Bait the devil, p.21
Bait the Devil, page 21
“And leave us behind?”
“We’ll figure out a way to get back. Just hang tight.”
Loren wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Where’s your cousin and her partner? I thought they were supposed to be here.”
Vivian gave him a long, hard look while she chewed her food. He returned the same look while he waited.
She swallowed. “To be frank, I have no clue. They arrived and then left again.”
He made a hmm noise and resumed eating.
“Why did you call me here?” Vivian asked.
“I think I know where Hal’s been hiding out.”
Vivian took a moment to digest what he’d said and the few bites of food she’d consumed. If they could find Hal, maybe she could get some solid answers on who had sent the kill squad after her. He obviously knew something.
“How long have you suspected you knew?” she asked.
“It hit me last night. When I went to tell Sergeant Larrabee, I found out he was gone. I wasn’t going to disturb your sleep, and I have no way to contact your cousin.”
“You could have told Sloane. She’s a retired private investigator and friends with us.”
Loren’s craggy face scrunched. “Who?”
“The redhead who works here.”
Loren shook his head. “I don’t recall seeing a redhead.”
“Cherry could have done it too.” Vivian held up her hands. “That’s beside the point. I’m here now. So, where do you think Hal is hiding?”
The old lawyer continued eating and downing his coffee, speaking between bites and chewing. “North of Boise, there’s a golf course he and Charley would play hooky and visit. I overheard a conversation between them one time about an abandoned church that sits across the road from the golf course property.”
“You think he’s hiding there?”
“I do.”
“What golf course is this? I’ll call Cassius and have him check it out.”
Loren reached across the table and grasped her hand. “No.”
She scowled.
He released her and held up the offending hand in surrender. “If I’m wrong, the last thing I want is a lawman giving me grief. I’m already seen as losing my edge and should just hang up my hat and retire.”
Vivian softened toward him. “You were wanting Dot and T.J. to check it out, weren’t you?”
“They are bounty hunters, aren’t they?”
“But Hal isn’t a bounty. This Cade Porter that Hal associated with is. That’s their first priority.”
Loren sighed and tapped a meaty finger against the tabletop. “Then I’m left with the only other option.”
Vivian didn’t like the tone of his voice. “Loren, the only option is to have law enforcement check it out.”
He shook his head. She grabbed his still-tapping hand and squeezed.
“You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “You can’t tell me the other night didn’t light a fire in your belly.”
“It most certainly did not. Loren, I killed a man. And so did you,” she said, her voice pitching a bit higher than she liked.
“My dear, I’m an old man on my last leg. I haven’t felt this fired up in a long time. But I don’t like to be the butt of anyone’s joke, and we both know how law enforcement gets when they’re sent on a goose chase.”
“See, even you think this is bad idea and Hal’s not there. There’s no need to run off halfcocked over it. Besides we’re hours away. Even if we did go, and if Hal is there, he could pack up and move locations before we ever arrived.”
Loren sat back against his chair and gnawed on his lips.
“Loren, I know you mean well, and I understand your motives, but this is a bad idea all around. Those men will still be looking for me and probably you too. Take my advice and sit this one out. I’ll talk with Cassius. He’s not like the rest.”
The old lawyer threw his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. You’re right. You call that statie and let him know.”
“I will. I’ll ask him to keep this between us. If Hal is there and Cassius finds him, then all the better, right?”
Loren smiled. “Right.”
Suspicion slithered through Vivian at the way he spoke, but she left it alone. “Let’s finish breakfast.”
*
Before she returned to the ranch, Vivian met up with Sloane, who loaned her a phone to call Cassius. He didn’t answer, so she left a message and asked him to call Sloane to let her know he received the message and would check in on Loren’s suspicions.
After reassuring herself that Loren was set for at least another day or two at the bed and breakfast, Vivian headed back to the Ybarra ranch.
She arrived to chaos. The ranch yard was covered in chicken feathers and some of the yard furniture was broken and scattered. Was that a rooster’s head? Vivian bailed out of the Ford.
“Angela! Ashley!” Good God, if something had happened to them while she was gone …
“Behind the house!” came Angela’s shout.
Vivian ran to the back and came to a sudden halt.
Angela knelt beside one of the guardian dogs. His body was ravaged and bloodied. Two dead goats, their bodies ripped open, were dangling from the fence. Chicken carcasses littered the ground mingled with an array of feathers.
And lying dead, half its skull blown away, was a huge brown bear.
“Oh my God. Angela?”
“I’m fine. The girls are fine; they’re inside. I have the vet and the wildlife people coming. Get me some towels. Do not let Bethany out here to see this.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Vivian ran inside and slammed into Ashley. The young woman’s face was white as a sheet.
“Is she okay? Angela?” Ashley stammered.
“She’s fine. Keep Bethany in here and away from windows.”
Ashley nodded.
“Towels?” Vivian asked.
Ashley perked up at this. Give her something to do and she was all business. She ran into the laundry room and came back with a stack and a bottle of iodine balanced on top.
