Anacacho, An Allie Armington Mystery (28 page)

I kneel, knees screaming against the
unforgiving floor, clutch the back of Jed’s seat, and pull myself
forward. Adelena’s arms circle my waist, pulling me backwards, and
when I feel Miguel’s added tonnage, it’s like I’m dragging an
elephant.

Jed guns the motor a second time and the
tail pops away from the ground.

No cheer this time, only silence. I hold my
breath, praying there will be enough lift beneath the wings. Then,
magically, we slowly rise above the mesa and into the night.

The plane sways, dips, then rights itself as
Jed adjusts, then readjusts the fuel mix to avoid a stall. From his
earlier description, I know the next few minutes in the air are
crucial. If he can get the plane on an even keel, we’re outta here.
If he can’t—I don’t want to think about that or the searing pain in
my knees, so I look out the window to see the widening gap between
us and the three sets of bobbing headlights below.

The minutes that follow seem like hours, but
finally, Jed shouts, “Okay. Relax. But no quick movements. You
first, Miguel. Slide back to your original position. Adelena, stay
where you are for now.”

I lose half the elephant. Still, my
shoulders quiver from the strain of holding so tightly to the seat
and I’ve lost all feeling in my knees.

Though the motor drones on, the plane dips
slightly to the rear, then levels out again.

To my relief, Jed seems to have regained
some optimism because his next words are a command. “So far, so
good. Okay, Adelena. Settle back against Miguel. Allie, stay
forward.”

Again the plane dips, but resumes its level
flight with ease.

“
All right, Allie. Ease
back into a sitting position, but take it real easy. A sudden shift
in weight could stall us out.”

I release my grip and slowly rearrange my
aching legs. The steady hum of the motor, and the feel of Adelena’s
knees against my back are pure heaven.

My initial experience of heaven quickly
fades as the minutes crawl by and Adelena’s shins turn into razor
blades. I check my watch, hoping to see the minute hand has made it
to twelve, but it’s still stuck on six.

The pale glow of the instrument panel
creeping around Jed’s shoulders gives the plane’s interior an eerie
cast. Behind me Miguel and Adelena are talking, but the drone of
the engine mutes their words. No point in trying to talk to Jed. He
has enough on his mind. Nothing to do but try to keep my full
weight off Adelena’s slender support.

I must doze a little because I jerk awake at
Jed’s shout. “Hey, people. Great news. We’re finally back in the
good ol’ U. S. of A.”

I never thought I’d be so glad to hear those
words. I’ve been gone less than a week, but it seems like a
century.

Despite my euphoria, I whine, “How much
longer?”

Jed laughs. “Wow, that’s one right out of my
little boy’s mouth.”

What a shocker. I assumed Jed was single
since he was in such a dangerous line of work. Besides he doesn’t
look old enough to be married, much less have children.

“
How old is your
son?”

“
Four. His baby sister
turned two yesterday. I was hoping to be there to celebrate. Thank
the Lord I have an understanding wife.”

“
She must
worry.”

“
She’s used to it. Grew up
in a law enforcement family. Her dad was a Texas
Ranger.”

I pause, wondering what to say next. “Was”
could mean killed in the line of duty, dead, or retired—hopefully
the latter.

Jed saves me. “Cotton was supposed to be at
the party. He’s my daughter’s godfather.”

My heart flutters against my chest as the
unasked flies forward. “So, is he married too?”

He gives a wry chuckle. “If you want to call
it that.”

Not at all what I wanted to hear about the
sheriff, but it makes his actions toward me, or lack thereof, more
understandable.

Jed breaks into my rationalizations. “Worst
mistake he ever made. He met Julia Lee on a blind date when we were
at Quantico. She couldn’t wait to let you know she was a direct
descendent of Robert E. Lee and a real Virginia blue blood. She
even tried to get Bill to drop Cotton and take her name. Said she
just couldn’t feature herself being Julia Lee Cotton for the rest
of her life. I thought that would tear it right then. But it
didn’t. He thought it was funny.

“
They had only dated two
weeks before they eloped. Her family was fit to be tied. Only
daughter marrying some hick Texan instead of a FFV... sorry, First
Family of Virginia. Hell, as far as I was concerned, outside of
being one of the best-looking broads I’ve ever seen, she didn’t
have one redeeming feature.” “Then he’s divorced?”

“
Almost five years. After
a couple of months, she moved back to the plantation. He took it
real bad. It was a long time before he got over that
bitch.

“
When we were assigned to
this project, it was like manna from heaven. He eats, sleeps, and
breathes this job. Hasn’t looked at another woman
since.”

I want to say, “Oh, yes he has.” Instead a
shiver shinnies up my spine as I conjure up Bill, his eyes marrying
mine, his voice echoing in my ear, I know more about you than you
can ever imagine.

“
Will the sheriff be
meeting us?” I croak, congratulating my instincts. Knowing now
there is definitely something brewing between Bill and
me.

Jed shakes his head. “I doubt it. No way to
contact him. We’ll probably have to hoof it to the highway and
hitch a ride into Uvalde.”

Again I ask. “How much longer?”

“
About fifteen minutes...
if we’re lucky.”

