| |
THE RAIN HAMMERED DOWN in one huge rush like an invading force. Then it slowed suddenly. A minute later, it stopped. I was left in the cold, damp night with only the fog as cover. It would have to be enough.
I snuck through the trees and made my way to the edge of the compound’s erratic circle of buildings. I ran up to the closest one and pressed my back against it. It was wood. It smelled of wet boards and had the odor of animals inside. There was no sound.
I shimmied along the wall and up to a window. I crouched underneath it and didn’t risk peeking in. This window was near the back door. Nine times out of ten, that’s the one where someone is waiting inside with a shotgun. So I moved quietly to the second window and peeked in. The room was quiet and empty. It seemed to be some kind of bedroom. I saw no personal belongings—no pictures, no jewelry on the vanity, no sheets on the bed. No sign that anyone lived there. The closet door was wide open — no shoes on the floor. No clothes were hanging on the bar. Empty. It wasn’t clean, but it wasn’t dirty. It appeared to be just an extra building. The only distinct thing about this building was an animal smell, but I saw no dogs and no cats. No animals at all.
I went around to the back door and tried the knob—unlocked. I twisted it and opened the door in a quiet rush. I threw myself against the outer wall in case someone inside had a gun pointed in my direction. Nothing. I entered the building with the CZ 52 drawn.
I’d been raised to believe that if you pointed a gun, you’d better be ready to fire it. I wasn’t really ready because that piece-of-shit gun wasn’t worth firing. But in the dark, a gun barrel looked like a gun barrel, and I could at least scare someone with it. So it was better than nothing.
Luckily, there was no one in the building. It took only a few seconds to confirm that. The structure had only four rooms total. And they were all small. The only thing of use I found was a Maglite flashlight. It was a foot long, hefty, and could be dangerous as a club. So I grabbed it. It would be more useful than the Cold War relic that Sheldon had given me, especially in close-quarter combat.
I left the little house and headed to the main one, the next closest one. The fog began thinning, and I saw the outlines of vehicles and the other buildings. The main house was the only one with lights on. In order to get there, I’d have to travel through the center of the front yard. It was about a hundred feet or so. I couldn’t be sure—it was too dark, too foggy.
I slipped the CZ 52 into the waistband of my jeans. No reason to run with it. No reason to even have it out. The Maglite would work just fine.
I kept the light off, crouched down in a low position, and scrambled across the yard. Halfway to the main house, I could make out its red brick. From a distance, it had looked brand new, but now that I was closer to it, I saw that it wasn’t. It was an old, two-story house. The newest addition was a grayish wooden deck that had been slung around the front. A porch swing rocked and swayed in the breeze. The porch lights were on, but they were dimmed by the fog. There was one light on in the house. That was all. It was late at night, so the darkness inside wasn’t unexpected. I figured that the house’s occupants weren’t expecting visitors, least of all Tega. And I was sure that Tega meant for his visit to be a surprise.
I had run through two-thirds of the yard when I heard a strange sound. It sounded like the bell from a buoy off in the distance. A slow ding. Ding. Ding. The sound was ominous in the silence. I stopped and turned around to see what the source of the sound was. Then I realized that it had come from above me, from the flagpole. I gazed up into the darkness. My eyes followed the giant steel flagpole. It towered over me. At this range, it was even more massive. It was like standing underneath the Washington Monument and looking straight up. The top of it was hazy in the weather, but I could make out the flag. It was drenched, and it flapped like a wet bag in the breeze.
They left it up?
That didn’t sit well with me. Rednecks were not only known for being fanatical but also for being patriotic. Usually, they were more fanatical about their patriotic beliefs than anything else, at least enough to have the flag and to raise it every day and take it down every night. But they left it up in this nasty weather? That seemed unusual.
I pressed on. I scrambled for the porch and the front door. No lights came on — no signs of life. I peeked through a man-sized window — still nothing. Then I reached for the doorknob and turned it. It was unlocked. The door creaked open with a high-pitched, whiny squeal.
No one came rushing out. No guys with guns. None of Tega’s men. No one.
