Adam descended the stairs of his Gulfstream, greeted Roland, and they climbed into a waiting limousine. The hills of Pennsylvania slipped by as Adam stared moodily out the window.
The merger was sealed, the takeover completed. He had been distracted during a key meeting and nearly lost one, but he rallied and clinched them both. Even more satisfying than the deals themselves were the looks in the eyes of the men who asked about his bewitching young wife, as hungry for information as teenaged girls. All these captains of industry, Adam thought, with their safe, domesticated women, all living vicariously through me.
“I don’t get this, Roland,” he said.
Roland looked up. He had been reading his messages, the news, the sports columns, doing everything he could to distract himself from the fact that he was once again on his way to the same fucking animal place, on the same fucking mission: to find Adam’s runaway wife. The wife who had become the thorn in his side, Lyllis’s line in the sand. “What,” said Roland.
“It doesn’t make sense. I treated her like gold. I treat women like shit and they don’t go anywhere.”
“Then maybe you had it coming.”
Adam frowned. “Before we were married I had people investigate her parents. You know, the ones in Pennsylvania who adopted her. The ones who were killed in the car crash. I didn’t go any further, but I have people digging up her foster care records now.”
“Juvenile records are sealed,” said Roland.
“Oh, please,” said Adam. “The cops have stepped up their game. I had the tech guys send Darcy the list of animal people from that phone you grabbed, and she’s offering them incentives. She said they’re pretty goddamned hostile. But all it takes is one.” He paused. “You almost had her. You’ll get her the next time.”
Roland exhaled. According to the phone in his pocket, the guy in the Smokey the Bear hat had intercepted her in Indiana and taken her away in cuffs. How she escaped was a mystery, but it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with Adam. ”The last time I got her, she was kicking and screaming,” he said. “Why do you think she’s going to like it any better this time?”
“What she’ll like better is to be alone with me without all this pressure. I just need to talk to her face to face. You know how good we are together!”
“Honestly? I don’t. I’m telling you, she doesn’t belong in your world.”
“Then I’ll adjust my world. You’ll see. Have you ever seen Swan Lake?”
Roland gave him a weary look. “No, Adam, I never seen Swan Lake. But I know a couple of dancers, and you know what they told me about Swan Lake?”
“What?”
“The crazy-ass prince and the magic swan bitch both die in the end.”
The car coasted to a stop. The driver opened the door. “That’s because he was just a prince,” said Adam, and slid out.
• • •
Celia and Elias stood by the office window, watching the limousine roll down their dirt driveway. “I still don’t see why he had to come in person,” said Celia.
“Because he wants to intimidate us,” said Elias. “So don’t let him.”
“Where’s Wizzie?”
“In her room. I told her if I even see her shadow, no animal care for a week.”
After a knock on the screen door Adam appeared, Roland behind him. Adam extended his hand, and Elias shook it without returning his smile. Celia stood to the side, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Briefly she met Roland’s unblinking stare, then quickly looked away.
“Beautiful land around here,” said Adam.
“Yup,” said Elias.
“I’ll get right to the point,” said Adam. “Luna’s in trouble. Whatever difficulties we may have had were temporary. All I want to do is help her, but I don’t know where she is.”
“We don’t, either,” said Elias.
“I want both of you to know something,” said Adam. “I love her very much. I laid the world at her feet.”
Celia murmured something, her eyes on the floor. “Excuse me?” said Adam.
Celia felt her stomach churn. “I said, she doesn’t want the world,” said Celia, forcing her voice into something above a whisper. “And she doesn’t want you, either.”
Adam gazed at her. “You used to rent this land, didn’t you?” he asked.
“We did,” said Elias, trying to draw Adam’s attention away from his daughter. “But thanks to your wife, now we own it. And nobody can take it away from us.”
“That’s true,” said Adam, pulling a topographical map from his inner pocket. “But…may I?” He unfolded it and laid it on the desk. “Here you are,” he said, pointing. “Here, north of you, is a 500-acre parcel. Over here are three houses. To the west is a 150-acre parcel, and here are twelve more houses. I’m thinking I might buy all of it. Some of the owners might not want to sell, but they’d probably change their minds if I offered them six or eight times what their properties are worth. Then I’d have a great big piece of contiguous land for Gladstone Oil and Gas, which I own. As you know, fracking is big around here.”
Elias recovered first. “You can’t build in there,” he said, pointing. “Those are wetlands, and that’s a protected wildlife area!”
Adam regarded him with a kindly expression. “Mr. Jenkins,” he said. “Do you honestly think that under this administration, environmental regulations are even worth the paper they’re printed on? It’s a free-for-all. And if you’ve got local opposition?” He placed a finger on the map. “There’s your wildlife area, and there’s your little buffer zone. I can put the drill pad right next to it. You’ll be able to see the lights from your driveway.”
The room was still.
“Maybe you don’t know where she is,” said Adam. “But I’ll bet you could find out in, say, two days. If you do, I’ll donate $5 million to your wildlife center. You could save a lot of animals with that. Maybe buy some additional land so you can to protect yourselves a little more. If you don’t?” He shrugged and began to fold the map.
