Against the Sky (26 page)

Cord's silver Chevy pickup was parked in the lot outside the Eagle's Nest Bar. He'd backed into one of the spaces in case he needed to leave in a hurry. Nick did the same with the Explorer.

The bar was nothing fancy, just a brick building with a neon beer sign in the window. Country music filtered through the walls. Nick stepped up on the porch and shoved through the door.

Cord intercepted him just on the other side. “I don't think she's here yet.”

“Let's get a table. Somewhere in the back where we can talk.” They moved in that direction, the sound of their heavy boots on the old wooden floor masked by a Willie Nelson song coming from the jukebox next to the bar. The place was about half full, mostly working men, halfa-dozen women. There were always more men than women in Alaska.

He checked out the patrons, a beer-drinking crowd. A dozen different varieties were on tap behind a long, rustic bar lined with stools.

Nick sat down across from Cord in the corner. A flame flickered in a red glass candleholder in the middle of the table. Through one of the windows, he could see a group of smokers puffing away around a fire pit out in back of the bar.

When a waitress arrived, he ordered a pitcher of Alaskan Amber and three glasses, just to fit in.

“You got it, honey.” The buxom woman in a short black skirt and white blouse sashayed back toward the bar, then returned a few minutes later and set the pitcher and glasses down on the table.

Nick filled two glasses and handed one to Cord, who took a drink, wiped the foam off his mouth, and sat back in his chair to wait.

Nick was sipping slowly, trying to make it last, when the front door swung open. Orange light from the neon beer sign illuminated the figure of a petite, black-haired woman.

“That's gotta be her,” Cord said as she made her way deeper into the bar.

Nick frowned. “She looks pretty young to have a ten-year-old kid.”

“She's heading this way. I guess we're about to find out.”

The young woman who walked up to them had long, glossy black hair, dark, almond eyes, and an amazingly pretty face. She was clearly Alaska Native, one who looked more like a college girl than a prostitute.

She stopped at the edge of the table. “You're Reeves and Brodie?”

“That's right.” Ever the gentleman, Cord rose and pulled out a chair. “I'm Cord. This is Nick. Have a seat, Ms. Johnson.”

She sat down wearily. “It's been years since anyone's called me that.”

“We can change that,” Nick said softly.

Her black eyes gleamed in the light of the candle. “I'm really hoping you can. I have a daughter ten years old. I want her safe.”

“You understand what we need in order to make that happen?” Nick asked, filling a glass with beer and setting it down in front of her.

She reached for the glass. “You want Connie Bela Varga.”

“That's right,” Nick said. “Can you give him to us?”

Her hand trembled as she lifted the beer glass and brought it to her lips, took a drink and set it back down on the table. “I was twelve when one of Bela Varga's men dragged me out of my mother's car while she was in the market. I've never seen her since.”

“Jesus,” Cord said. “Where's your mother now?”

“I don't know. I got pregnant when I was fifteen. By then I was in the life. After my daughter was born, I had a little more freedom. I sent a note to the village I'd lived in, but I never heard back. Mom drank a lot. I don't know if she's even still alive.”

“If you help us, we'll find out,” Nick said.

“We'll help you make a new start,” Cord added. “You can be Carol Johnson again.”

“He'll kill me, you know. He'll kill Evie, too.”

Nick's stomach knotted. “We won't let that happen,” he promised. “We'll make sure you're protected until this is over. If you testify, you'll be placed in witness protection. It'll mean a fresh start for both of you. If that isn't necessary, we know people willing to help you and Evie start over.”

She nodded, her features resigned. “I'd rather be dead than go on the way I have been, living in constant fear for my child. I don't want Evie to live the kind of life I have.”

“Then tell us what we need to know,” Nick said.

“I can do better than that.” She opened her coat and pulled out a small leather-bound volume. “This belongs to Connie Bela Varga. He starts a new book every year.” Her lips curved into a grim smile. “He's not exactly into the digital age.”

“Where'd you get it?” Nick asked.

“I got it from Connie's house. I'm there at least a couple of nights a week. Doesn't matter that I think he's a pig. Connie takes what he wants and he wants me. And keeping him happy keeps my little girl safe.”

“For as long as it lasts,” Cord said.

“That's right. I'm no fool. I know it's only a matter of time until he replaces me. What's going to happen to my daughter when that happens?”

Nick looked down at the book she had placed on the table. “What's in it?”

“Dates, times, names, and places. This is a list of names—girls his men picked up last year and where they found them. Most of them are underage. They sold some of them. If the girl resisted, they got her hooked on drugs. Some of them died, but others are still alive, still being held against their will.”

Nick picked up the book, his fingers curling around the edge, biting into the leather. “We'll find these girls. We'll see they're released, try to get them back to their families.”

“Most don't have families. They're runaways, girls from foster homes or abusive parents. But a few of them are like me. They were taken. They want to go home.”

She stood up from her chair. “I have to go. I don't want them to know I was here.”

Nick handed her an envelope. “Lacey's money's in there, and a thousand for you. My number's inside.” The number of the disposable. “If anything goes wrong or it looks like you or Evie might be in danger, I want you to call. We'll have a place for you to go. Somewhere safe.”

She nodded, swallowed. “Thank you.”

“We'll be in touch as soon as we can work things out,” Cord promised.

“How do I reach you?” Nick asked.

“I'll reach you. I'll call you tomorrow night. Will that be enough time?”

“If it isn't,” Nick said, “we'll talk about it then.”

Carol nodded.

Nick watched her cross the room, her shoulders a little straighter. She flicked a last glance in their direction as she shoved through the door and disappeared out into the darkness.

Nick glanced down at the book he still held in his hand. “We need to see what we've got.”