I clicked the Maglite on and swept it across the downstairs. The house had an open layout. The staircase was wide and impressive, curving up from the first floor of the house to the second. I spotlighted every inch in my line of sight with the Maglite. Nothing.
I walked upstairs. I wasn’t silent. I wasn’t loud — just a normal but careful pace. At the top of the stairs, I saw that there were three doors. All bedrooms. All wide open and empty. There was no one in the house unless they had hidden in the attic or the cupboards. I couldn’t understand it. Where was everyone?
I returned downstairs. The beam of the flashlight fell across the bottom steps as I descended and then swept across the floor. I moved it around the living room to get a better look. There was broken glass against the back wall. Furniture was splintered and knocked over. I’d been in too much of a hurry before to notice. I should’ve seen it. There were signs of a struggle all over the living room. A long Persian rug near the front door was stained with wet shoeprints — multiple prints.
Dumb, Widow, I thought.
I clicked the Bluetooth on. A computerized female voice asked, “Call whom?”
I said, “Sheldon Eckhart.”
The voice replied, “I don’t recognize that name.”
Sheldon probably hadn’t programmed her own name into her own phone. So I thought for a second, and then I said, “Call back.”
The voice said, “Calling.”
Sheldon had been the last person to call this phone so that it would dial her number back. The phone rang, and she answered.
I said, “We’re too late. The main house is a wreck. There are signs of a struggle. Broken furniture and glass.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Stay back. I’m headed to check the barn.”
I looked around the house quickly. There were no guns. I thought that unusual for a family of rednecks. I imagined that most had rifles perched across the top of the fireplace like trophies, but these people had none.
I shrugged. I clicked the Maglite off and held it in my left hand. I pulled the CZ 52 out of my waistband and held it in my right. I clicked the safety to fire and kept the muzzle facing downward. I had to be careful tramping through the house with a loaded, untested gun. Matlind had said that there were kids here.
I left the house and turned around the back corner. I saw the barn in the distance, over a hill, and around some trees. A gravel path led up to it. When I had driven in with Hank, it had looked closer to the house, but now I saw that it was farther away. I moved along the path, making very little noise. Halfway down the path, I saw other houses that looked more like family-style dwellings. They had backyards with swing sets and animal pens.
But still, I saw no signs of life.
I scrambled the rest of the way up the path and made it to the barn doors. They were shut. The barn was a two-story wooden building painted a red color that matched the brick on the house. Parked off to the side, near the trees, was another SUV. The lights were off, and the vehicle was empty.
I said, “Sheldon, get ready. We may have to move quickly.”
Her voice was crisp in the Bluetooth set. She asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”
I neared the barn doors. They were about twenty feet in front of me.
I said, “The motion sensor lights. They aren’t coming on.”
I waved my left hand in the air to try to get their attention. The sensors clicked and rattled but never came on — no bright lights. No sound. Just darkness. I switched on the Maglite and stared up at them.
“The bulbs have been shot out,” I said.
I saw bullet holes in the light casings. The motors whirred and sputtered and tried to switch the lights on, but nothing happened.
“There’s something else.”
She asked, “What?”
I shone the light across from me at the rear of the parked SUV.
“I’m staring at Grady’s truck.”
His Tahoe was parked right there in front of me. The light bar was as lifeless as the rest of the cold machine.
Sheldon said, “Oh, my God! Is he involved?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
She asked, “What’s in the barn?”
I stayed quiet. I moved in closer to the doors. I left the Maglite’s beam on and scanned the door with it. Then I reached out and rapped on the door: not a loud knock, just a couple of moderate taps. No one answered. I put the Maglite underneath my arm, gripped it tightly in my armpit, and held the CZ 52 with the hand of the same arm. With my free hand, I reached out and grabbed the barn’s door handle and jerked it open. The door swung out. Next, I reached over and jerked the other one outward. It swung out easily. The two massive doors were light on their hinges.
