and why. What did you find out while we were holed up in the mountains?”

“Random stuff,” Chris said. “We don’t have much.”

“Start with the Dunlop family and their business. What do you know about them?”

“Okay. Todd Dunlop had three kids, a girl and two boys. They’re all grown adults now. Patricia Dunlop, the woman who came to the station, is his third wife.”

“You mean Cruella de Vil’s not related to any of the children?”

“No. Why?”

“Just thinking out loud. What else, what else?” He winced when the EMT pressed gauze against his head.

“They had a prenup agreement, so if anything happened to the husband, the wife got nothing.”

“What about life insurance?”

“Everything is going to charity. The wife, the kids, they don’t get anything.”

Dillon stared at Chris. “Nothing? He was a billionaire and he didn’t provide for his family upon his death?”

“Not that we’ve been able to tell. The family plans to ask for an injunction while they fight in the courts. But what difference does it make? Todd Dunlop wasn’t murdered.”

“I know, I know. I’m trying to figure out how Iceman, Luther Kennedy, fits into all of this and why he wants Ashley alive. We know he was a thug, but that Todd Dunlop trusted him. Why would he trust a shady guy like that?”

The chief hooked his fingers into his belt loops. “Maybe he was afraid of Luther. Maybe Luther blackmailed him into giving him a job.”

Dillon glanced at Chris. “Any evidence of that?”

“No. None.”

Donna ended her latest call and joined them. “I’ve got a call tree going like wildfire. If anyone knows anything, they’ll let us know.”

Dillon nodded his thanks. “We need more information on Luther. Donna, would you place a call to the Knoxville FBI office? Don’t tell them about Kent yet. That will bog down the conversation and we don’t have time for that right now. Tell them Kent is unavailable and we need everything they have on Luther right away.”

“You got it.” She pulled her phone out again.

The EMT finished bandaging the side of Dillon’s head. “I highly recommend you go to the hospital, sir. You might have a concussion.”

“I’ll go later.”

The EMT glanced at the chief.

The chief sighed and nodded. “Go on back to town. He’s not going to change his mind right now.”

Dillon eased himself off the gurney and out of the ambulance and stood with Chris and the chief as the ambulance headed back up the road. “Todd Dunlop essentially committed suicide by cop at Gibson and Gibson. He wanted to kill the person he felt was responsible for embezzling funds and ruining his company. Before Kent was killed, he told me he had evidence that indicated Lauren Wilkes, Ashley’s best friend, was the one who stole her identity. By Ashley’s own admission, her friend wasn’t that good as an auditor, barely even passed her classes. That reinforces Kent’s theory that Lauren teamed up with people at the companies to get them to embezzle in some kind of blackmail scheme. What we need to know is who she teamed up with at Dunlop Enterprises.”

Chris frowned. “But we already know—Luther embezzled the money.”

“Are we positive?”

The chief shook his head. “It seems the most likely scenario, but no, I haven’t seen any real proof yet.”

“I don’t think he did,” Dillon said.

“Why not?” Chris asked.

“Because Luther is so determined to keep Ashley alive. He doesn’t strike me as the type to go after someone that hard unless there’s a benefit to him. And he’s taking tons of risks—shooting at cops, killing a federal agent. If he’s got millions stashed away, why not take the money and run? Why risk being killed or sent to prison?”

Chris shook his head. “Son of a... He doesn’t have the money. That’s the
only
reason he would take those risks.”

“I agree,” Dillon said. “Somehow, abducting Ashley is the key to him getting the money. We know he had it at one time, or at least access to the money. If he was partnering with Lauren Wilkes to embezzle the money, she was the only one with access to it. Somehow she has the money and he can’t get to it. And he believes Ashley is his key to getting the money.”

“Lauren Wilkes is the key,” the chief said. “Find Lauren—”

“And we find Ashley,” Dillon finished.

The chief folded his arms. “We still don’t know Miss Parrish’s role in this. Maybe she was colluding with her friend in the embezzlement.”

