It’s getting warmer. Air tastes hot, dry. Throat stings.
There’s laughing inside my head. Not my maker laughing. Her. The bitch is trash talkin’ me—“Go straight to hell. Don’t pass Go. Don’t collect squat. Go right to the biggest, meanest whore of all. Now let’s see how you like being tortured.” I laugh that same sadistic laugh. What the hell?
Another explosion. It’s getting closer. I jump into a crouch, look all around. Remember where I am. The damn forest’s on fire. This isn’t Hell. Gotta get outta here. Get to the damn lake. Get away from these exploding trees. And when I catch up with that stupid Tess—she’s dead meat. And so are those girls.
Amy
Jake’s arm’s draped over my shoulder—he gets heavier with every step. Groans when he breathes. Says his arm is mostly numb—only a dull pain—his lungs hurt more. He’s lightheaded.
Smoke’s getting thicker. I’m coughing as bad as him. Eyes sting. Ask him about his granddaughter. Catches his breath, almost between every word. “Lots of ... spunk. Sweet. Cute ... as a ... button. Should’ve .... ” He leans, points to the ground. We sit so he can rest.
I say, “Did people try to find her?”
He nods. “Lots of people. I keep looking.”
“How long?”
“Twelve years. I’m still looking for her.”
“Wish people came for me.”
He sits up straight. Takes my hand. “Amy ... they are ... I’m sure.”
We don’t talk for a while. His chest rattles when he takes a breath—like Bryce when he got really sick … was burning up with fever. I fed him broth Mercedes made from birds she killed. I put cold rags on his forehead for days. Jake motions for us to get up and walk some more.
At the end of the firebreak there’s a heap of charred, broken-up boards. Jake says, “It’s all that’s left of where you used to live.” He looks at me. “Were you ... here ... when it happened?”
“No.”
“You ran away before?”
“Didn’t run. Tess took me.”
“Where’s she now?”
“Dunno … I got away.”
“Good.”
I point at where our shack used to be. “It’s not real anymore.”
We walk on. A loud roar comes from the lake—gets louder. Trees shake like there’s a big wind. Cover my ears. I wrap my arms around Jake.
He hugs me close. “More … helicopters,” he says, barely loud enough for me to hear.
When the noise isn’t so loud, Jake tells me the helicopter is scooping water out of the lake to dump on the fire. He points to the gravel road that leads to his cabin. We walk slowly, stopping a couple of times … once at the stump by the little trail down to the cove. The stump’s too small for both of us, so I let him sit—catch his breath.
I rub the top of his head. Smooth. Wet from sweat. Hot from the sun … the fire. From fever? I say, “Wait. Be right back.” Run down the trail to the cove, dip the bottom of my shirt in cool water. Come back and wipe his face, the top of his almost hairless head.
We don’t stop again until we reach the cabin. When we go inside he points down a hall … nods at the last doorway. Books cover shelves that reach from floor to ceiling on two of the walls. He shuffles behind a desk, reaches between some of the books. Two bookshelves swing out toward us like thick, heavy doors.
Footsteps out in the hallway, hurrying. We turn. Before I can blink … Mercedes is standing in the doorway. Behind her, Tess with a rifle. The barrel is pushed up under Mercedes’ chin.
She nods at Jake. “Mr. Chandler, I have some unfinished business I’d like to wrap up … if you don’t mind.”
Jake shoves me toward the opening in the wall—shields me from Tess.
Tess yells, “Everyone where I can see them. And put your hands up.”
I step out so she can see me. Jake raises both hands in the air; his bad arm comes up slowly. He yelps and tumbles into a chair ... his face twists up in pain. He slumps over ... his arms stretched out across the desk ... head buried in a stack of papers. He groans.
I bend over him ... put my hand on his forehead … look back at Tess. “We have to get him in there. He’s sick ... bleeding ... needs medicine.”
She glares at Jake. “It’s what I need right now that matters.”
Mercedes. “What good’s he going to be to you dead?”
Tess motions for us to go through the secret opening, the rifle barrel still shoved up under Mercedes’ chin. I help Jake up from the chair ... he leans on me ... we stumble into the secret hiding place. Once all four of us are through the opening, Jake touches the wall. The big bookshelf doors slam shut, lights come on like magic. A humming sound starts up. Can’t tell where it’s coming from. Cool air gives me goose bumps.