I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust to the lack of light inside. Past the darkness, I saw several figures swaying high above me. I stood fast, burying my feet into the wet, muddy soil, and I jammed the gun outward, two-handed, ready to fire. The Maglite dropped out of my armpit and sunk into the mud.
I shouted, “Freeze! Freeze! Freeze!” It was the way that I had learned all of my life. A powerful cop voice, like before, only this time, loudness counted.
None of the men in front of me responded. I couldn’t make out any details from this distance, but it looked as though they kept on swaying.
I shouted, “Stay put! Stay put!” I dropped quickly to one knee and scooped up the muddy Maglite. Then I lifted it and scanned the men inside. I counted more than a dozen. I couldn’t tell who they were. I couldn’t see enough through the fog and darkness to tell if they were even armed. But I figured they were obeying my directives because no one shot at me.
I got up from my knees and moved in fast. I stepped inside the wide entrance, took a few strides into the barn, and then froze. Grady was there. So were the rednecks—the ones I had met in Matlind’s room. It looked like all of the able-bodied men in town were there. The sheriff’s deputies. Lewis.
The air was filled with an awful stench. It was strong. I shone the light around the room and saw flasks, giant pots, and an expensive air filtration system. The rednecks had definitely been cooking meth here. Evidence of that was everywhere. It looked like I had caught them all red-handed. That was what it looked like, but that wasn’t what had actually happened. Not at all. Not by a longshot.
I slipped the gun back into my waistband. I reached up to my ear and cupped it to block out any outside noises. I said, “Sheldon?”
“Yup. Did you find the women?”
“Nope. I found the rednecks and Grady. And his deputies.”
Silence fell over the connection. Then she asked, “You found them? So Grady is involved?”
I said, “No, he’s dead. They’re all dead. They’re in the barn. Someone bound their hands and feet and hung them from the rafters.”
She paused and gasped. “They’re all dead? All of them?”
“Yes. Dead as anything. It was done recently.”
“I thought you said that Oskar Tega had just arrived. How could he have gotten here so fast?”
“He must’ve had help. Guys already here. He sent a guy into my jail cell to kill me. I thought he was a lone man—a hitman—but maybe Tega had a group here already. Maybe he had a kill team. They knew they were going to be coming here a week ago. I bet he had already sent guys here ahead, the day before the DEA raided his house in Mexico. The sheriff and the rednecks are casualties.”
She asked, “So the sheriff wasn’t in on it?”
“No. Neither were the rednecks. From the looks of this barn, they were busy with their own operation. Grady probably had stock in their meth business. I was wrong. Someone else was taking those girls. We’re looking at two separate operations. The rednecks dealt in meth, and Oskar Tega dealt in humans. That’s why Grady was reluctant to call in outsiders. He was protecting the rednecks. Everything must have gone sour between them.”
She was silent.
I looked at the dead faces. I said, “Tega is here, and now it’s time to clean up. That’s what he’s doing. His men killed these guys either to cover his true operation or to get rid of loose ends. I don’t know. Probably he wants the cops thinking he’s a drug dealer. That’s what has worked for him so far. He’ll be taking the girls international. We have to find them before that happens, or no one will ever see them again.”
Sheldon stayed quiet.
I walked out of the barn. I returned the CZ 52 into my waistband and lowered the Maglite. I stared off into the distance. “Where else could they be?” I asked.
From the main house, I hadn’t been able to see the lake, but now the fog was rolling out like a living creature, as if somewhere out there, a giant was inhaling it. It was now low to the ground. Some storm clouds still hovered in the air, but the thunder had quieted.
I stared across the lake, and my jaw dropped. I saw bright orange and red lights rising toward the sky. It was a fire. Across the lake, it roared and burned high above the buildings. Orange hues tornadoed up into the sky. Black smoke merged with the storm clouds. And then there was an explosion. The fire had reached a gas tank or a propane tank. The sound ripped across the horizon, and the blast burst upward in a horrifying ball of smoke and flame.
I looked on in horror as the fire consumed the Eckhart Medical Center. One single thing came to mind. One condition burst into my head—asthma.
Faye Matlind had severe asthma.