Dillon gritted his teeth. “No. She wouldn’t do that.”

“You sure about that? Willing to bet your life on that?”

“Yes.” And suddenly, he knew it was true. He trusted Ashley, with no reservations. “I’m not sure why I’m so sure, but I am.”

Donna hung up her cell phone again. “You’re not going to believe this.” She joined their circle by the road. “Luther Kennedy wasn’t just an errand boy for Todd Dunlop. Luther was Todd’s illegitimate son. And that’s not all. Interviews with the Dunlops’ household staff indicate the marriage was on rocky ground and that Patricia Dunlop had contacted a lawyer about breaking the prenuptial agreement. She was told it was rock solid, no chance that it could be broken.” Her face broke into a wide smile. “Ask me what else I found out.”

“We don’t have time to make guesses,” Dillon said.

Her smile dimmed. “Okay, okay. With the Dunlop family being billionaires, their children’s escapades tended to catch media attention. Which means a lot of their actions get caught on camera by paparazzi. And one of those camera hounds snapped pictures of one of the sons, David, with his latest girlfriend, about a month before Todd Dunlop’s death. Guess who she was?”

Dillon stared at her. “Lauren Wilkes?”

“Yep. And guess who was killed in a car accident, a one-vehicle accident with no witnesses, a few days before the Gibson and Gibson shooting?”

Chris, Dillon and the chief all exchanged glances. “David Dunlop,” they said in unison.

“Yep.” Donna looked very pleased with herself.

“So what the heck is going on?” Dillon scrubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Did David know about the embezzlement? Do we have a love triangle here? Lauren played Luther and David against each other and tried to skip town with the money? And Luther killed David?”

“It all comes back to the money,” the chief said. “But I still don’t understand how it all fits together.”

Donna’s phone rang. She grabbed it while all eyes focused on her. “Yep, yep, right. Got it. Thanks.” She hung up, her mouth flattening into a tight line. “I was able to confirm sightings of the van up to the Youngbloods’ farm ten minutes west of here as the crow flies. But I haven’t gotten anything after that. I’m sorry, Dillon.”

Dillon gritted his teeth and gave her a crisp nod.

The chief gave him a sympathetic look. “Donna and I will go back to town. I’ll get everyone looking into this case whether they’re a detective or not. We’ll find out everything there is to know about Luther Kennedy. We’ll figure out where he went. Chris, take Dillon to the hospital to get checked out.”

“I don’t need to go to the hosp—”

“That’s an order, Detective Gray. An order you had better follow this time.” He motioned to Donna and they got in his car and headed down the road.

“Come on,” Chris said. “As soon as the doctor checks you out, I’ll take you back to the station so you can help with the investigation.”

Without a word, Dillon swung himself up into the passenger seat of his friend’s four-wheel-drive pickup. But when the truck reached the end of the road and Chris was about to turn right toward town, Dillon grabbed the steering wheel.

“Turn left,” Dillon ordered.

“Left? Why?”

“Because that’s the way to the Youngbloods’ farm.”

“No way. You heard the chief.”

“Fine. I’ll hitch a ride or steal a car, whatever it takes. But I’m not going back to town when I know Luther has Ashley, and he drove west.” He jerked the door handle and opened the door.

Chris grabbed his arm. “Hold it, hold it.” He sighed heavily. “I guess I can always drive a tractor for a living if the chief fires me. Shut the dang door.”

As soon as Dillon shut the door, Chris wheeled the truck west and floored the accelerator.

Chapter Fourteen

A short, bumpy ride later, the van jerked to a stop, its brakes squealing in protest. Lauren grabbed Ashley’s hand, her terror-filled gaze latching onto hers.

It hurt Ashley even to look at the woman she’d grown up with, knowing all the death her selfishness had caused. But Ashley also knew the next few minutes might be their last. She didn’t want to die with all this anger and resentment inside. She closed her fingers around Lauren’s and squeezed, giving her a small smile of encouragement.

