Authors: Connie Archer
He picked up one of the bundles and flipped through the stacks, counting under his breath. “One of these is maybe ten thousand dollars, so we have about two hundred thousand here. That’s just a guess. I can’t be sure unless we’re inclined to count it. This is what our kidnapper is after.”
“But didn’t Joe tell us the robbery netted more than $800,000?” Jack asked.
“I wouldn’t know about
the robbery, but I do know Taran bought land in Nova Scotia a few years ago. I have no idea what that cost him. And if he’s been living off of this for the past seven years . . . maybe this is all that’s left. Maybe this is the only cache.”
“So what do we do now?” Lucky asked.
“We take this with us and wait to be contacted. I do not want to go to the police. I’m too worried they’ll interfere
and mess it up, and Janie could get hurt in the meantime. All I want to do is hand this over and get my daughter back.”
“I think we should put this stone back where it came from,” Jack said.
“You’re right.” Eamon bent down and lifted the rock, lining it up with the opening from which it had been taken. Jack stepped forward and helped Eamon push it back into place.
“My brother brought
this upon us. God rest his soul.” Eamon brushed off his hands and lifted the container.
“What do we do now?” Lucky asked.
“No choice but to wait for some contact.”
“Maybe we should bring it back to the Spoonful. We can lock it up there.”
“There’s no way I’ll let this out of my sight,” Eamon replied. “My daughter’s life depends on this.”
“But Eamon, whatever happens, this money
belongs to the insurance company,” Lucky said.
“I don’t give a damn about the insurance company,” Eamon replied. “I just want Janie back.” He turned away, the box tucked under his arm, and followed the pathway out of the chamber. He was out of sight in a moment.
“What do you think, Jack?” Lucky whispered.
“Strange doings. Must be hard for him, knowing his brother was involved in a
robbery and a murder.”
“Let’s get out of here. I keep shivering like someone’s walking on my grave, and I’m not the least bit cold. There’s something terribly frightening about this place.”
Single file, they climbed the path to the outside. When they reached it, Lucky breathed in deeply. The night air seemed to calm her. The wind still moaned through the rocks and darkness surrounded them,
but it was a relief to be in the world again, the world they knew. She placed the lantern on the ground and shone her light in a circle. She didn’t see Eamon. She turned to Jack. “Did he start back to the car?”
“Must have. But he should have waited. We need to stick together.”
As she swung her light back toward Jack, something caught her eye near the edge of the clearing. A man’s boot.
“Oh no,” she cried.
Jack followed the beam of her light. Eamon lay facedown on the ground. They rushed toward him.
Lucky knelt. “Eamon, what happened?”
He groaned and tried to raise his head.
A beam of light shot across the clearing. “Hold it right there, folks.”
Lucky gasped and spun toward the sound. Her flashlight illuminated the face of Joe Conrad.
Chapter 41
C
ONRAD STOOD AT
the edge of the clearing, a flashlight of his own in his left hand. In his right a black angular gun was aimed in their direction.
“Joe!” The name escaped from her lips.
The man they had trusted had followed them. He had watched and listened to their efforts to locate Taran’s stash.
“All that bull about proving yourself to the company,” Jack said. “You wanted it for yourself.”
Lucky gasped. Full realization dawned. “You’re not Joe Conrad,” she said quietly. “You’re the guard who disappeared.” Remembering his own story of the robbery, she said, “You’re
Jimmy Devlin.”
“You got that right.” He laughed. “I had a feeling this guy knew where his dumbass brother hid the cash,” he said, indicating Eamon. “You . . .” he said, aiming the flashlight at Jack. “Open that box, old man.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. Lucky knew Jack wished he were still strong enough and fast enough to jump the man. Jack glanced at the box next to where Eamon lay. Eamon was
slowly regaining consciousness. Eamon pushed himself away from the ground and turned over into a sitting position. Jack, with a dark glance at their captor, walked the few steps toward Eamon and bent down to open the metal container. He pushed the lid back to reveal the bundles of cash.
Devlin’s flashlight illuminated the contents. “What the hell is this? Where’s the rest of it?” he demanded.
“That’s all that’s left,” Eamon spoke, slowly rising to his feet. “My brother bought land and lived off the money all these years.”
Lucky kept her flashlight trained on Devlin. She was frightened by the look on his face.
“You’re lying. There’s more, and I know you know where it is.”
“Not true,” Eamon replied. “I didn’t know for sure Taran was involved until just now. But now I know
it was you who killed him.”
Devlin didn’t respond to the accusation. His silence told them all they needed to know. “Then how the hell did you know to come here?” Devlin asked.
“He once told me if anything ever happened to him, I should come to the Stones. This is all that’s left. Take it. I don’t care about the money. I just want my daughter back.”
“You’ll get her back all right .
. . eventually. You . . .” he said, pointing his beam of light at Lucky. “Grab this.” He reached down and picked up a rope that lay at his feet. He tossed it to Lucky. “Tie those two up and be quick about it.
“And you two,” he said, indicating Eamon and Jack, “on the ground. Hands behind your back. Sit!”
“Where is she?” Eamon cried out. “For God’s sake, man. Tell me where she is.”
“Shut up, will ya. She’s fine. She’s at the farmers’ market. Your corn-fed girl’s right where she should be.”
Lucky moved closer to Eamon. Devlin aimed the beam at Eamon’s hands as Lucky wrapped the rope around his wrists and tied it with a knot.
“Tighter. Make it tighter and knot it again,” Devlin snarled. “Now the old man,” Devlin ordered. “Tie ’em together.”
“I’ll old man you, you
. . .” Jack grumbled.
