Page 47 of Mean Streak

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W ith head-spinning expedience, Emory was hustled outside and into the SUV. The seating arrangement was as it had been yesterday on the way from the gas station to the hospital. Knight was behind the wheel, Grange also in front, Jeff seated in the back with her.

Today, however, the mood inside the vehicle was considerably different.

When Jeff got in, he reached across the backseat and took her hand. Speaking in an undertone, he told her about his brief conversation with their business lawyer. “He’s retaining someone who handles criminal law cases.” He winced on the word criminal .

“Thank you for doing that.”

He said nothing more, but, feeling his censure, she turned her head away and stared out the window. Gorgeous scenery up here. She tried to empty her mind of everything except the landscape as they wound their way into the mountains.

On a clear day, the vistas would have been breathtaking. Today fog blanketed the valleys. The highest peaks were obscured by low-lying clouds. She recognized the turnoff she’d taken into the national forest last Saturday morning, but they drove past it without anyone remarking on it.

In fact no one spoke for the entirety of the trip. Then they rounded a bend. “Look familiar?” Knight asked over his shoulder as he applied the brakes and the SUV slowed down to go through the open gate. “That’s the Floyds’ pickup across the road. All the tires have gashes in them.”

She wasn’t asked what she knew about their wrecked truck; she didn’t volunteer anything.

In any case, she was feeling such a surge of emotion, it would have been difficult for her to speak.

The split-rail fence had been strung with crime scene tape.

The yard was crowded with official vehicles bearing the insignias of various agencies.

Personnel, bundled up in winter gear, were poking about, drinking from thermoses, talking among themselves.

Two emerged from the shed, one carrying a paint can, the other a spool of wire.

The door to the cabin was standing open.

Knight got out and handed her down from the backseat. “This the place?”

What would have been the point of lying? But she didn’t vocally confirm it either. She asked the question she’d been dreading most. “Is he in custody?”

“No.”

Her knees went weak with relief. Jeff stepped to her side and cupped her elbow for support. “This is a bad idea. She’s not up to it.”

“No, I’m fine, really.”

He seemed on the verge of arguing when his cell phone chirped. “It’s Alice,” he said after checking the caller. “How much do you want me to tell her about this?”

“Nothing yet.”

He gave a curt nod of agreement. “I’ll think of something.”

Raising the phone to his ear, he walked away from them. She was glad. She didn’t think she could have borne his being inside the cabin. Knight and Grange ushered her up to the door and motioned for her to precede them.

The charred logs in the fireplace had gone cold. On the hearth, the wood box had been emptied and upended. His books, once neatly arranged alphabetically, lay in one large heap on the floor as though ready for a bonfire.

In the center of the floor, the hidey-hole had been exposed and the foot locker removed.

It stood open and empty. The lamp remained on the end table, but the burlap shade had been removed, exposing the bare bulb.

Men in uniform were searching drawers and cabinets.

The mattress on the bed had been stripped and pulled aside.

Knight was saying, “When our people got up here, there was no sight of him and the cabin was mostly empty. Cleaned out. He didn’t leave behind a single scrap of paper. Nothing. But we’ll find him.”

She didn’t think so. He always did as he said. As promised, he had returned her unharmed. He’d rescued Lisa from her brothers’ abuse. He’d left the Floyds alive but not before getting more than the pound of flesh he felt was due for whatever grievance he bore them.

He had also told her that they would never see each other again. He would hold to that, too.

A deputy came in from outside. “Found these in the shed. Somebody asked what the bar was for.” He dropped the heavy articles onto the floor and stamped out.

Emory looked from the pair of gravity boots to the worrisome suspension rod overhead and gave a half laugh, half sob.

Knight mistook the sound for one of distress. “Does this bring back painful memories, Emory?” He looked up at the bar in the ceiling. “Was he into kinky stuff? Did he hurt you?”

“How many times must I tell you? No.”

He studied her for a moment, then summoned over a deputy. “Keep the husband distracted,” he said. “In fact, why don’t all y’all take a ten-minute break outside?”

The room emptied except for her and the two detectives. Knight said, “Let’s sit.” He sat down with her on the leather sofa.

Grange pulled up one of the dining chairs, and as he sat he motioned toward the foot locker. “Reeks of gun oil.”

They looked at her. She kept her expression neutral. When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to reveal anything voluntarily, Knight asked, “How many firearms did he have?”