Deputy Sheriff Baker
I hang up the receiver on my desk phone and look at Grimes. “A couple of chopper pilots are reporting civilians in the fire’s path. One’s trying to get down off the ridge about halfway between Eric Lamb’s place and Chandler’s cabin. The fire’s moving in on him fast. Two others appear to be headed toward the lake.”
“Okay, Boss. I’ll head up in the Blazer and intercept the two by the lake. They’re probably headed out to the highway. We’ll have to send a chopper for the other one. He’s on borrowed time.”
“I’m coming with. We’ll radio for the chopper on the way.” I grab my hat and we head for the door.
Half way up the mountain, we get our first kick in the teeth—choppers are grounded due to wind turbulence. The civilian up on the ridge is on his own for now, and the fire’s closing in fast. Just hope the two headed for the lake make it into the water before the fire gets them.
Grimes looks at me. “Boss, there’s gotta be something we can do. The poor bastard doesn’t have a chance without help.”
“And what do you suggest—getting ourselves barbequed along with him?”
“No. Just saying ....”
There’s not another word between us the rest of the way to Chandler’s place. I’m busting my brain to figure out how to help—can practically smell Grimes’s brain overheating, as well.
When we pull into Chandler’s drive, his Jeep is parked where it’s been since he went off the grid. That means he’s likely still in the area, unless someone helped him get away. Grimes points to the kitchen French doors. One side is standing wide open. We draw our weapons as we step out of the Blazer.
I point to the cabin. “This takes priority.”
Grimes covers. I go in first, shouting, “Sheriff’s Department. Get down!”
We alternate covering for each other as we move through the place, clearing each room. In the library, I point to some papers smeared with fresh blood. “What do you make of this?”
Grimes shrugs. “Chandler’s struck again?”
“Yeah, but where’s the body?”
“I’ll check the perimeter. You give this place a second going over.”
Outside, I scan the ground for footprints and find two sets—the first set doesn’t surprise me. Two people almost in lockstep, headed toward the cabin. One small, the other clearly an adult male—neither with a normal gait. The smaller one’s leaning away from the other. Prints are leading to the cabin. The other set—two people also. About equal weight—possibly females. I don’t find any exit tracks for either party.
Something’s not right. We cleared every room. Checked the closets, under the beds. I backtrack both sets of prints. The man and his companion came down the gravel road from the neighbor’s burned-out shack. The others came from the woods along the side of the lake. Their trail leads me to a horse tied to a tree about a hundred yards from Chandler’s cabin.
After untying the horse, I lead it back to Chandler’s place where Grimes is waiting on the deck.
He laughs. “Tell me that’s not the source of the blood.”
“No, it’s your ride—might come in handy if we wind up rescuing our subject up on the ridge. I’ll drive the Blazer. There’s a firebreak behind that burned-out shack across the lake. Let’s meet there and proceed along the base of the ridge. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
He steps down off the deck and takes the reins. “Where’d you find her?”
I point toward the woods. “A set of tracks coming from over there.”
He climbs up on the mare. “Anything else interesting?”
“Yeah, there’s another set coming from the road. But, no tracks leaving the cabin.”
“That’s weird.”
“Tell me about it.”
Amy
Tess pushes Mercedes and me into a corner. Jake flops into a chair by a table near us. She waves the rifle around—tells us to keep quiet. She killed Bryce and some bum he hired to off her. She shot a lawyer too. And she wounded Jake.
Mercedes says, “She and Bryce tied up RJ and left him to die up on the ridge.”
“No!” I scream. I hold back tears.
Mercedes hugs me.
Tess orders. “Quiet, everyone.”
One of the walls lights up. Tess mutters something about ‘closed circuit TV.’ Bright pictures of rooms ... Jake’s car ... his dock ... the lake ... other places outdoors. Two cops ... walking around. I glance at Tess. She’s watching one go outside. Tess tracks him from one picture to the next.
We watch the men in the pictures for a long time. One gets in a car and drives away. The other gets on the mare and heads into the woods along the lake.
Tess looks down at Jake. “Now for our unfinished business.”
He groans.
She points the rifle at Mercedes. “Meet your granddaughter.”
Jake sits up straight. “Celine?”
I glance at Mercedes.