“Jack. Shhhh,” she whispered. “You’ll set him off. Move closer to Eamon.”
Jack carefully lowered himself to the ground in a sitting position, staring at Devlin, as Lucky wrapped the end of the rope around his wrists and knotted it twice.
“Now their ankles.” Devlin took a step forward. Lucky moved in front of Jack and Eamon as they sat on the ground. She uncurled
the rope and bound first Eamon’s ankles together and then Jack’s with the same length of rope. “And don’t try anything funny. Make sure those knots are tight.
“Now you,” Devlin said. “Turn around.”
Lucky’s heart was beating madly. She felt her temper rising. She considered her options. She could swing at him and maybe even land a good punch, enough to knock him off balance. But she’d have
to wait until he put the gun down and attempted to tie her hands. She couldn’t risk Jack getting hurt. She was slight. Devlin wouldn’t perceive her as a threat, not the way Eamon, a large man, would be. She turned around and caught Jack’s eye. He knew what she was thinking. She heard the rustle of Devlin’s Windbreaker as he placed the gun on the ground. She took a deep breath. Devlin reached out
to grasp her wrists, and she ducked away. She turned quickly and gave him her best right hook. Devlin grunted and fell backward. Blood spurted from his nose.
“Way to go, Lucky!” Jack hollered.
Lucky fell to her knees, frantically feeling over the ground where she was sure Devlin had placed the gun. She wasn’t fast enough. Devlin scrambled across the distance and grabbed her coat collar.
Dragging her to her feet, he backhanded her across the face. Her head snapped around, and she flew across the clearing, landing in a heap near Jack.
“Son of a . . .” Devlin said. Blood poured down his face and over his jacket. “You little bitch . . .” His flashlight had fallen on a rock and broken. Their own flashlights, hers and Jack’s and Eamon’s, were on the ground, shining in all directions
against the tree trunks. At the moment they were no help to Devlin. The lantern was bright but cast shadows all around the clearing. She heard Devlin muttering to himself as he searched for his gun. Her vision was blurred from the blow, and her ears were ringing.
Jack leaned over. “Are you all right?” he whispered.
Lucky rubbed her cheek. “I’ll be okay.”
Devlin stood. He had found
his gun. He moved to where Eamon sat and dragged the metal box to the other side of the clearing. He grabbed one of the flashlights and shone it on Lucky. She was still dazed from the blow. Devlin reached for the end of one of the ropes and quickly tied her ankles together. Then he ran the rope around her neck once and tied her wrists behind her. She tried to struggle, but the rope only tightened
around her neck, choking her.
Devlin was breathing heavily when he finished. Lucky’s punch had done some damage. “Now,” he said to Eamon, “you’re gonna tell me where the rest of the money is. If not, you’re gonna be in more pain than you can imagine.”
“I told you. That’s it. There is no more. Taran spent it.”
“I don’t believe you.” Devlin aimed the gun at Eamon’s leg. He moved the
muzzle slightly to the left and fired once. The explosion was deafening. Lucky nearly jumped out of her skin. Eamon shut his eyes tightly but otherwise showed no reaction. An owl screeched in the treetops above them. Would the shot be heard at Eamon’s encampment? Would someone come to their rescue?
“That was a test shot. The next one goes right into your knee.”
“I told you, there is no
more money. This is it. Take it and be gone. Just tell me where my daughter is.”
“You’ll never walk right again,” Devlin warned. He raised the gun, moving closer to Eamon, and stood with the muzzle only two feet away from Eamon’s knee. It was a deadly-looking weapon. It would blow Eamon’s leg apart. Even if he survived, how would they get help to him? Lucky was afraid to breathe.
“Nothing
to say?”
Eamon glared at Devlin but kept his silence.
“Hate to do this to you, big guy, but here goes.” Devlin aimed the revolver slowly.
Chapter 42
A
LOW MOANING
sound filled the air. Shivers ran up Lucky’s spine. She looked all around, but it wasn’t possible to tell where the sound came from.
Devlin spun in a circle. “What the hell
. . .” He glanced back at Eamon who hadn’t moved.
A heavy thunk and a crashing of twigs came from the trees. Devlin turned, aiming the gun at the darkness of the woods. “Come out now or I’ll shoot.” He moved next to the trees that marked the perimeter, still aiming his gun in the direction of the noise.
A dark figure leaped from the other side of the clearing. Devlin spun around quickly,
his flashlight illuminating Daniel’s face for a brief second. Daniel held a tree limb in his hands, and as Devlin moved toward him, Daniel swung, a brutal blow that sent Devlin careening sideways. Daniel leaped on the prone man and began to pummel him with his fists. Devlin made no move to protect himself. He was unconscious.
“Daniel. Hold on,” Eamon shouted. “Help me get free.”
Daniel
stood and rushed to Eamon’s side. He undid the rope that bound his uncle and used it to quickly tie Devlin’s ankles and wrists.
Eamon laughed in relief. “That was a good move. You fooled him.” He knelt on the ground and felt for the pulse on Devlin’s neck. “He’s alive.” He looked up at Daniel. “Can you help them?”
Daniel nodded and hurried to untie Jack, helping him to his feet.
Jack,
as soon as he was steady, rushed to Lucky’s side. “Are you all right, my girl?” he asked softly.
“I will be,” she reassured him. “Probably just have a big bruise tomorrow.”
“Too bad you didn’t knock him out,” Jack said admiringly. “But you did good. I sure named you right.”
Daniel had found Devlin’s gun. He stood over the prone man, his foot on Devlin’s chest.
“Daniel!” Eamon called
out. “What are you doing?”
Daniel made no response. He slowly aimed the weapon.