Buried Truth (17 page)

W
hen he decided it was dark enough to provide some cover, Bill got out and quietly called to Tank. They set off across the flat acres of dry grass, which afforded them few places to hide. He took a zigzag route in case Oscar was already waiting, ready to shoot, which he didn’t expect. But then, he’d been wrong about plenty of things where Oscar was concerned. When he reached the building, he plastered himself against the side, listening. Tank stood quietly, watching Bill’s face for any sign that he should go into attack mode. Bill drew comfort from Tank’s presence. The dog would take on anyone to protect his master.

It might just require the both of us to bring down Oscar Birch.

The metal structure was hot to the touch, the corrugated walls burning into his back where he leaned. He listened for a while longer before making his way swiftly to the back door. The handle was fastened shut with a sturdy chain and padlock. Bill stopped. Maybe he’d been wrong again.

He ducked closer, shining a penlight on the padlock to find that it was not clicked completely shut, nor was it rigged to explode. A feeling of satisfaction swelled inside him. Now he had some reason to believe that Oscar really had been using the place for a hideout. Still, he couldn’t pull Rudley or any
Tribal Rangers off their other duties until he had proof. Especially since they were now down a man.

The thought made him grimace. If he could ever have used Al Crow by his side, now was that time. But Al had messed up in a huge way. He remembered the look of shame on Crow’s face at his error in judgment. Could Bill ever trust him again?

He refocused.
Get your head in the game, Bill, or Oscar wins. It’s that simple.

He removed the padlock and unwound the chain as quietly as he could. The door eased open with a creak. Bill put a finger to his lips as Tank watched. He knew the dog understood and would be as stealthy as a hundred-pound rottweiler could be. They entered the stifling space.

The smell of oil and rust tickled his nose as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. At least a half dozen pieces of construction equipment were parked inside, like some museum of heavy-lifting machines. Each wall of the long rectangular building housed six levels of shelves packed with neatly labeled boxes. Bill appreciated the tidiness even as he noted all the possible hiding places. His only advantage was Tank. Oscar could hide from Bill, but not from a determined canine.

Gun in hand, he began to ease along the perimeter of the warehouse, checking each shelf for gaps big enough for a man to tuck himself into. Tank stiffened and raced to the last shelving unit. Bill followed, muscles tight, breath caught in his lungs. The dog plunged into an empty space on the bottom shelf.

Bill jerked around, gun pointed at the opening. Tank was deep into the gap with only his hind end sticking out. It was not Oscar, Bill knew that much. The guy was small, but not small enough to pack himself into that spot. Lowering his
weapon, he called softly to the dog. Tank backed out of the space.

Peering into the hole, Bill saw nothing. Had the dog caught a lingering scent of some rodent or snake?

He didn’t take the time to consider it further as they continued their slow check of the building. This time when Tank went on alert, it was next to a dirt-spattered front loader. With a small whine, Tank sniffed deeply at the front scoop and each tire. Bill did a quick check under the vehicle, but saw nothing.

He was about to move on, but Tank remained focused on the vehicle, pawing at the enormous tires, rising on his hind legs to reach the glassed-in driver’s compartment. There was no visible sign of anyone up there, but Bill knew enough to trust the dog.

He readied his gun again and climbed up onto the monstrous tire. Grasping the handle, he took a calming breath and jerked the door open.

There was no sound except the dog’s paws scrabbling on metal as he launched himself up into the driver’s seat, turning in excited circles.

Bill saw the reason for Tank’s excitement. Inside was a neat stack of clothes, including a folded mail carrier’s uniform. Next to it were several bottles of water, a can of salted peanuts, a packet of beef jerky, a laptop and a small generator.

He knew Oscar wasn’t here at the moment, but he didn’t care. The man was going to be back and Bill was going to be ready. He patted Tank. “Good boy.”

They climbed down and Bill made his way back to the truck, excitement welling inside him.

Stay calm,
he warned himself.
This time you’ve got to take him down for good.

