Here and Gone(89)

Danny wound down the driver’s window. The man tilted his head, squinting as he listened to the creak of the lowering glass. Another few seconds of silence. The man glanced back over his shoulder at the SUV, returned his gaze to the pickup.

Danny thought: Now.

He threw the door wide open, slipped out of the truck, hoisted the rifle up, and aimed it through the open window. The big man’s eyes widened and he made a panicked grab for the holster beneath his suit jacket.

‘Don’t,’ Danny called.

Maybe the man didn’t hear. Maybe he thought he could draw and aim fast enough. It didn’t matter either way, because the burst of rifle fire put him on his back, his pistol clattering across the asphalt.

Danny didn’t hesitate. He stepped around the open door and marched toward the SUV, ignoring the desperate gurgles and gasps of the man he had put down. As he neared the SUV, he heard a woman’s breathless voice.

‘Oh God,’ she said, ‘please God, no, no, no, oh God, no, oh God …’

He slowed as he neared the still-open driver’s door. Peering inside, he saw the woman, her body stretched over the cup holders and armrest, the pants pocket of her navy-blue business suit snagged on the gearstick, her hands on the steering wheel as she tried to drag herself across. Around forty, long red hair tied back to tame the curls. She blinked up at Danny.

‘Please don’t kill me,’ she said.

Danny looked into the rear of the car, saw no one else. ‘Where were you going to take them?’ he asked.

‘Las Vegas,’ the woman said. ‘There’s a party. A house in Summerlin.’

She told him the name, the owner of the house, the ringleader, and Danny pictured the face. An Internet billionaire, known for his philanthropy as well as his money.

‘Five years ago,’ Danny said. ‘Do you remember a little girl? Six years old. Black hair, dark eyes.’

The woman shook her head as she let go of the steering wheel. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘There’ve been so many.’

Danny pressed the rifle’s muzzle against the top of her head. She closed her eyes tight.

‘I don’t remember, I’m sorry, please don’t, please, please don’t …’

‘Take me there,’ he said.

She opened her eyes, steadied her breathing, and asked, ‘Will you let me live?’

‘We’ll see,’ Danny said.





59


AUDRA DROVE, THE wind through the shattered window blowing her sweat-soaked hair back, cooling her forehead. Sean and Louise huddled together in the passenger seat, both of them sound asleep. Whiteside in the rear, the metal cage between him and them. In the mirror, she saw him slumped against the door, his eyes hooded, his mouth slack. Bloody sputum trailed from his lips.

She had taken Whiteside’s phone and used its GPS to find her way back to Elder County. Two and a half hours she’d been driving, another twenty minutes to go. The wound on her shoulder burned and itched every time she moved, but she didn’t care. All she wanted in the world now was to crawl into a bed with her children and sleep with them in her arms.

Another few minutes and she saw the sign for Silver Water. Audra slowed the car, pulled in, and applied the hand brake. Up ahead, on the other side of the exit, was the spot where Whiteside had stopped her just three days ago.

‘Collins was right.’

His voice startled her. She looked up to the mirror, saw him staring back, his eyes glistening.

‘About what?’ she asked.

‘I should’ve killed you,’ he said.

‘But you didn’t. Even if you had, you would have wound up back here anyway. Even if you got all that money, it would’ve cursed you. You know that, don’t you?’

He looked away from the mirror, then back again. ‘Will you do one thing for me?’ he asked.

‘What?’

Whiteside exhaled, a watery sigh. A tear rolled down his bloody cheek.

‘Kill me,’ he said. ‘Just put a bullet in my head and dump me out here.’

Now Audra looked away, turned her gaze to the rolling desert, the distant mountains, the ocean of blue above.

‘I know you want to,’ he said.

She looked back to the mirror, locked eyes with him. ‘Yeah, I want to. But I’m not going to. Don’t worry, you’ll get your due.’

Audra turned the key in the ignition, put the car into drive, and set off once more. She made the turn into the exit, climbed the winding road, remembering being in the back of this same vehicle, behind that same cage, no idea of what lay ahead of her. A deep sorrow took hold of her as she crested the rise and began the descent into the basin on the other side.

The same switchbacks, the same clusters of houses, the same desperate poverty as just a few days ago, but all different now. She knew that nothing would be the same again, not for her, not for her children.

Whiteside sniffed and whimpered in the rear of the car as she approached the bridge across what was left of the river, crossed it, and entered Silver Water. He banged his head on the glass once, twice, three times, leaving a smear of blood there.

Audra eased the cruiser along Main Street to the far end, where state police cars stood outside the sheriff’s station and the town hall. Press trucks parked along the street, reporters milling around, bored expressions on their faces. She stopped the car in the middle of the street and shut off the engine. Then she put her hand on the center of the wheel, pressed down on the horn, held it there until the cops and the reporters raised their heads. She opened the driver’s door, let it swing out as far as its hinges would allow.