Authors: Glenn Muller
Tags: #thriller, #crime, #suspense, #murder, #action, #detective, #torque, #glenn muller
“And perhaps you could bring your blanket
over here. Shared body heat is a good survival technique.”
“Dream on, Braveheart,” she said. Then she
giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just that you want to get into my
pants—and yet I’m in yours. Poor Chas.” But she stood up and came
over to him. Fenn had her sit between his knees, tandem-style, with
the blanket over both of them.
“I think you’ll find this more comfortable,”
he said.
“Okay,” Kim said, resignedly. “But don’t get
any ideas. I’m already spoken for.”
CHAPTER
47
The matchbox was on the floor beside the gel
fuel tin so it was a simple matter to remove the lid and relight
the flame.
“You’re spoken for?” He felt Kim nod, her
hair brushing his chin lightly. He was right, it was definitely
warmer this way.
“Actually,” said Fenn, “I was surprised you
didn’t already have a significant other when I asked you out.”
“Who did the asking out?” She twisted to get
eye contact.
“Okay. But you know what I mean. You’re a
catch. You’ve got looks and money. How come you didn’t have a
guy?”
Kim took a deep breath. More of a sigh.
“Two reasons. One is I’m picky. The other is
I don’t know how to pick ‘em.” She nudged him in the ribs.
Now was the time for his apology.
“May I explain?”
“Ooh. Two stories in one night. Your
grandmother would be proud.”
“The people who kidnapped you murdered my
father.” He felt her body tense but she didn’t move, or say
anything. “My father sent me a disc that contains a formula for a
street drug. They kidnapped you to force me to hand it over. I have
it in my pack and would have gladly traded it for your life, if I’d
got the chance, although I somehow doubt we’d be allowed to just
walk away.”
“Why didn’t you just go to the police from
the start?”
“They attacked me before I knew I was
involved. Once I figured things out it had become personal. You
came into the picture very early and I really didn’t expect—”
“So you only asked me out to get information
for your own vendetta?” Kim got to her knees and turned to face
him.
“
You
asked
me
out. And, no, I
would never do that.”
“Who else knows about this? Do you even have
any other friends?”
It was Fenn’s turn to sigh. This wasn’t going
at all well.
“Apart from Eileen and Larry, the other
people who know are Asha Fabiani and Joe Posada from DriveCheck.
And Tony, of course.”
“Tony.” Kim’s body sagged. “He will be okay,
won’t he?”
“Tony’s a tough guy. He’ll pull through just
fine.”
“He’s got the darkest eyes. I just love the
way they sparkle. You should have seen the way he fought off the
guys chasing me. He told me to take the car and drive away without
a thought for himself.” She sat back as if Fenn were just another
piece of furniture and rearranged the blanket. “Which hospital is
he at?”
“The one in Milton. Unless they’ve moved
him.”
“Why would they move him?”
“I don’t know. It’s just something they do
occasionally.”
Why had he even said that? It was
inconceivable that Tony would succumb to his injuries, although
Fenn showed students gruesome simulations of rollovers, every week,
and the result was never good.
“Soon as I get out of here, I’m going to find
him and propose,” Kim spoke as if talking about getting a
pedicure.
“Propose?”
“Ask him to marry me.”
“Marry you?”
“Yes. Marry me. Is that so hard to
grasp?”
“A little sudden don’t you think.”
“Love at first sight, Chas. Something clicked
between us that night at the barn. I felt it and I know he did too.
I mean, our date, what there was of it, was fun. I guess I never
told you that. But I haven’t been able to get Tony off my mind.
Tell me I’m not picking the wrong guy again. Or …” She paused.
“He’s not already spoken for, is he? I never thought of that. Has
he a girlfriend? A wife?” She twisted around to look at Fenn.
“No. Nobody. He’s not spoken for.”
Kim let out her breath. “Well he is now.”
Indeed. Well that certainly answered that
question.
== == ==
The task force team leader found Detective
Inspector Lareault within the Special Operations trailer. It was
now one a.m.
“Thermal and acoustics confirm four males
inside the house. No other persons on site.”
