Little Girl Gone (An Afton Tangler Thriller #1)(90)

“Do you see Darden down there?” Max asked. “Anything?”

“Not yet,” Afton said. “But I’ll tell you something. This kidnapper is a guy who knows Saint Paul. I mean, he either lives here or he grew up here.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You take your average Minneapolis person. They hardly ever venture across the river into Saint Paul. You know why? Because they don’t think it’s worth it. Everything they’re ever going to want is right there on the Minneapolis side.”

“That’s a pretty harsh assessment, don’t you think?”

“But it’s the truth. I’m telling you, this guy, the guy who set this up is from Saint Paul.”

“But where is he?” Max asked. “And where’s Darden?”

Afton scanned the distance. “I don’t know. Wait . . . there’s a pair of headlights bumping toward us. I think that might be Darden. Looks like he’s about a half mile away.”

Max squinted down. “Ah, he’s pulling into that recycling place. Gotta be him.”

Afton lay down on the bridge and peered out through the struts of the metal railing. She pulled the communication device out of her parka and listened. After two seconds Max crouched down to join her.

“The snow is almost knee-deep,” Darden was saying. “And I’m not seeing any tracks at all, so I’m guessing nobody’s been back this way for a while.”

“He sounds scared,” Afton said.

Max lifted a hand and brushed snow from his face, leaving wet streaks. “He should be scared.”

“I don’t know if this is a double cross or not,” Darden continued in hushed tones. “Or if somebody is going to come in from the opposite direction.”

Max studied the bluffs below. “Someone would have to skim down that cliff if they were approaching him from the opposite direction.”

“Could be done,” Afton said.

Max gazed at her for a moment. “Could you do it?”

“Maybe.” She looked over and studied the bluff. “Probably.”


*

ALL right,” Darden said. “I’m still struggling through the snow. There’s that enormous cliff to my left, and the frozen Mississippi River is just off to my right.”

The microphone was working well now, and Afton and Max could hear the crunching of snow along with Darden’s ragged breathing.

“He’s getting tired,” Afton said. She could just barely see him, a tiny dot moving far below, trying to wade through a narrow, open patch of snow, following what was an obliterated trail.

“I don’t see anything moving out here,” Darden said. “Of course, it’s darker than shit. Jeez, I hope those SWAT guys are in place. This is getting weirder by the moment.”

“This feels like an ambush,” Afton said to Max.

“Can’t see anybody else, though,” Max said.

Darden continued to give his play-by-play. “I see a . . . I think it’s a wooden shack up ahead. Anyway, it’s all ramshackle and falling down. Maybe that’s supposed to be the spot where we make the exchange?”

“Careful, careful,” Afton murmured. When she craned her neck, she could see the faint outline of the shack, too, and wondered if the kidnapper lurked inside? Was Elizabeth Ann waiting in there, too, in the terrible bone-chilling cold?

“As soon as I make the exchange,” Darden said, “I’m going to fall flat on the ground and stay down. Then you guys take your shots, okay?”

“Jesus,” Afton breathed.

Darden moved closer to the shack. His raspy voice reflected his inner tension as he shook and shuddered in the freezing cold.

“Damn it, I still don’t see anybody,” Darden said. He paused. “Wait a minute, I think I hear something.” He sounded both stressed and puzzled. “It sounds like something mechanical. Like an outboard motor or a chain saw.”

Afton and Max heard it, too. An annoying buzzing sound, like some kind of giant, mechanized insect.

“What is that?” Max wondered.

Afton knew what it was, but before she could voice an explanation, a snowmobile jounced and roared along the riverbank far below them.

“Shit!” Max cried.

They watched as Darden caught sight of the snowmobile and stumbled. Then he flung his arms out wide and dropped to his knees.

“Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me!” Darden screamed. “I’ve got your money, the full two million dollars. Please just give me back my daughter!”

Afton watched in horror at the tableau that was unfolding below them. The snowmobile buzzed around him in a wide circle and then stopped.

Darden hurled the duffel bag of money toward the snowmobile driver.

“Here’s your money!” Darden cried. “Take it.”

The driver, wearing a black helmet, bubble facemask, and snowmobile suit, leaned sideways on his sputtering machine and swung one leg over. Then, in one quick motion, as if fearing a trap, he tossed down a small bundle and snatched up the bag of money.

Darden scrambled forward on his knees toward the bundle. “Elizabeth Ann!”

The snowmobiler jumped back onto his machine. The engine roared loudly as he kicked it into gear. Then, tossing up an enormous crest of powdered snow, he sped off in the same direction from which he’d come.