Twisted Shadows (36 page)

Nate opened the door wide enough for the man to step in, then he pushed him toward the wall with one hand, keeping his weapon ready in the other. “Hands against the wall.”

The man complied and Nate frisked him. He found a knife in an ankle sheath and a pistol in the small of his back. He took both and backed away, tucking the gun into his belt and handing the knife to Sam. Then he looked at a billfold he'd found in a pocket.

Jack Maddox. Arizona driver's license, Flagstaff address.

“Can I turn around?” Maddox said.

“Slowly. Do everything very, very slowly,” Nate said, keeping his weapon pointed at him.

Maddox turned. He was older than Nate had first thought. His hair had been covered by a hunter's cap, but Nate saw the gray on the sides. His face was weathered yet there was a vitality in it and in his steps.

He was obviously a man who spent a lot of time outside. He also handled a rifle with ease.

“Who are you?”

Instead of answering, the man looked over toward Sam. “You're Samantha.”

She nodded.

“I'm Jack Maddox, a friend of your father's.”

“Which father?” Nate asked.

“Carroll. David Carroll,” he said.

Samantha broke in. “You know where my mother is?”

“Yes. She's safe.”

Nate watched as Sam blinked and her face dissolved. A tear rolled down her cheek. Only then did he realize the extent of her concern. She'd expressed it, of course, but she'd kept a tight rein on her emotions.

But Nate wasn't as willing to accept his word. “How do we know that?”

“She told me about the cabin. I lost you after you left the Faulkner place.”

“You were the one who shot the sniper?”

He winced. “Did a helluva poor job of it, too. Meant to kill the bastard. Shooting a horse, two harmless women. That's damn low.”

Nate concurred, but he still wasn't quite ready to accept Maddox. “You alone?”

“There's someone with Patsy,” Maddox said, looking at Samantha. “I was sent to look after you. Patsy hoped you wouldn't be a target, that once Merritta was dead, you would be safe. Thought that up to the time she knew someone had prowled through her house and then she heard what happened in Boston. By then we couldn't find you.” He looked at her accusingly. “You should have told her what happened in Boston.”

“I thought it would worry her.”

“You being dead would worry her a lot more,” the man said.

Sam's face flushed, then she nodded. “You're right, of course, but I thought what she thought, that when Paul Merritta died and I returned here, that would be the end of it.”

Nate interrupted. “Who in the hell are you? Besides your name.” He lowered his weapon but kept it in his hand.

“Patsy's husband and I served together in 'Nam. There were two others. One's dead. The other is Simon. He's with Patsy now. When Red—David Carroll—realized he was going to die, he asked us to look after her if she ever needed help.”

“Red?” Sam asked. “Why Red? He didn't have red hair.”

Maddox looked embarrassed. “Private joke. We all had nicknames. Never used our real ones.”

“Vietnam? What did you do?” Nate interrupted. “What branch?”

Maddox looked as if he wasn't going to answer, then shrugged. “The Company.”

CIA. That explained a lot. Especially how Sam's mother was able to disappear so completely.

Maddox sat down. “Each of us was approached as we were finishing school. Never knew why we were picked, but we were given a choice. CIA or the army. The four of us stayed in until the war ended. Red and Simon remained in a few more years, until the Company started getting involved in some internal affairs they didn't like. All of us had saved one another's hide in those years, and we kept in touch.”

Nate absorbed that. He knew some others who had taken the same track. The legion of ex-CIA spooks was massive and more fraternal than many families. They looked after their own. “Your driver's license says you live in Arizona.”

“North of Flagstaff. I'm a white water guide now. Own an outside adventures company.”

Nate would take help where he could get it. Ex-CIA was a bonus.

“Where is my mother?” Sam asked.

“Simon has her safe, but she wouldn't leave Steamboat until she knew we had you covered, too. She's a stubborn woman.”

“Like her daughter,” Nate muttered.

She shot him a look. “What do we do now?”