Celia felt an unexpected surge of fury. She straightened her back and raised her chin. “Get out,” she said.
Adam tucked the map into his pocket. “All I want to do is talk to my wife,” he said, and Roland pulled the screen door shut behind them.
The limousine rolled back down the driveway. “I think that went fairly well,” said Adam. “But what the hell is wrong with these animal people?”
Roland squinted at a patch of blue. Adam followed his gaze and saw a young girl sitting on a rock, her unruly red hair in a braid, her bare legs scraped and dirty below her shorts. As the car approached she scowled, and with a violent motion she lifted one arm and raised her middle finger.
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Roland, and looked away.
• • •
“They’re coming at four o’clock!” said Trish, as everyone scrambled to their feet.
“Shit!” said Warren. “I keep underestimating him!”
“We’ve got eight minutes,” said Luna.
“What are we going to do with eight minutes?” demanded Ned.
Warren turned to Trish and Angelica. “Get her and the bird into the tunnel,” he said.
“The tunnel!” said Angelica. “How do you know about the tunnel?”
Warren scowled.
“All right! Fine!”
Luna, Trish, and Angelica hastened from the room. Warren turned to Ned. “If they’re already here, we can’t use the truck. Listen — you’re gonna have to stay here and slow ‘em down.”
“But how?”
“Figure it out!”
He started to leave, then turned back. “There’s a tunnel that starts a hundred feet behind the Bunker and ends near the road. If there’s any way you can get a vehicle out of here — go right out of the driveway, right again on Pine Lane. The tunnel comes out halfway down.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Do your best, man,” he said, and disappeared.
Ned glanced out the window to where Angelica hurried toward the woods, Trish and Luna behind her carrying Mars’s crate. He spotted something glinting on the floor, so he crossed the room and bent down. It was Luna’s necklace.
“Oh, no,” he breathed, staring at the broken clasp. He looked past the front door to the parking area, where the Ram, Trish’s Honda, and Angelica’s Jeep all waited side by side. It was eerily quiet. In the distance, he could see a flashing red light. He slipped Luna’s necklace into his pocket.
The driveway was narrow, flanked by cedars and dense underbrush. Two squad cars made their way briskly toward the house, stopping just shy of where the driveway fanned into the parking area. The first squad car braked, backed up, and stopped sideways, blocking the parked cars. The second one pulled up behind it.
Gunderman, a police sergeant, and an officer emerged from the first car and walked toward the house. Two more officers climbed from the second car and headed toward the Bunker. The red light continued to flash at the end of the driveway.
Five of them here, thought Ned, an unknown number out on the road. There was no way to get the Ram out of the driveway. Even if Luna managed to make it to the road, she could hardly hitch a ride accompanied by a giant eagle crate. His gamer’s mind searched for possibilities, and came up empty. There was a heavy knock on the door. “Rock Ridge Police Department!” came a voice. “Open up!”
“Coming,” called Ned, moving slowly. He swung the door open, and Gunderman and the police officers eyed him steadily.
“Where are they?” asked Gunderman.
Ned was silent. A police officer reached for his handcuffs. “Wait!” said Ned, raising his hands. “I want immunity!”
“What do I get?” asked Gunderman.
Ned took a deep breath. “They’re still on the property, but they’ve split up,” he said. “I’m reaching into my pocket, okay?” They nodded, and he pulled out Luna’s necklace. He opened the bead, and showed them the tracking device.
“It’s how the guy helping her knows where she is,” said Ned. “The clasp is broken, so they probably don’t know she dropped it. She can’t get far without him, and it will lead him straight to me.”
• • •
Mars waved his wings in protest only briefly before settling down, hopping into the crate, and settling onto his perch. Luna took one side, Trish the other, and they followed Angelica through the woods to an old stone shed built into the side of a hill. “It came with the house,” panted Trish. “I don’t know what they used it for.”
“We forgot about it,” said Angelica, struggling to open the rusted iron door. “Give me some room, here.” Gripping the door’s heavy handle, she pulled it with all her weight. The door opened with a screech.
The room was circular, windowless, and cluttered with old metal furniture and gardening equipment. Luna and Trish lowered the crate to the floor. “We haven’t been back here in years,” said Angelica, pulling a stack of chairs aside and revealing a small inner door. Trish yanked it open. There was nothing but darkness.
“Do you think it’s caved in?” asked Angelica. She pulled out her phone and flipped on the flashlight. The silent tunnel was bedecked with cobwebs.
“Assuming we can get through it,” said Trish, “what are we going to do once we get to the end?”
“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” said Luna.
“Follow me,” said Angelica.
• • •
Warren stopped next to a hickory tree and caught his breath. He had jogged through Trish and Angelica’s densely wooded property, hidden by the forest as he scanned Route 72 and Pine Lane for squad cars. There was a cruiser parked on 72, blocking the bottom of the driveway as two officers patrolled on foot. A Fish and Wildlife SUV glided down Pine Lane, but then it disappeared.