He didn’t want to involve the police, but he knew it would
be both selfish and stupid to attempt the apprehension himself. He wasn’t a police officer anymore and, as much as he longed for the chance to avenge Johnny and Leanne, it had to be done by the book. He had freed his phone, when it vibrated in his hand.

Surprised, he answered.

“Hello, Billy.” Aunt Jean’s voice sounded loud and out of place.

He had to keep the conversation short. “I’m in the middle of something right now, but I’ll call you back soon. How is Tina getting along?”

“That’s what I’m calling about.”

He bit back a sigh. Of course the little girl would be having problems after watching her uncle collapse. “What’s wrong?”

“She isn’t here, that’s what’s wrong.”

Bill jerked. “Did she run away again?”

“No, honey. She never came. I’ve been expecting that Rudley fellow to drive up any minute, but so far no sign of him. He didn’t specify an exact time he’d be here, but I cooked a nice supper for them.”

Bill’s stomach dropped as he checked his watch. It was seven-thirty. He’d watched Rudley pull out of Charlie’s driveway two hours ago. “They should have been there by now.”

“That’s what I thought. Do you suppose they stopped for dinner or something?”

He tried to keep his tone calm. “I’ll make some calls and get back to you.”

“Bill?” There was a quiver in her voice. “Should I be worried?”

He wanted to tell her no, that Rudley had stopped somewhere to treat Tina to ice cream or something. Maybe they’d gotten a flat tire or had engine trouble. But he knew deep down it was none of the above. Rudley knew the stakes. He
wouldn’t have stopped anywhere for long. “I’ll call you soon,” he said, disconnecting quickly before she could ask anything else.

He dialed Rudley’s cell. It rang and went to voice mail.

The second call went to the Tribal Ranger office.

“No, Agent Rudley hasn’t reported in,” he was told.

“Something’s wrong. He didn’t arrive at my aunt’s house. Check into it.”

If the dispatcher hadn’t known him, she might have dismissed his commands, but he knew her, the same woman, ironically, who had dispatched an ambulance after Johnny was killed. “I will right now,” she said.

There was nothing he could do by tearing out of here. Oscar would expect him to follow as soon as he got word that something was wrong. It was what Oscar would expect, perhaps what he’d planned on, and Bill would probably walk right into an ambush.

But he was not about to let Oscar harm Heather or Tina in any way, or Margot, either, for that matter. Trap or no trap, he would go.

God, I know I haven’t been in communication with You for a while, but I’m here now.

And I need help.

As she stood by the car, wishing there was something she could do for Rudley, the phone vibrated in Heather’s hand. It startled her so much she dropped it and it skidded underneath the crumpled vehicle. She was down on her hands and knees trying to fish it out when she heard Oscar return, feet scuffing along the gravel, the faint scent of cigarette smoke getting stronger. Her breath froze. Gooseflesh erupted all over her skin. She scurried around to the other side of the car, the side that looked down onto the dry gully below.

She heard rather than saw Oscar take out his own phone.

“Yes?” he said softly.

After a moment of silence he sighed. “Thank you for letting me know. Things are just fine here.”

Fine? The man truly was sick. Who would he be talking to?

She strained to listen, but there was no further conversation. Oscar must have pocketed his phone again. She smelled the acrid smoke from his cigarette as her stomach roiled with indecision. Should she try to locate the phone? Risking a quick peek under the car, she could not see anything in the darkness. Rooting around underneath would make enough noise to attract his attention.

She might ease away from the car, scoot back down the slope and try to make it to Tina and Margot. But how would that improve things? Without the phone, she still had no way to summon help and her movements would probably alert him.

She could think of only one other choice. To creep away from the car in the direction they had been driving, to lure Oscar as far from her mother and Tina as she could. She listened again, risking a quick look around the back tire.

He stood there, as still as if he were carved from moonlit stone, the glowing tip of the cigarette flickering in the near darkness. After one more unsuccessful look under the car, she eased back on her hands and knees, crawling inch by inch. Bits of rock cut into her palms as she placed them slowly and painfully.

