Purgatory Ridge

Lindstrom took the cases from the backseat and got out of the Explorer. He walked to the trash cans, put the cases behind them, and returned to his vehicle. The phone rang. Lindstrom answered and listened. “Yes, I understand.”

“What about the exchange?” Cork asked.

“What about our families?” Lindstrom said into the phone. He got an answer and replied, “What assurance do we have?” He closed his eyes and then he hung up. “We drive away. Just keep driving east. If everything’s okay, he’ll call with their location in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s it?”

“What else can we do?”

“We sit. And when he calls again, we negotiate until he gives us our families. The money’s almost within his reach. He’ll be greedy.”

“Cork…” Lindstrom began, then stopped. “All right.”

They sat a minute. The phone rang.

“No deal,” Lindstrom said when he answered. “No more threats. No more promises. Just give us our families, now.” Lindstrom listened, then he looked slowly down. “Cork?”

Cork followed Lindstrom’s gaze. Dead center on Lindstrom’s heart was a small red circle not much larger than a BB.

“Laser sight,” Lindstrom whispered. “He says we head out now or we both die and he takes the money anyway.”

Cork looked hard at the dark outside the Explorer.

“The beacon.” Lindstrom sounded a little desperate. “The others can follow the beacon, Cork.”

“All right,” Cork said.

Lindstrom backed the truck out of the parking area, turned onto the road, crossed the bridge, and kept on going. After a quarter of a mile, the highway curved, and a small private access cut off to the right.

Cork said, “Pull in there and park.”

“What?”

“That private road.”

“He said to keep moving.”

“He can’t see us. And we’re too far for him to hear. Unless he’s got radar or something, he won’t know.”

Lindstrom turned onto the narrow dirt road and parked among thick pines.

“Call Agent Kay. Find out about movement of the case.”

“What if the kidnapper tries to call?”

“He said fifteen minutes.”

Lindstrom dialed the number Kay had given him. “It’s Lindstrom. We made the drop. Is the case moving?” He looked at Cork and shook his head. “We’re about a quarter mile past the drop site, pulled off the road. The kidnapper said he’ll call in fifteen minutes with the location of our families.” Lindstrom nodded at something that was said. “All right.” He hung up. “They’re stopped a half a mile short of the bridge, waiting to see which way the case moves. They’re positioning cars above and below us to stop him if they decide to make the arrest now. They’ll call us when they know.”

Cork looked at his watch a dozen times over the next few minutes. He seemed to be in a warp where seconds dragged out into hours. After five minutes, he opened the door to the Explorer.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t sit.”

He walked to the road and looked at the empty curve behind them. The moon hadn’t yet risen above the Sawtooth Mountains, and the night was dark. Tall pines walled the highway on either side. When he looked up at the narrow swath of sky above him, he felt as if he were looking at another road, one across the heavens and covered with a dust of stars. Where is this all leading? he wondered. Where is the end?

He didn’t feel comfortable with the time. He hurried back to the Explorer. “Any word?”

“No.”

“I don’t like it. Call Kay.”

“It hasn’t been but a few minutes.”

“If he’s smart, he grabbed the money and ran. Get on the phone. Find out if the case is moving.”

Lindstrom did. According to the beacon, the case hadn’t budged.

“I don’t like it,” Cork said. “Do you have that Colt Commander you were carrying at the marina?”

“The glove compartment.”

Cork reached in and pulled out the Colt. He checked the clip.

“What are you doing?” Lindstrom asked.

“Something’s not right. That case should have been snatched by now. I’m going back to see.”

“Cork, if you screw this up, he’ll kill them.”

“He might anyway.”

Cork was out of the Explorer and heading toward the road. He heard the other door of the Explorer slam, and Lindstrom was quickly beside him. “We’re in this together. I’ll take my gun back,” Lindstrom said. “I’m probably a better shot with it than you. But you might want this.” He handed Cork a flashlight.

They kept to the road until they were within a hundred yards of the flowage, then Cork moved into the cover of the trees. He wished there were a moon, something to cast light. As it was, he couldn’t make out the picnic ground at all, even when they were just across the bridge from it, no more than forty yards.

“He has night-vision equipment,” Cork whispered. “That’s why he could see us so well when we parked.”

“Which means he has all the advantage,” Lindstrom said. “When we come across the bridge, he’s sure to spot us.”

Cork could hear the easy trickle of water below them. He knew that because of the drought, the usually deep flowage had been reduced to a shallow ribbon. “Let’s go under the bridge.”