He approached a stream, scooped up a handful of mud, and wiped it over his face and arms. He kept moving until he spotted a pile of boulders leaning haphazardly together. The landform was unremarkable, except to the naturalist or outdoorsman who might suspect the boulders concealed a cave. When Warren happened upon it six years earlier he had entered it, found the tunnel, discovered the shed, and filed it away for future need. The need had arisen the previous evening, hence their flight into Wisconsin.
He pulled out his tracking device and his face fell. “The hell is she doing?” he muttered, as the blinking red dot placed her at least 30 yards from the tunnel. Pocketing the device he jogged through the woods, all senses on alert. He passed a section of bear fencing, and saw Ned standing alone.
Ned turned, and when Warren saw his expression he stopped in his tracks. In a split second, Gunderman and three police officers appeared from behind the trees. Warren spun and sprinted away, but four steps later the ground hurled him upward, rustling and blurring and surrounding him with patterns of dark and light. He fell, bounced, and as the patterns swam into focus he realized he was hanging from Trish and Angelica’s bear net. He raised a hand to cover his face.
“You want to finish this up?” shouted Ned. “There’s no way he can get out of there, so come on and I’ll show you where she’s hiding!”
I’m going to kill that guy, thought Warren.
“All right,” said Gunderman.
“Stay with the suspect,” said Sergeant Nielsen to one of the men.
Gunderman glanced at Warren. “The suspect is secured, Sergeant,” he said. “We’re going to need all your men. I’ll take responsibility.”
The three officers hesitated, and a snuffling sigh emanated from the far side of the double fence. Just visible over the crest of a hill were the head and shoulders of a very large black bear.
“Right!” said one of the cops, and they all hurried toward the house.
Warren watched them go. He reached into a pocket, flipped open his trusty Border Guard, and began to saw.
• • •
The fourth officer was waiting by the Bunker. “She and the bird are in the basement,” said Ned as he, Gunderman, and the three officers reached the house. He pointed at the guest house. “There’s another guy in there. ”
“Why are you cooperating now?” asked Gunderman.
“I didn’t think it would go this far,” said Ned. “I just want to get out of here.”
The sergeant and one of the men peeled off toward the guest house. Ned opened the front door and led Gunderman and two officers to the kitchen. “I’m not going down there,” said Ned, gesturing to a red door. “There’s a bear. It’s in a cage, but it’s still a bear.”
Gunderman and the two cops stared at him suspiciously. Ned crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, feeling the throb of his heart, his only plan to stall them as long as possible. “I’ll go down with you,” said one of the officers to Gunderman. “You go first.”
“Keep an eye on him,” said Gunderman to the second officer, nodding toward Ned, as he led the first officer down the stairs. Ned slumped as the uniformed man stood in the basement doorway, his hand resting on his gun. On his belt hung a radio, a baton, a Taser, a flashlight, a set of keys, and a pair of handcuffs.
Ned felt a surge of adrenaline. He pictured the three policemen herding Warren toward the net. He stared at the handcuffs, soon to be clasped around Luna’s slender wrists. Last night she had curled against him, trembling and gasping for air.
Right out of the driveway, said Warren. Right again on Pine Lane.
Ned launched himself forward and caught the waiting officer off guard. As the man reached for the railing, Ned slammed the door shut and slid the deadbolt home. He stopped, horrified at what he’d done, then he rushed from the room.
Ned burst through the front door, ran to the Ram, and climbed into the driver seat. As he turned the ignition, he saw the two officers in the doorway of the guest house. The sergeant looked up and spotted him.
You’re just not a team player, Neddo, said a voice in his head.
“Yes, I am,” he muttered aloud, slamming it into gear. “I just hadn’t found the right team.”
The big blue truck roared forward. It caught the first police car dead on, spun it in a half-circle, crunched it into the second one, and shoved them both into the woods. Ned stomped on the gas, aiming for the cruiser blocking the end of the driveway. The two officers patrolling on foot looked up in astonishment, then threw themselves into the ditch as the Ram burst onto the paved road and crashed into the cruiser. Ned yanked the wheel to the right and a shot rang out. Glass shattered and tires screamed as he floored it down Route 72.
In a hundred yards was the small sign for Pine Lane. He skidded around another turn and there was Trish, waving frantically. Behind her were Luna and Angelica, holding Mars’s crate between them. Ned braked, Trish opened the back door, and they slid the crate into the truck.
“Will you guys be all right?” cried Luna, as she yanked the passenger door open and jumped in.
“Go! Go!” barked Trish, waving them on like an air-traffic controller.
“Easy!” gasped Luna, as the truck lurched forward. “This is too much stress for him!”
“For him?” shouted Ned.
“Look!” she said, pointing ahead to where Warren was running out of the woods. “Don’t stop, just slow down!”
She swung the door open, climbed into the back, and Warren lunged into passenger seat as the Ram passed him. He pulled the door shut, then turned to Ned.
“Good man!” he boomed, and clapped him on the back.