Did no one else ever use this road? she thought in exasperation. There was no sign of any other vehicle that might stop and help.

At least Rudley was alive.

If Oscar let him stay that way.

The thought added a new layer of horror to the situation.

Closer and closer she crept to the nearest tree, a scraggly,
twisted thing she could not even identify in the gloom. At the moment, it was her greatest friend. If she could get to that shelter without being spotted, she might have the tiniest chance of making a break for it. A few miles down the road and she could start to make some noise, to draw Oscar in the direction she wanted him to go.

The tree was only two feet away now, but the shoulder narrowed to a scant six inches. She squeezed along, knowing that if she toppled down the slope it was all over. One more foot and the tree was within touching distance. She reached out a hand as if she could somehow bring it closer just by sheer force of will.

“Do you know the time?”

Heather froze, unable to even look up.

Oscar had moved around the edge of the car. “I guess maybe you don’t have your watch with you. Of course, there’s the phone.” He laughed. “But that’s underneath the car, isn’t it? Pity you didn’t get to it. It might have saved you quite a lot of work.”

Terror rippling through her body, she got to her feet to face him.

The white of his bald scalp shone in the moonlight. And that terrible grin.

She could think of nothing to say as she stared at him.

“That was clever to try to misdirect me. I can see why Bill enjoys your company. You are strong, stronger than he is, most likely.”

“You want me,” she managed. “So here I am.”

“True enough. There you are. Go get Rudley’s phone out from underneath the car, will you?”

She was stunned. He would allow her to have the phone? Of course not. He’d take it and finish her off. Then she remembered the gun tucked in the back of her pants. If she could have a moment, just one second out of his sight.

“Okay.” Dropping back to her knees, she eased as flat as she could, feeling Oscar’s eyes on her every move. Pushing herself down and blinking against the grit that found its way into her eyes, she patted her hands around in a show of finding the phone. It was there, all right, tucked against the rear wheel. She gripped it in one hand and made sure the gun was easily accessible with the other. When she handed over the phone she’d have only a moment.

The thought of pulling the trigger made her go cold inside, but it was the only way she could save Rudley, her mother and Tina.

And Bill.

In that moment, she wished more than anything that she could feel the warmth of Bill’s embrace one more time, to relive the rare moments of laughter they’d shared. She did not know if God would ever give her the chance even to say goodbye to Bill before he returned to his life of solitude and she to her career, but it didn’t stop the longing from rising in a powerful tide inside her.

God, help me.

The lives of five people rode on the next sixty seconds.

Heather slid out from underneath the car, ignoring the dirt that made its way up her pant legs as she did so. Climbing to her feet, she moved closer and saw Oscar standing with his hand outstretched, ready to take the phone. In the other, he cupped some object she could not make out in the dim light. He was now standing at the extreme edge of the road, where it dropped off into the ravine below.

She handed it to him, fingers trembling.

He reached out a calloused hand to take it.

She whipped the gun from her waistband and pointed it at him.

His eyes widened. “Well, well. You
are
a resourceful one. Rudley’s gun, I assume?”

Heather ignored him. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to lie down on the ground and I’m going to call for help. If you move, I’ll shoot you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been told you know how to handle a gun. Very impressive, but that’s not what’s going to happen.”

It was a trick to unsettle her and she ignored it. “Lie down on the ground right now.”

He laughed, a grating, unnatural noise. “While I appreciate your bravado, there’s something you should see. Down there.”

He jerked his head at the dry riverbed below.

Heather figured it must be a trick and didn’t move.

“I’m afraid I didn’t really fall for your distraction technique,” Oscar continued. “It wasn’t hard for me to circle around and find them.”

She felt a chill creep into her body. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, just secured them in place for the time being. There.” He cocked his head down below. “At the bottom.”

Feeling the panic inside beginning to mount, Heather took a few steps toward the edge, keeping a keen eye on Oscar. He made no attempt to move. Risking a quick peek, she saw them, her mother and Tina, hands tied together around the base of a tree, mouths covered with some sort of tape.