“I know Petey got in a fight with the bear. She’ll need this to help.”
Vivian took the stack. “Watch Bethany.”
Outside, she hurried back to Angela’s side as the older woman worked to save the life of her guardian dog.
But Angela’s pack and the two other guardian dogs were missing. “Where are the rest of them?” Vivian asked.
“I’ve got them all locked in the barn with the goats and the chickens that fucking bear didn’t kill.”
The dog whimpered and heaved. Angela pressed an iodine-soaked towel to his injuries.
“Damn it. I’m going to lose him.”
“Why is a bear this far out of the forest?” Vivian added another towel to a gruesome wound on the dog’s hind end.
“I think it was sick. There was so much wrong when it attacked.”
Over the sound of the dog’s agony, multiple vehicles arrived. Seconds later, the vet, followed closely by the wildlife wardens, joined them.
“Oh, Angela,” the vet said as he dropped beside her. “I don’t know if I can do anything to save him,” he said as he peeled away the towels to examine the wounds.
Angela sat back on her heels and looked the vet dead in the eye. “Make him comfortable. It’s all I ask.”
Vivian climbed to her feet and backed away to let the vet do his thing. She watched the wildlife warden examine the bear.
“Shit,” he spat.
“What?” Angela barked.
“Ms. Ybarra, this bear has a tracker on it. And it doesn’t look like anything of ours.”
Angela glared at the man from her kneeling position, refusing to leave her dying dog’s side. “I don’t give two shits if that bear belonged to the fucking president. It killed my livestock and nearly killed me and has killed my guardian dog. I want all of this documented, and I want to know why it came on my property.”
The wildlife guy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I just thought you should know.”
The vet returned and Angela turned her focus on him and the dog. Vivian wandered closer to the wildlife agent, careful to stay back from the bear as far as she could.
“Is there some kind of significance to tracking devices?” she asked.
He glanced at her, then gave a grim nod. “There is. We usually have them on animals we’re monitoring. Sometimes we put one on an animal that has been reported to be a nuisance in case it becomes a repeat offender.”
“And the collar on this one?”
“Is nothing like any collar we or the State of Idaho Game and Wildlife Department uses.” Using the end of a pen, he lifted the collar from the deceased bear’s neck. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It almost looks like one of those devices people use to administer drugs to their system.”
Vivian was about to ask more about that when Ashley called for her.
She hurried to the other side of the house. “What is it?”
“Sloane just called. She said your lawyer friend is gone.”
“What?”
Ashley shrugged. “Apparently, he bought a vehicle and left Euskadi. He’s going back to Boise.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Dot and T.J. had been hunkered down on a hilltop, looking down at the farm for the last two hours but saw no activity. Nestled as it was in the foothills, it afforded lots of rocky outcroppings and gaps to hide in, but it lacked tall vegetation to shield them from the sun. Neither of them had any blinds the color of this landscape.
The midmorning sun beat down on them. Sweat left streaks in the dirt that coated both her and T.J.’s skin.
“What do you think?” he asked, lowering the binoculars.
“I think they were only here when we arrived, and this place is completely abandoned.”
“I don’t. I think they’re lazy asses and sleeping in. There are no animals, that’s for certain. But they are people here.”
Dot shifted around, careful not to raise any dust, and faced the opposite direction toward the place downhill where they’d parked the Suburban. “I say we get out of this sun and reassess in the car.” She titled her head back to look at T.J.
“Fine,” he groused. “I’ll set up a camera.”
She waited for him as he rigged a digital recording camera to stay focused on the farm. Once he was satisfied with its positioning and made sure it worked correctly, they headed back to the Suburban.
Camped out in the cooling interior, they rehydrated and snacked on jerky and energy bars.
“What I wouldn’t give for a good ole MRE,” T.J. muttered around a stick of jerky.
“I’d take this over those any day. They were complete garbage.”
“Says the pilot who got to fly back to the base and eat a hot meal instead of being stuck out in the field.”
“Not my fault you chose the wrong MOS.” She popped the last bite of her energy bar.
“Cook was not an option when I enlisted.”
His phone dinged and the camera app activated. “We’ve got movement.”
He tilted the phone so she could see the screen along with him. The recording went for five minutes, and still no footage of human beings appeared.
“Might have been wildlife,” Dot said as she repositioned herself in her seat.
“Maybe.” T.J. continued to watch the screen. “I think that far building is where they brought the package out from.” He turned the phone and pointed to the building he was referring to. “Looks like an old stable.”
“It does. They made sure we couldn’t check things out, that was for sure.”
The makeshift pad where she’d landed the helicopter was hard to see from their stakeout vantage point. The building where they had been holed up in while they waited to leave was smack in the middle of the whole facility. Less than fifty yards from it was a house. This was where they’d centered their focus.
“Bet they have all the vehicles and any other equipment hidden in the outbuildings,” T.J. said.
“I still don’t think anyone is there,” Dot countered.
Her phone vibrated against her leg, and she dug it out. They were in a region they could pick up signals from local towers yet remain hidden electronically from anyone seeking their location. It was Vivian via text.