Cord nodded. “Let's get out of here.”

 

 

“We should be okay at my place,” Cord said as they walked out the door. “We can figure things out when we get there.”

Nick nodded. “Sounds good.”

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the living room of Cord's apartment, a newer, nicely furnished second-floor unit with a vaulted ceiling. Cord always did have good taste.

“This information is invaluable,” Cord said, flipping through the pages of the book a second time, then handing it back to Nick. “We need to get it to Taggart. There's no way he can ignore this kind of evidence.”

“Before we talk to anyone, we need to make a copy. There's a FedEx Kinko's on Northern. I'll stop on my way back to the cabin. But I'm not going to Taggart. I want to talk to Charlie Ferrell first.”

“You don't trust Taggart?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know. Something doesn't feel right.”

“Then maybe I should tell you Taggart ordered me to bring you in.”

Nick's head came up. “You're supposed to arrest me?”

“If I have to. I'm supposed to get you to the station one way or another.”

Nick rose from his chair, his adrenaline pumping, his muscles suddenly tense. He and Cord were friends, but Cord was also a cop. And he didn't take orders from his superior lightly.

“Then I guess we have a problem. I'm not going in with you and I'm not giving Taggart this information.”

Cord slowly rose to his feet. “Take it easy, Nick. I told the captain I didn't know where you were. As far as I'm concerned, I still don't.”

Nick slowly relaxed. He should have known he could trust his best friend. “This needs to happen fast. I'll call you as soon as I talk to Ferrell.”

“What if Carol Johnson calls and needs help?” After meeting her, neither of them seemed able to think of her as Crystal.

For the first time that night, Nick grinned. “Then I guess your cabin will just get a little more crowded.”

Cord smiled and shook his head. “Keep me posted.”

“Will do.” Grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, Nick shrugged it on. Shoving the book into an inside pocket, he headed out the door.

 

 

Derek Hunter stood at the cabin window. At half past midnight, Nick had phoned. He was running a little late, but he was on his way back up the mountain.

Mary and Jimmy were in upstairs rooms asleep, the dog in with Jimmy. Samantha had finally gone up to bed, but he figured she wouldn't be sleeping. She'd be waiting for Nick. It didn't matter that according to both of them, she was heading back home the end of the week. Samantha was clearly in love with him.

He wasn't sure how Nick felt. Hard to tell with a guy like him. In lust for sure. Maybe something more. Samantha was a keeper. He wondered if Nick had figured that out.

He scanned the area outside the window, looking for headlights. It was after one thirty. Nick should be back any minute.

He caught a flash of light on the road, a vehicle winding its way up the hill. He relaxed a little, figuring it was Nick's Explorer. Then he spotted a second pair of headlights rolling along behind the first. A little ways closer to the cabin, both sets of lights went off.

Unease rolled through him. Reaching for the lamp on the table, he switched off the light, then cracked the window and heard the hum of engines driving toward the house through the darkness.

Fuck.
Moving quickly, he grabbed the AR-15 he'd left in the car last time and decided to bring it in with him tonight. Now he was glad he had. He slung the weapon over his shoulder, pulled his Beretta out of the holster at his waist, checked the load, and shoved it back in. He watched the cars moving closer, caught an occasional glimpse when the moon broke through the clouds.

A pair of SUVs. He wondered how many men were in each. Leaving the window, he hurried up the stairs, banged on Mary's bedroom door, threw it open.

“Get dressed. Get Jimmy and get ready to leave. Stay in the bedroom until I come for you.”

He pounded on Samantha's door. When he opened it, she was sitting up in bed, a book in her lap, reading by the glow of a tiny book light.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the weapon slung across his chest. “What is it?”

“Get dressed. We may have to leave. Turn the light off and stay in here until I come get you.”

The light went off and she went into action even before he closed the door.

By the time he got downstairs, the cars were almost at the top of the hill. He shoved the window open and used the barrel of the machine gun to knock out the screen. The vehicles rolled to a halt near the deck out in front, and the doors swung open. Six men unloaded, all of them armed.

“Send out the boy,” one of them called when they spotted him in the window. “Do that and we'll leave.”

“What do you want with him?”

“That's none of your business. Send him out or we come in and get him.”

Derek's jaw hardened. “Some of you will die if you try. Maybe not all, but more than a few.”

One of them tipped his head to the side and two of them broke away, keeping low and circling toward the back of the house. Behind him, he heard footfalls coming down the stairs, turned to see Jimmy carrying one of Cord's hunting rifles.

“Cover the back,” Derek said, hating to get the kid involved, but not having any other choice. “Shoot them if you have to.” He turned back to the men out front, knew they had heard the exchange. “I'm not the only one in here with a gun. You sure this is what you want to do?”

Four big semi-autos pointed in his direction. “Send him out or we come in.”

Derek held the semi-automatic weapon steady. He had used one in Afghanistan. This one was legal, not fully automatic, but armed with a Slide Fire, allowing him to pull off seven-hundred-fifty rounds a minute if he had to. “First man who moves is going down.”

One of them said something into a two-way radio, the sound crackling through the still night air. Derek heard gun shots, semi-automatic pistol fire slamming into the back of the cabin. Then rifle fire, two shots fairly close together.
Jimmy.
Return fire shattered a window, pounded into the wooden walls. Derek held his position and prayed the kid was okay.

“Let's go.” The men in front split up and started forward.

Derek pulled the trigger, sending a spray of bullets into the ground at their feet and scattering them even more.

“Last chance!” He ducked as shots slammed into the window frame, popped up long enough to spot his targets and lay down a row of lead that stopped them cold. Two men went down screaming as bullets tore into their legs.

Two down, four to go.