“I never counted them.”

“What kind were they?”

“I wouldn’t know one from the other.”

“Handguns? Rifles?”

“Some of both.”

The men consulted each other with a glance, then Knight said, “You say he didn’t hurt you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Okay, but based on what he did to the Floyd brothers, it’s clear that this man is capable of violence.

He also motivated you, if not coerced you, to commit a felony.

Now, Emory, looking at it strictly from a law enforcement standpoint, don’t you think it’s feasible that he attacked you on that trail? ”

“For what purpose?”

Grange said, “Maybe just for the hell of it.”

She looked toward the kitchen area where the drawers had been opened and rifled.

She thought of how tidy he’d kept it and how meticulously he’d performed every task, such as repairing a toaster.

“Whimsy? No, Sergeant Grange. He would never do something just for the hell of it. Besides, I’ve told you that he treated me kindly. ”

“I wouldn’t call turning you into a thief a kindness,” Knight said.

“But just for the sake of argument, let’s say that break-in was for a good cause.

Let’s say it was necessary in order for you to help a girl in need of medical treatment.

Let’s also say that those Floyd boys deserved the whipping they got.

Going by their rap sheets, that’s not a stretch. ”

“Then why are we here and having this conversation?”

“Because I still believe you were a hostage of sorts, not a willing participant in that burglary. Buddy and me don’t want to see you punished for something you were forced to do under duress.”

He leaned toward her, getting to the crux of his argument. “Even if you can’t remember it, it’s reasonable, isn’t it, that this guy clouted you over the head and hauled you off that trail? Any way you look at it, that’s assault and battery and kidnapping.”

“I don’t believe he’s guilty of those crimes.”

“If he’s not guilty of something, why didn’t he bring you into town and make himself known?”

She opened her mouth but had no words with which to respond.

However, as though she had spoken, Knight said, “Exactly. Staying under the radar was worth twenty-five grand to him. Which leads us to believe that he’s a fugitive. You need to help us catch him.”

“Why do you need me? You’ve searched every inch of this cabin.”

“Which doesn’t belong to him. It’s a rental.”

“Oh.”

“You sound surprised.”

She glanced toward the denuded bookshelves. “He treated it as an owner would. But if he’s a renter, then surely his name is on the lease.”

“Rent’s paid by a lawyer in Seattle.”

“Seattle?”

“On behalf of an LLC, and the general partner of the LLC is a corporation. We’re trying to cut through all the red tape necessary to get to a human being behind the corporation, but in the meantime, our suspect is getting away.”

Grange joined in. “The Floyd brothers claimed not to remember what he looks like. Their mother, too. The description Lisa gave the deputy could’ve been of me or Beyoncé.

We find it real hard to believe that their powers of recall are that imprecise.

And we think you remember him in a lot more detail than you gave us. ”

Knight said, “That could be construed as obstruction of justice.”

“How could you prove what I do and do not remember about him?” she challenged. “I had a concussion and a CT scan that shows it.”

In frustration, Knight switched tactics. Sighing as though in resignation, he said, “We’re getting nowhere fast. I can hear your husband arguing with the deputies outside, and I sympathize with his impatience. He’s had it up to here with us.

“And, pardon me for saying so, Emory, but you’re looking peaked. Maybe you shouldn’t have checked out of the hospital so soon. We should’ve thought twice before hauling you up here.

“But since we made the trip, tell us one thing. Just one thing that’ll help us. Then we’ll go back to Drakeland, see that you’re put up someplace nice and made comfortable so you can rest.”

She waited out the inanities, then said, “Please stop talking to me as though I’m an imbecile.”

“Last thing I think is that you’re an imbecile.”

“I’m not infirm either. I am, however, tired of your hounding me to give you information that I don’t have.”

“I think you do.”

“Then you think wrong.”

Grange said, “We could charge you with aiding and abetting a criminal.”

“You don’t know that he’s a criminal.”

“We’ve got video of him committing a burglary.”

“No you don’t. You’ve got video of me .”

“Did he threaten you and the Floyds not to reveal his identity?”

“I don’t know his identity.”

“Every minute you sit here and refuse to cooperate—”

“I’m not refusing.”

“—he’s getting farther away.”

“Tell us his name.”

“I don’t know it.”

“Emory—”

“I don’t know his name!”

***

“Hayes Bannock.”

“What about him?” Jack asked.