Lareault had to ask. “Could they detect a
dead body?”
“If the death was recent there would be
residual heat. As long as the deceased wasn’t in a refrigerator or
freezer our sensors could pick it up.”
That was the answer he would have to give
Jack Klaasen who was now sitting in a squad car with Frank
Bloomfield. Klaasen had come storming in like a one-man shock wave,
and who could blame him when his daughter was being held against
her will and her fate uncertain. Bloomfield had intercepted him and
then, like oil on water, had kept the man in a reasonably calm
state of mind.
“Our snipers are set up. We can storm the
gate and go in with flashbangs anytime.”
“Good to know,” said Lareault. “But I don’t
want the bad guys escaping through the woods in the dark.”
“There’ll be no escaping, sir.”
Lareault had heard that one before. “If your
Special Team’s report is valid then we’ve nothing to lose and
everything to gain by waiting for daybreak. I’d like to avoid a
running gunfight in the dark and, if Fenn and the hostage are in
the woods, we’ll have a better chance to coordinate our search
effort when it gets light.”
“If you say so, sir. Though there are other
scenarios.”
“Such as?”
“When was the last time you heard from your
inside man?”
Lareault checked his watch. “About fifteen
hours ago, although we’re quite certain he’s up here.” Lareault
could see where the team leader was going with this but let him
continue.
“Okay; alternate scenario one has Charleton
Fenn showing up, joining the gang, and the hostage and your officer
are killed and disposed of.
“Alternate scenario two has Charleton Fenn
showing up, joining the gang, but your officer escapes into the
woods with the hostage.”
Lareault agreed. “Those are both viable
possibilities but they don’t change the timetable. Unless there is
a tangible development, we still wait for dawn.”
“Understood.” The team leader walked back to
his cluster of men and Lareault went to have a talk with Jack
Klaasen.
Klaasen had been chatting with Bloomfield as
amiably as could be expected under the circumstances yet his eyes
had rarely left Lareault. He exited the squad car as the detective
inspector approached. Half a head shorter than Lareault, Klaasen
had close-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes. He appeared to have
the wiry strength of a terrier, which matched his reputation, and
his grip was firm although his hands were no longer calloused from
long days with a hammer.
“Any news?”
“We’re monitoring the situation, Mr. Klaasen.
As soon as there is a development we will let you know.”
“And what kind of development do you expect?
A gunshot? Somebody—my Kim—being killed?”
Lareault put his hands up. “We think it’s
possible that your daughter has escaped into the woods.” He was
taking the soft option but it was the option he also wanted to
believe.
“Then why aren’t these men out searching for
her? Doesn’t your helicopter have heat sensors? If it’s a matter of
money …”
“It’s not a matter of money, sir. And, yes,
we do have that equipment. The problem is that large animals roam
the woods at night; deer, bear, wolves, fox, coyotes. They are not
a threat but they do give off false signatures. It would be
counterproductive to have our men stumbling around in the dark
chasing deer.” Lareault sensed an objection coming and got in
first.
“There will be a search—though not until
first light. While I don’t want to give you false hope, Mr.
Klaasen, I am optimistic of a positive outcome.”
Klaasen studied him with a steady gaze yet
his face showed the strain he was under.
“Is there not something I can do? Sitting
here in suspense is killing me.”
Lareault understood. He looked over at the
task force waiting by the MPV in a relaxed state of readiness. They
were also terriers. He turned back to Klaasen.
“If you want something to do, then come with
me.”
CHAPTER
48
Thursday October
29th
Chico had let the fire die and was sitting
in the dark. Through the sliding glass doors he saw Rowan pause
briefly at the end of the deck then continue his fourth and final
circuit of the house. Rowan held his gun casually but he patrolled
with a
do it and get it over with
attitude. The woods at
night were no place for a vivid imagination.
He finished his coffee and took the mug to
the kitchen. The front door slammed shut and Rowan strode over to
the deck entrance and closed the blinds again.
“Were these open for a reason?” he said.
“Just making sure you weren’t mugged by a
raccoon.”
