Thursday October 29th
Chico had let the fire die and was sitting in the dark. Through the sliding glass doors he saw Rowan pause briefly at the end of the deck then continue his fourth and final circuit of the house. Rowan held his gun casually but he patrolled with a do it and get it over with attitude. The woods at night were no place for a vivid imagination.
He finished his coffee and took the mug to the kitchen. The front door slammed shut and Rowan strode over to the deck entrance and closed the blinds again.
“Were these open for a reason?” he said.
“Just making sure you weren’t mugged by a raccoon.”
“Well, whatever is rustling around out there is going to be Jenner’s problem for the next few hours. I’ll tell him to come down.”
He took off his jacket and ascended to the second floor where he met Jenner on the landing.
“I thought you’d be asleep.”
“A little tough with Tad wheezing and moaning. You’ll soon see what I mean.”
“Could he have a punctured lung?”
Jenner tapped his fingers on the stair rail.
“We’ll see how he is in the morning. Speaking of which, I want to get an early jump on our two rabbits. I disabled Fenn’s car in case they make it to the road, though we should be able to hunt them down before then.”
“When we found Tad they were heading deeper into the forest. My guess is they’ll hunker down somewhere until it gets light. It would be good to resolve that issue before the boss gets here.”
Jenner picked up the receiver on the hall phone and dialed a number. He returned it to the cradle almost immediately. “That was my number. Apparently I’m busy. Just like everybody else.”
“Screwy country phones. If we were meant to live in trees we wouldn’t have invented chainsaws and asphalt.” Rowan peered into a room and finding it suitable made for the bed.
Jenner started down the stairs. “First light is in about five hours. Be ready to go when I call you.”
“I’d better be getting overtime for this shit,” Rowan said, and closed the door.
Chico was also heading to bed.
“Crash out anywhere you like,” Jenner told him. “Just keep an eye on Tad, will you.”
Chico nodded. His throat was no longer red but it was still sore.
Jenner made a coffee and carried it to the security room. The camera monitors were the same as ever. No movement on either side of the gate. He took the Remington from the gun locker and reloaded it with the same plastic-coated shells he’d removed a few hours before. There was a picture of geese on the shell box. High-density long-range birdshot.
Short-range peopleshot.
In the living room he stirred the fireplace embers and tossed on a log. A red glow, a wisp of smoke, then ignition. He settled into an armchair and pulled the Polaroids of Marjorie Dynes-Harrowport from his pocket. She would have been on this very rug facing him. And could be. With these pictures in his possession such things were possible.
They were worth preserving so he went back to the kitchen and searched the drawers until he found a box of small freezer bags. Harrowport probably used them for keeping berries or filets of any fish he had caught. They were a good size for protecting the snapshots. Placing them back-to-back for easy viewing, he slipped the bag into the inside breast pocket of his suit. First the bag of cash. Now the pictures. This gig was improving all the time.
He stopped by the full-length mirror in the foyer. His suit was of good quality but the pants and shirt needed pressing. He’d left his tie upstairs. Maybe when he went to get it, he’d borrow Harrowport’s shaving gear. And perhaps some of Harrowport’s clean clothes as well. Why not? If he was going to have the guy’s wife he may as well share his threads, too.
The caffeine started to kick in and the upside was the same as the downside—it would keep him awake. Unless he found something to do this was going to be a long night. He picked up the Remington and went outside. It had rained just enough to make everything wet yet leave no puddles. Light reflecting off the rising mist created a grey dome over the house and down to the perimeter of the trees. Jenner walked toward the garage. He’d not been there since depositing his hostage, and wanted to see how she’d gotten free.
The chair was by the workbench, the loose arm at an angle. The snips and cut wires were on the floor. From what he remembered, she had no shoes. After a few hours of trekking through the backcountry she’d be getting Fenn to carry her. Easy prey. Too bad they hadn’t brought the dogs.
== == ==
Jack Klaasen fit right in with the members of the Task Force. They’d strapped him into a Kevlar vest and given him a helmet and an earpiece. He couldn’t be part of the assault, of course, but he could listen in and would be allowed on the grounds as soon as it was deemed safe. If his daughter wasn’t immediately located, an armed officer would escort him wherever he wanted to search.
Lareault checked his watch. Five-forty. In twenty minutes nautical twilight would signify the end of night. A half hour after that, civil twilight would make everything easily visible. He beckoned the ETF team leader into the Special-Ops trailer.
“The wait is almost over, Captain. How are you situated?”
“Delta team was swapped out twice through the night. The original team is now back on post. Of the four males known to be in the building, we believe one is injured. So far, we have not located the female hostage.”
“Let’s assume she’s in the forest with Fenn. We’re committed to the incursion so what’s your plan of attack?”
“We have snipers covering front and rear, and they’ll maintain position until we black out the security cameras and breach the gate. The team will move quickly down the driveway and gain entrance to the house. Whatever goes down after that will determine our response.”
“And you’ll keep in mind that one of the four males is our guy, won’t you?”
The captain grinned. “My guys know to just wing him.”
Lareault grinned back. “Whoever wings him explains it to his wife.”
“Aye, sir. I’ll pass that along.”