Shoes crunched on gravel, coming around both sides of the van toward the back.

“We can’t outfight these men,” Ashley whispered. “Our only chance is to drag this out as long as we can. Hopefully the police are looking for us. It’s our job to outsmart these guys and buy the police the time they need. Or until we can figure out a way to escape. Okay?”

Before Lauren could answer, the doors jerked open. Iceman stood in the middle, flanked by his two thugs. He drew his gun and pointed it at Ashley.

“You. Out. The other one stays here.”

Lauren’s hand squeezed painfully tight around Ashley’s, and Ashley knew exactly why. The man on Iceman’s left side had a predatory gleam in his eye as he stared at Lauren, as if he had plans for her.

“No, I can’t do this alone. I need her help,” Ashley stammered out.

Iceman’s eyes narrowed. “You said you have the codes on your computer.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But Lauren and I are a team. We each know different parts of the...encryption algorithm. We set it up that way so neither of us could take all the money ourselves. Both of us have to work together.”

Greed and lack of trust were apparently things Iceman identified with. Some of his own distrust faded and he stepped back. “All right. Both of you. Get out.”

The man who’d been staring at Lauren gave Iceman a sullen look.

“Later,” Iceman said in a low tone as if he didn’t think either of the women understood that he was promising Lauren to the other man.

A shiver ran through Lauren, transmitting to Ashley through their joined hands. They climbed out of the van, which was parked beside Dillon’s big white house. Her last memories of him, lying on the floor, blood pooling around his head, had her throat closing up.

Iceman’s gun shoved against her back. “Move. To the barn out back. Let’s find this mare of yours and get that computer.”

* * *

D
ILLON
SHOOK
THE
man’s hand and turned with Chris to head back to the truck parked in the man’s driveway. Mr. Jones had only recently moved to Destiny and he’d been in town buying groceries until a few minutes earlier. He didn’t know anything about a white van in the area. And from the way his eyes had grown big and round as he noted Dillon’s bloodstained hair and shirt and Chris’s soot-streaked face, Dillon was betting the man might be rethinking his decision to move here.

Chris pulled back out onto the rural two-lane highway. They’d stopped at half a dozen homes already and either the people weren’t home or they hadn’t noticed a van drive by. But he wasn’t giving up yet. Someone had to have seen Iceman.

The cell phone holstered on Dillon’s hip buzzed, letting him know he had a text.

Chris slanted him a look as he pulled the phone out. “Did the chief realize we aren’t on our way into town and he’s firing us both by text?”

A familiar canned message filled the screen. “It’s my home security system. One of Mr. Finley’s cows probably escaped again.” He punched the attached picture icon. A white van filled the screen.

With Iceman at the wheel.

And behind it was another car, with two more men inside.

“Turn around, turn around. Iceman’s at Harmony Haven.” They’d passed his driveway ten minutes earlier.

Chris slowed and turned around in the middle of the highway. “What’s he want at your house?”

“I have no idea. But he brought muscle with him. I count five guys total—three in the front of the van and two in a car following. No telling how many might be in the back of the van, though.” He punched another button on his phone and put the call on speaker so Chris could hear it, too.

“Last I heard,” Chief Thornton’s voice came through the phone, “they don’t allow people to use cell phones in the emergency room. I had better hear a nurse telling you to hang up or I’m going to be royally ticked off that you aren’t where I told you to be.”

“My security alarm just snapped a picture of Iceman and at least four other men heading down my driveway.”

“What the heck is he going to your house for?”

Chris slowed and turned onto the long road that led to the house.

“I don’t know,” Dillon said. “But you need to activate the SWAT team and get them over here.”

“Here? Here? Are you telling me you and Downing are at your house instead of the hospital?” The chief added a few choice swear words, not waiting for a response. “When this is over, if we all live to tell about it, I’m going to make you scrub my executive bathroom for an entire year until you learn to respect the chain of command. You got that, Gray?”