“Simon's moving your mother around. But it's time to get you two together. Particularly with McLean. I'll stay with you two and watch your back.”

Nate looked at him for a long time. “Do we have a choice?”

“I don't think so. I'm pretty good at picking up trails, and you don't have any backup. Not now. They're ready to fry your ass back in Boston.”

“How do you know that?”

“We still have a few friends in strategic places. Unfortunately, we think someone else does, too.”

“You don't know who?”

“Patsy's not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was a witness years ago when a Boston policeman on the Merritta payroll killed an undercover agent. She never heard the name. She thinks whoever did it might be the one causing you problems.”

Nate froze. “What?”

Maddox ignored him. “I think—and it's really just a guess—Paul Merritta protected your mother, at least kept anyone from looking for her by staging her death. Someone else, though, had to be involved. I think the reason he sent for you was to warn you, wrap you in his protection. He died sooner than he thought.”

“And you have no idea who is after Sam and her mother?”

“No, but a place to start is the Boston police department, thirty-four years ago. I have the names. I'm trying to get photos. When they arrive, I want Patsy to look at them. Maybe she can identify the killer. I want you to look at them, too. You might know some of them.”

“I might,” Nate said wryly. An old spook had accomplished more in a few days than he had in years. He comforted himself with the thought he hadn't had Patsy Carroll's input.

Sam limped over to the chair and sat. “Who is Simon? Or is that a nickname, too?”

Maddox looked at her appreciatively. “He lives in Durango. That's one reason Red contacted us. Neither of us were too far away.” He looked at the gun in Nate's hand. “Can I sit down? I've been out there for a while.”

“Go ahead,” Nate said. “Why didn't you knock immediately instead of skulking around?”

“Wanted to make sure no one else was around or following you. I also wanted to make sure you were who you seemed to be. Did some checking on you, McLean. Seems you're in a lot of trouble.”

“So are you, after that shooting.”

“Didn't see you hanging around for the police. Kind of endeared you to me, you being FBI and all.”

Nate lowered the weapon. “Did you know there's a contract out on Mrs. Carroll and her daughter?”

Maddox shook his head. “Doesn't surprise me, though. But we didn't think they would try to kill the girl before they found the mother. We thought they would try to follow her to get to Patsy. That's why your mother tried to let you know she was safe but didn't tell you how to get in touch with her.”

“Why? What does she have?”

“Don't know. I just know it must be dynamite to invoke this kind of response. I know Red always feared that someone would come for her someday.”

“The Merrittas?”

He shook his head. “I really don't know, though I doubt it.”

“What was Red's real name?” Nate asked. The question had been plaguing him for a long time.

“Patsy will have to tell you that.”

Nate studied the older man. Late fifties, he decided. He instinctively trusted the man, and he rarely did that. But did he trust him enough to put Sam's life in his hands?

“What do you suggest now?”

“I think we ought to get out of here,” Maddox said. “After Patsy told me about this cabin, I did a trace of my own. Wanted to know if it could be done. Red was good, careful. But sometimes you can't be careful enough. It took me time, but I found it. I just needed a general location. I ran a check of ownerships of properties of five acres or more within a hundred-mile radius, searching for corporation ownership. Then I checked out each of the corporations. This one had the oddities I was looking for. It was obviously a blind.”

“But you knew one existed,” Sam said.

“Yep, but if I really wanted to find you, it's one of the trails I'd pursue. It makes sense that there would be a safe house nearby.”

Sam looked at Nate. “What do you think?”

“I think he's right,” Nate said. This place had worried him from the beginning. He hadn't liked the utter isolation of it. It might offer solitude, but that very quality also prevented adequate support systems.

“I want to speak to my mother,” Sam said.

“Not from here,” Nate replied, and Maddox nodded.

Sam looked from one to the other. “How did my father meet my mother?”

It was a question, Nate knew, to answer the last of her doubts.

“He was an investigator, specialized in corporate espionage and crime. He had an office in the Chicago area. Patsy found him there, said she wanted to disappear and needed help.