“Well, whatever is rustling around out there
is going to be Jenner’s problem for the next few hours. I’ll tell
him to come down.”
He took off his jacket and ascended to the
second floor where he met Jenner on the landing.
“I thought you’d be asleep.”
“A little tough with Tad wheezing and
moaning. You’ll soon see what I mean.”
“Could he have a punctured lung?”
Jenner tapped his fingers on the stair
rail.
“We’ll see how he is in the morning. Speaking
of which, I want to get an early jump on our two rabbits. I
disabled Fenn’s car in case they make it to the road, though we
should be able to hunt them down before then.”
“When we found Tad they were heading deeper
into the forest. My guess is they’ll hunker down somewhere until it
gets light. It would be good to resolve that issue before the boss
gets here.”
Jenner picked up the receiver on the hall
phone and dialed a number. He returned it to the cradle almost
immediately. “That was my number. Apparently I’m busy. Just like
everybody else.”
“Screwy country phones. If we were meant to
live in trees we wouldn’t have invented chainsaws and asphalt.”
Rowan peered into a room and finding it suitable made for the
bed.
Jenner started down the stairs. “First light
is in about five hours. Be ready to go when I call you.”
“I’d better be getting overtime for this
shit,” Rowan said, and closed the door.
Chico was also heading to bed.
“Crash out anywhere you like,” Jenner told
him. “Just keep an eye on Tad, will you.”
Chico nodded. His throat was no longer red
but it was still sore.
Jenner made a coffee and carried it to the
security room. The camera monitors were the same as ever. No
movement on either side of the gate. He took the Remington from the
gun locker and reloaded it with the same plastic-coated shells he’d
removed a few hours before. There was a picture of geese on the
shell box. High-density long-range birdshot.
Short-range peopleshot.
In the living room he stirred the fireplace
embers and tossed on a log. A red glow, a wisp of smoke, then
ignition. He settled into an armchair and pulled the Polaroids of
Marjorie Dynes-Harrowport from his pocket. She would have been on
this very rug facing him. And could be. With these pictures in his
possession such things were possible.
They were worth preserving so he went back to
the kitchen and searched the drawers until he found a box of small
freezer bags. Harrowport probably used them for keeping berries or
filets of any fish he had caught. They were a good size for
protecting the snapshots. Placing them back-to-back for easy
viewing, he slipped the bag into the inside breast pocket of his
suit. First the bag of cash. Now the pictures. This gig was
improving all the time.
He stopped by the full-length mirror in the
foyer. His suit was of good quality but the pants and shirt needed
pressing. He’d left his tie upstairs. Maybe when he went to get it,
he’d borrow Harrowport’s shaving gear. And perhaps some of
Harrowport’s clean clothes as well. Why not? If he was going to
have the guy’s wife he may as well share his threads, too.
The caffeine started to kick in and the
upside was the same as the downside—it would keep him awake. Unless
he found something to do this was going to be a long night. He
picked up the Remington and went outside. It had rained just enough
to make everything wet yet leave no puddles. Light reflecting off
the rising mist created a grey dome over the house and down to the
perimeter of the trees. Jenner walked toward the garage. He’d not
been there since depositing his hostage, and wanted to see how
she’d gotten free.
The chair was by the workbench, the loose arm
at an angle. The snips and cut wires were on the floor. From what
he remembered, she had no shoes. After a few hours of trekking
through the backcountry she’d be getting Fenn to carry her. Easy
prey. Too bad they hadn’t brought the dogs.
== == ==
Jack Klaasen fit right in with the members
of the Task Force. They’d strapped him into a Kevlar vest and given
him a helmet and an earpiece. He couldn’t be part of the assault,
of course, but he could listen in and would be allowed on the
grounds as soon as it was deemed safe. If his daughter wasn’t
immediately located, an armed officer would escort him wherever he
wanted to search.
Lareault checked his watch. Five-forty. In
twenty minutes nautical twilight would signify the end of night. A
half hour after that, civil twilight would make everything easily
visible. He beckoned the ETF team leader into the Special-Ops
trailer.