Chris laughed.

Dillon narrowed his eyes. “Yes, sir. Got it. Sir, the SWAT team—”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re gearing up right now. Let me talk to Downing.”

Dillon held the phone closer to Chris but left it on speaker.

“This is Downing, sir.”

“The team will be there in twenty minutes. We’ll bring your gear. I don’t care if you have to sit on Detective Gray or handcuff him to the bumper. Do not, under any circumstances, let him go after this Iceman on his own. That’s an order. If you’re not both waiting for us when we get there, you can kiss your jobs goodbye. By the time I bad-mouth you all over the county, you’ll be lucky if you can get a job as a door greeter at Walmart. You got that?”

Chris winced. “Yes, sir. Loud and clear. Wait for backup.”

Dillon ended the call and shoved the phone back in its holster.

Chris pulled the truck to the shoulder and cut the engine. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to convince you to wait like Thornton ordered?”

“Not in this lifetime. And if you try to handcuff me to the bumper, I’m going to fight like hell.”

“Yeah, I figured that.”

“There’s no need for you to get in trouble with me. Give me your gun and wait here for the team.”

“Shut up and pop the glove box open.”

Dillon opened the glove box and grinned. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

“I reckon I can get used to saying ‘Welcome to Walmart.’ Kind of has a nice ring to it.”

Dillon grabbed the Glock 17 out of the glove box and they both hopped out of the truck.

* * *

I
CEMAN
GRABBED
A
SHLEY
’
S
arm at the entrance to the barn. “If we see anyone, you’d better convince them nothing’s wrong and find that computer.” He shoved the gun against the side of her ribs as if to remind her it was there.

She nodded. He motioned for two of the men, the ones who’d been in the car, to accompany him and Ashley inside. The others waited outside with Lauren.

“I can have my gun out in less than a second. And there are two more gunmen behind me. Remember that.” He shoved his gun in his waistband at the small of his back. “Open the door.”

Ashley grabbed the handle and pulled the door back on its rails as she’d seen Dillon do the day before. She stepped inside the barn, blinking until her eyes adjusted to the darkened interior.

Griffin stood in the middle of the aisle, a scrub brush in one hand and a bucket of water in the other. His brows raised in surprise. “Miss Parrish. I figured you and the boss were still at the police station. The FBI man, he let you go?”

At his mention of Special Agent Kent, Ashley closed her eyes, horrible images flashing across the inside of her lids, images of the agent being swept off his saddle by the force of a rifleman’s bullet.

Iceman nudged her. “The computer,” he whispered.

She opened her eyes and saw that Griffin was frowning now, his gaze jumping from her to the man beside her, then to the others a few feet farther back. She forced her lips into what she hoped was a reassuring smile, her only goal to get Griffin to leave without becoming suspicious, so he wouldn’t get hurt.

“Mr. Griffin, good to see you again. Actually, ah, Dillon is still...at the police station. He sent me—us—back for my computer. It was in the duffel bag on the back of the mare. Dillon said she’d follow the trail back to the farm. Have you seen her?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze staying on Iceman. “Yes. She’s in her stall. Came back about an hour ago, along with the boss’s stallion. Both of the duffel bags are in the tack room.” He set the bucket and brush down beside one of the stalls. “I’ll get them for you. Why don’t you have your gentleman friend wait here and you can help me find it.”

“Okay, thanks.” She started forward, but Iceman grabbed her arm.

His gun was out in a flash and he shoved it against Ashley’s side. “Hold it. We’ll all get the bags together.”

She winced at the feel of the cold metal shoving against her ribs. Griffin waited for them to reach him, then he slowly turned and they headed into the tack room. The two bags were sitting on top of a trunk beneath a row of harnesses.

“Stop,” Iceman ordered.

Griffin looked at him in question.

“Miss Parrish will get what she needs.”