“He knew all the tricks. We all did. But in the midst of arranging a new identity for her, he fell in love. Never fell out, apparently. Contacted Simon two and a half years ago, said she might be in danger from a mobster and asked him to be there for her if she ever needed anything.”

There was a lack of bullshit and minimum of explanation that Nate appreciated. Never volunteer more information than was requested in the first place. Offer less whenever possible. He decided to be quiet as Sam asked the questions.

“What's Simon's last name, and why did he rather than you stay with my mother?”

“He was closer. Has a private plane. When you were first contacted, Patsy called Simon and he flew up here. He'd been waiting to be of service. I don't think either of us doubted something would happen eventually, given the history Red gave us. She didn't call him in, though, until she returned to her house and saw someone had been there. When he arrived, he scouted out the place, saw a van that was suspicious and told her to go out the back door and meet him a block away.”

“Why didn't you come directly to my house?”

“I didn't get here until after McLean arrived. I saw two cars. Then you pulled your disappearing act. I saw you puncture his tire and figured you were trying to get away from him, that he was one of the bad guys. But then I followed you. Cute trick with changing the cars, by the way. Your mother told me about Terri Faulkner so I had a damn good idea where you were going.” He grimaced. “Then I followed the shooter instead of you. Someone picked him up, and I lost you. Not as sharp as I used to be.”

“Sharp enough,” Nate said. “I understand there's a contract to grab and snatch both Samantha and her mother.”

“Why didn't my mother go to the authorities?” Sam asked.

“It was a policeman who committed murder. She has no idea what happened to him, but she knew the Merrittas had bought off members of the department. She doesn't know how high the corruption goes or who to trust beyond me and Simon.”

“And why should I trust
you
?” Sam persisted.

Nate hid a smile at that. Sam should be in the CIA. He didn't know whether she had always been this suspicious, but she certainly had honed that quality lately.

“Your mother said if you had any doubts, I should mention Ginger.”

Nate saw a smile spread over her face. “My stuffed cat when I was growing up,” she explained.

Nate grimaced and glanced away from her. His suspicions were as healthy as hers, and he wasn't quite as easily convinced.

Too much had happened. There were too many unexpected characters. He would swear that someone tried to kill her—not snatch and grab. That meant there might be more than one player involved. But he didn't want to say that in front of Sam.

Judging from Maddox's expression when he'd mentioned the snatch and grab, he'd had the same opinion. There were two games in progress simultaneously, one more deadly than the other.

Someone wanted what Patsy Carroll knew—or had in her possession—and someone else just wanted both her and her daughter dead.

twenty-eight

They decided to leave immediately and stop at a motel somewhere along the way.

At her suggestion, Maddox brought in the dog that had been waiting, without sound, at the foot of the steps. He was part shepherd and part unknown. But he was a handsome fellow with good manners.

He tolerated Sam scratching his ears and looked grateful when she offered a bowl of water.

“His name is Jock,” Maddox said. “Jock and Jack, everyone says. He goes on all my trips. Keeps the tourists in line.” He cracked a smile for the first time.

Sam saw Nathan's face. She'd been astounded at how quickly Sarsy had taken to him, but he was not happy about the dog. And though Jock had approached her with no hesitation, he kept a respectful distance from Nathan.

Sam wasn't sure where they were going. Jack Maddox had been unclear on that. It was better, he said, not to mention locations.

How long to get there?

“A while.”

She didn't like the answers, nor she noticed, did Nathan, yet in him she saw understanding. These men spoke the same language. Nate just wasn't used to being on the receiving end.

“I can call my mother?”

“When we get out of here,” Nate broke in. “You might want to return, and I don't want a phone call traced back to this location. They may never find this place. I just think there's a possibility that they could.”

There wasn't much to pack. Neither of them had salvaged any clothes after the shooting. Nathan had purchased several changes of clothes for both of them, but it was basic jeans and shirts.