You’re not going to believe this, so here it goes.
She looked at T.J. “Get a load of this. A bear attacked my family ranch. Killed some of the animals before Ama put it down.”
“What the fuck?”
What the fuck indeed. Dot was hundreds of miles away from the ranch and this shit happened. Yes, Angela was there, and her mother was more than capable of handling situations like this. But she was getting older. What if Bethany had been outside when the bear attacked? Or Angela had been too slow? Or severely injured?
Dot felt the weight of T.J.’s stare, he probably wanted to know the rest. “No human was hurt, but we lost a few goats and most of the chickens.” She drew in a steadying breath and let it out through her mouth. “One of the guard dogs had to be put down.”
He gripped her hand. “Dot?”
She shook him off. “Vivian says the wildlife people are doing a necropsy on the bear, but they suspect it was drugged.” Dot lowered her phone and looked at him directly. “Also, the head of Vivian’s law firm left Euskadi and is going back to Boise. She thinks he knows where Hal Jones is and is going after him. Vivian is going after her colleague.”
“What the fuck?” T.J. repeated.
“Swear can,” Dot said. She needed some humor to pull her out of this dark place.
T.J. got the memo and grinned. “Bethany is not here; it doesn’t count.” His grin faded and he tapped the side of her head. “Don’t go there, Dot. We can’t be everywhere at once.”
“It’s still not right, T.J.”
His mouth turned into a thin line under his beard.
Not ready to hear whatever he might say, Dot reread the text. “A drugged bear?”
“Have you had problems with bears before?” T.J. asked.
“Never. I mean, they roam the perimeter of the ranch and test the dogs but never actually came onto the property. I think we had a mountain lion take a nap in a tree when I was a kid, but it stayed away from the sheep. Wolves and coyotes are our biggest threats.”
“Movement again,” he interrupted her.
This time, the camera had picked up actual activity on the farm. A door on the side of the house facing the camera’s direction opened. She and T.J. watched as a man carrying a rifle in a crossbody sling exited the house.
“I was right,” T.J. said in a singsong voice.
“I don’t want to hear it from you.”
The gunman walked to the old stables, paused by a set of doors, and did something. It was hard to tell from this distance and with his body blocking his actions.
“I think he was checking a lock,” T.J. said.
“You’d only check a lock if you were keeping something inside from escaping. Or keeping people out.”
“This might be a rescue mission if they have more girls imprisoned in there.”
“We’ve done it before.” Dot twisted around in her seat and then rolled down the window to listen. “I think someone is coming.”
T.J. drove the Suburban down a smaller path off to their right that was the perfect size for ATVs. It was just wide enough to fit the Suburban in without getting stuck between the rock and raised ground creating a tunnel of sorts. Once he had the tail end out of sight of the road, he killed the engine, and they waited.
Unable to see who was coming, Dot climbed over the seat—surprising T.J. in the process—and crawled into the back.
“Lift the hatch,” she ordered.
The latch disengaged, and the hatch began its ascent. Dot grabbed the internal handle to stop it from going farther and slid out through the gap. She pushed the hatch closed and, staying low to the ground, hurried to the mouth of the earthly tunnel in time to see two vehicles pass in a cloud of dust.
Dot gave it a few minutes to make sure there were no stragglers, then hurried back to the Suburban. She smacked the hatch.
“Back up, we’re clear,” she said as she hopped in and sat with her feet dangling over the end.
“It’s Follman and his bodyguard,” he told her as he maneuvered the beast of a vehicle back to their original spot.
“Who’s in the second?” Dot asked as she twisted around to assess their weapons options.
“Can’t tell for sure, but it might be Yonatan Hassin and a man with a fashionable manbun.”
“Why would Follman be up here with Hassin?” Dot pondered.
“I can think of only two reasons,” T.J. said, his voice heralding doom. “They have more girls that need inspecting.” He twisted around and met her gaze. “Or they have Caleb.”
Dot looked down at the Mossberg tactical shotgun she was doing a finger dance on. “Or it’s both.”
“It’s just the two of us against we don’t know how many,” he told her.
She smiled, a sad smile. “It was just me against an entire squad of killers.”
“You had backup. We were just a bit behind. That won’t be the case here.”
The idea hit her. “What do you want to bet Eriksson has eyes on Follman and they’re back on the main road?”
“It would make sense.” T.J. gave her a sly grin. “One way to find out.”
“I’ll go. You sit tight and keep an eye on what’s going on down there.” Dot holstered her 1911, slid in an earbud connected to his wireless comms, and scooted out of the Suburban’s backend with the Mossberg in hand.
“Be careful and watch your six,” T.J. warned.
She saluted him and hurried up the hillside. She took the narrow footpath that forked with one path going up to where they’d planted the camera and the other continuing on along the most level point of the hill. For the most part it kept her hidden if she stayed bent over.
Dot went about five hundred yards, reaching a dip in the path that exposed it to the roadside below. Making herself blend into the bland beige landscape best she could, she belly-crawled forward and checked the road.