Ashley hurried forward and retrieved her computer bag. Her purse was right next to it, and she knew her cell phone was inside. But there was no way to unzip the purse and get her phone without Iceman seeing. She glanced over at Griffin, then at the duffel, trying to signal him in case he could get to her purse later.

“You’ve got the computer now. Get over here. And you’d better not be bluffing about being able to log in and get my money out of that account.”

Dread settled into the pit of her stomach like a block of ice. She hurried out of the tack room. Iceman backed up, hauling her against his side. She noticed he winced when he did so, which reminded her that she’d shot him—or at least she thought she had—in the shoulder back on Cooper’s Bluff. The injury must not have been as bad as she’d thought, because he was using his arm just fine. But that little telltale wince told her it at least pained him. That was something she’d file away in case she could use it to her advantage.

“You,” he said, motioning to Griffin with his gun. “How many workers are on the farm right now?”

“None. It’s just me.”

The deafening sound of the gun being fired filled the barn.

Griffin collapsed to the ground, holding his thigh.

Ashley gasped and started forward to help him, but Iceman jerked her back again.

“He’ll live, unless he does something stupid. Like lie to me again. I repeat. How many others are on the farm right now?”

“Four,” he gasped through clenched teeth. “They’re out riding the fence line, checking for breaks.”

“Call them back here, now. You do anything to warn them and the next bullet goes in your brain.”

Griffin kept one hand pressed against the wound on his thigh and used his other hand to pull out his cell phone. His face was pale and drawn as he punched in a number and made the first call.

A few minutes later, Griffin and the farmhands were locked in the tack room. Iceman had taken all their cell phones, ensuring they had no way to call for help. But he hadn’t taken the one from Ashley’s purse. She prayed Griffin or one of the others would realize that before it was too late.

One of Iceman’s men kicked out some planks from a stall and used them to brace the tack room door closed, effectively sealing Griffin and his men inside.

“Stay here and keep a watch out,” he instructed the three men. “If anyone approaches the house or the barn, shoot them.” He led Ashley out of the barn toward the house, with Lauren and her bodyguard pulling up the rear.

* * *

D
ILLON
AND
C
HRIS
stayed off the road and made their way through the woods toward the house. When they reached the top of the last hill that looked down on Dillon’s property, they both paused.

“Too bad we don’t have any binoculars.” Dillon braced his hand against the tree beside him. “I don’t know if we’re dealing with five men or more, or whether they’re in the house or one of the outbuildings.”

“Or both,” Chris added.

“Yeah, or both.”

“That backup is sounding really good about now.” Chris looked at his watch. “The team should be here in another ten minutes.”

“Ashley could be dead in ten minutes. I can’t wait that long.” He didn’t say what they were both thinking, that she could already be dead.

“You have a plan?” Chris asked.

“Working on it.” He studied his property with fresh eyes, not as the owner, but as a man who needed to sneak down the hill and into the house without being seen. There weren’t any shrubs up close to the house, by design. No sheltering trees close enough to take cover behind, or to enable someone to climb into an upstairs window. Thirty head of horses grazed all over the green pastures but again, no cover. The only cover was the cornfield, but that was behind and to the right of the house, with no way to get to it without being seen, unless they went back out to the main road again and worked their way from the east side of his neighbor’s property.

“I’ve got to hand it to you,” Chris said. “You built this place like a fortress. No one’s getting close to it without being seen.”

“Tell me about it. Looks like we’ve got two choices. Either we go back out and work our way through the cornfield, which will take a good twenty minutes or more, or we take our chances, hope no one’s watching, and make a run for it.”

“I vote for the cornfield.”

“I vote for making a run for it.”

“That could be suicide,” Chris said.

“We’ve both got vests on.”

“What if they take a head shot?”

“Yeah, well, that would suck.”

His cell phone vibrated again. “Maybe our backup is already here.” He pulled the phone out, but it wasn’t a text message this time. And he recognized the number that was calling him. He shot Chris a surprised glance and answered the call. “Ashley? Where are you?”