The Lonely Mile(72)
“Anyway,” Miller continued, “Two men came to gather ‘Carli,’ arriving at the storage area about two hours after our fake Krall tied her up and left her inside. One of the men stayed in the car to cover the storage shed’s entrance while the other went inside to collect their prize. We disabled the man outside the shed as soon as the other one disappeared from view and took the second man down without incident immediately afterward.
“The whole operation went off without a hitch and took no more than three minutes from beginning to end, once the bad guys got there. It was really pretty boring compared to what you two went through.”
“Boring is good,” Bill said simply.
“Absolutely. The best part, though, is that the two men we apprehended were just foot soldiers, hired muscle who have absolutely no interest in taking the fall for their employers. They’re singing like proverbial canaries. We believe we will be able to use the information they are giving us to take down a lot of very bad people.
“Do you remember what I told you in the hospital?” Miller asked Bill. “You know, about more cockroaches crawling out from under more rocks to take the place of the ones we capture?”
“I remember,” Bill said. “And it still ticks me off.”
“Amen to that. And I’m still certain it will happen, eventually. But we’re in the process of knocking a very big hole in this particular venture. It’s going to be a long, long time before anyone can ramp up a similar operation. We owe you a debt of gratitude, not that you’ll ever get it from the Bureau. If my bosses find out I said this, I’ll deny it, but last week, you two saved innumerable young women from suffering lives of untold misery. You should be commended. Unofficially, of course. Officially,” Miller said, grinning at Bill, “what you did—going after a serial rapist-slash-murderer on your own—was foolish and irresponsible and cannot be condoned under any circumstances.” He sounded like he was reading from a script.
Bill laughed. “‘Foolish and irresponsible.’ Now you sound like my ex-wife.”
“Speaking of ex-wives…” Carli interrupted.
“Yes?” Bill said. “Do you have a deep, dark secret you need to confess? Perhaps an ex-wife of your own stashed away somewhere?”
Carli laughed. “No, silly, I was referring to your ex-wife, specifically. You know, my mom.”
Agent Miller began edging toward his car. “This sounds personal. I should probably be going.”
“No, stay, just for another couple of minutes,” Carli begged. “I want you to hear this, too.”
Miller stopped backing up, and he and Bill waited expectantly for more. Carli took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve decided what I want to do with my life.”
“Awesome. But what does this have to do with your mom?”
“I need you to convince her I’m serious.”
“Okay, fair enough. Serious about what, exactly?’
“I want to get into law enforcement.”
Bill smiled as Miller whooped. “Hey,” the agent said, “Welcome to the team!” He gave her a high five. “How soon can you start?”
“Uh, I think I need to graduate high school first. Unless—”
“There’s no ‘unless,’” Bill laughed. “Yes, you need to finish high school. Then, get a college degree. Then, after that, if your goal is to pursue a career in law enforcement, I’m sure we can convince your mom to go along.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Carli said. “She hasn’t stopped hovering since I came home.”
“That’ll change,” Bill said. “You were incredibly, unbelievably lucky to escape with your life, and it’s going to take some time for everyone—your mom especially—to come to grips with what happened to you. But I guarantee that, if you decide you want to dedicate your life to a career in law enforcement, your mom will be just like me: crazy proud, and supporting you all the way.
“In the meantime,” Bill said, “I believe these steaks are just about grilled to perfection. And in light of this big news,” he winked at Miller, “I’d like to extend our offer of dinner one more time to Agent Miller. We’ve got ice-cold soda inside, not to mention coffee, and baked potatoes, and corn on the cob. What do you say?”
“You had me at ‘steak.’ Besides, I think I’d better start getting to know my future partner a little better. I’m in!”
Carli beamed, and Bill expertly speared the steaks with a long grilling fork, flipping them onto a serving tray in one smooth motion. He handed the platter to his daughter and settled onto his crutches, ready to tackle the narrow stairs up to his tiny apartment where they would add another place setting at the small kitchen table. The place was cramped and hot, and it was the scene of a memory of Angela Canfield that he would just as soon forget.
But, right now, none of that mattered. Carli was alive, and she was going to be fine, and that was all that mattered.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I’ve been fascinated by the power of the written word my whole life, penning my first thriller somewhere around the age of ten. In this short story, a young man gets lost in the woods during a fierce winter snowstorm and his body is found months later huddled against a tree, a single teardrop frozen onto his dead cheek. I suppose this gives you a fairly accurate insight into my genre sensibilities.