No way she’s the little girl in the picture ... her hair’s not black ... like Mercedes ... like Tess.
Tess laughs. “Not Celine—Mercedes. My daughter, your granddaughter.”
“What kind of game are you playing?”
“That’s no way to greet your own flesh and blood.”
“Are you saying—you seduced Jesse and she’s his?”
“No. I’m your daughter.” She glances at Mercedes. “And I’m not going to be denied anymore.”
Jake breathes like he’s sucking air. “
Daughter
? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Mom said you wouldn’t remember.”
He coughs a weak cough. “Who? Who’s your mother?”
Her face tightens. “What? Were there so many you couldn’t keep track?”
“I’m sorry … uh … if I had known ….” He wheezes.
“Doesn’t matter now. Water under the bridge. Besides, she died a while back—heartbroken. She never got over you—always loved you.”
“I don’t have the slightest idea ….”
“Stop. You’re just digging a deeper hole for yourself. She deserved a hell of a lot better than you.”
“So what do you want from me?”
She raises her chin. “I want what’s due us ... our share.”
He sputters. “Your share …?”
“Our inheritance.”
He gasps for air. “Guess I got it wrong.”
“How’s that?”
“My will gives each of my two grandchildren half of everything.”
Tess lowers the rifle. “It what?”
“Yes ....” He nods at Mercedes. “I hired a detective to follow the two of you. Thought you were having an affair. When he reported you were pregnant and things had cooled off between you, I had the detective keep tabs on you. Just in case you made trouble. I had the baby figured for Jesse’s.”
“No affair—not with me, at least. He was happy as hell to have a sister—said he couldn’t wait to break the news to you. Almost got up the nerve to tell you, but I got pregnant—one of your brokers. He dumped me as soon as I said I wanted to keep the baby. Once I had Mercedes, I begged Jesse to get you to accept us as family. He laughed. Said his wife was pregnant and no bastard was going to horn in on their child’s inheritance. Next thing I know, I’m blackballed, out of a job.”
He winces. “After Ellen died, I woke up to what an asshole I’d been. I changed my will to include your daughter. Now, if you don’t let me take care of the hole you left in my arm, you’ll have to prove your case in court. Somehow, I don’t think you want to go that route.”
“I’ve got all the proof I need right here.” She reaches under her shirt ... pulls a paper out of her bra.
“Let’s patch me up then I’ll check out your ‘proof.’”
She points the rifle at Jake’s head. “You’ve forgotten who’s in charge. Besides, how do I know you’re telling the truth about your will?”
He slumps in the chair.
I start towards him. Tess waves me off.
“All right,” he says. “Have it your way. I’ll just sit here and die ... and a judge can tell you what’s in my will.”
She stares at him. “You’re no good to me alive, anyway.”
“So, what do I have to gain? Either way, I’m a dead man.”
She nods towards me ... sighs. “Tell her what you need.”
He reaches out to me. “Here, give me a hand. I’ll have to show you.”
Jake wobbles as he stands.
I grab him ... help him stay on his feet ... walk him over to a cabinet. He opens it. Points.
I take things out—bottles of medicine ... a needle ... bandages ... alcohol ... scissors. When we’re done, we move to another cabinet.
He opens the top drawer, his back to Tess ... reaches in ... opens a small box ... touches the pistol inside. He winks at me.
I gulp.
He opens a folder ... pulls out some papers ... lays them on the pistol ... looks at me. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for them.”
Tess calls over to us, “What’s going on over there?”
“Just showing her things I might need.”
She sneers. “Hurry it up.”
He staggers over to the table. “Gotta lie down.”
His words echo in my head.
Ready for them
.
Jake lies down on the table ... points to shelves full of water in bottles. “Water ....”
I rush over ... grab a couple bottles ... carry them to the table. While he guzzles them down, I put the medicine ... needle thing ... bandages ... scissors ... alcohol ... on the table. Reach into my pocket ... feel for the crinkly red wrapper—the cinnamon candy he gave me back at the ranch. Still there.
Tess yells, “Keep those hands where I can see them.”
I show her my hands are empty.
Mercedes—still crouched in the corner—offers to give me a hand.
Tess points the rifle at Mercedes. “Stay right where you are.”
“You really think you should trust her with that needle? If she screws up, she could kill him. Maybe he’s bluffing about that will.”