I check my watch. Almost ten o’clock. I’m
not at all happy about Jed’s “if we’re lucky.”

After what seems like the Iron Age, Jed
shouts, “I can see the Uvalde beacon; too bad we can’t land there.”
“Why can’t we?”

“
This plane is listed as
stolen property.” “But it belongs to Paul.”

“
Gibbs reported it stolen
before we could get to him.”

I turn my attentions to the sea of darkness
below. “How will you find the Anacacho strip in the dark?”

“
There’s a mercury vapor
light on the strip side of the hangar.

Works on a photo-cell. Perfect guide to the
runway. Don’t worry, I can land this plane blindfolded.”

The drone of the motor deepens as we
descend. Then, to my horror, the prop feathers and dies.

Jed’s voice is dead calm. “Don’t worry,
we’ll make it. Just sit tight until we meet the ground and come to
a stop.”

Behind me, Miguel and Adelena join in a Hail
Mary.

I send up a small prayer and brace
myself.

The air rushing past is the only other
sound, but the Piper remains rock steady. Not one waggle. Like a
feather, we float toward the bright light ahead.

The wheels screech against pavement, but
with no motor, the flaps give little resistance, and we roll
on.

“
What if we hit
something?”

“
Nothing to hit but a cow.
Keep cool. There’s still plenty of runway left. I
promise.”

I relax, peer out the window, then petrify.
Driving slowly alongside the Piper is the dark, grim specter of a
Suburban.

I TAP JED ON THE SHOULDER, then lean close to his
ear. “Company to our right.”

He peers into the darkness. “Damn. We’re
bone dry and at the mercy of whoever’s behind that wheel.” He
cranes again. “What bothers me is, Suburbans are the druggies’
vehicle of choice.”

As the plane squeaks to a stop, the
Suburban, headlights still dark, continues in a slow arcing turn,
then halts about ninety feet in front of the Piper.

Jed twists to face me and says, “Okay, this
is what I see. My automatic’s loaded and I have a couple of boxes
of ammo under the seat. But if I fire first, we’ll all be dead the
next minute. Canvas isn’t much protection against bullets.”

From the back Miguel offers, “Why don’t we
men get out first? See who it is. Maybe they’ll think it’s just the
two of us.” “I’m sure they’ve spotted a woman in here with me.
Since you two are so far back in the plane, I’d lay good odds they
don’t know about you. The best bet is for Allie to get out with
me.”

“
You take charge of the
automatic and the ammo, Miguel.” He pauses. “You can shoot, can’t
you?”

“
Since I was ten years
old, Señor.”

“
That’s good enough for
me. At least you’ll get a few shots off if you have to.”

Jed lets his shoulder holster slip down his
arm, then leans forward. “Try to stay in the same position you’re
in now, everybody. Allie, without making too many moves, drag the
holster along the floor beside you until Adelena can reach it.
Next, slide the ammo boxes along. I’ll try to distract them by
going through check-out and shut-down motions.”

Miguel says, “I have the automatic and the
bullets, Señor Jed. Ready when you are.”

Jed opens the door flaps, then locks the top
flap in place. “Good luck everybody. Keep a cool head.”

He steps onto the tarmac, then helps me down
to stand beside him to face whatever comes next. For a few endless
seconds it’s just the two of us, ruffled by a gentle breeze from
the south, with the noise of the Suburban’s idling engine the only
sound.

I let out a sigh of relief. “So far so good.
At least they haven’t turned on their headlights.”

The roar of the Suburban engine, accompanied
by the glare of hi-beams, catapults us into action.

Jed yells, “Head for the tail. I’ll take the
other side. Grab on to me there.”

We make the tail, throw ourselves across the
rear fuselage, and lock arms, just as the Suburban, engine
screaming, headlights blinding, rams.

The next moments are slow-motion as the nose
collapses inward with a sickening, crick-snap-crunch, then the
plane gives a sluggish shudder and groans resistance as its tires
begin to reluctantly roll in reverse beneath the weight of the
heavy car. As Piper Cub and Suburban pick up momentum, Jed and I
are shoved backward down the tarmac toward the hangar, our
rag-doll-feet bouncing crazily in front of us. To let go means
death beneath the Suburban’s wheels—to hang on means only a few
minutes more of life. I steel myself for what I pray will be a
painless exit.

Brakes screech, jamming my body into a
contorted jackknife. Jed loosens his grip and murmurs, “Hit the
ground, roll to your side and remain motionless. It’s our only
chance.”

I do as he says.

Whoever is inside, revs the engine to peak
rpm, sending a rush of heat over me. There’s nothing to do but lie
there and wait.

After what seems an eternity, gears grind as
the Suburban slams into reverse. Two more revs and the dark menace
roars into the night, leaving the wounded plane in the glow of the
mercury vapor light.

Jed finally offers a hoarse, “Hot damn. It
worked. But I can’t figure why they stopped. A few more feet and we
would’ve been history.”

“
Maybe they were worried
about damaging their engine.” “Could be. You okay?”

“
I guess.” I roll to a
sitting position, then try to stand, but my knees fail and I hit
the ground.

Jed steps toward me and I croak, “I’m fine.
Better check Miguel and Adelena.”

He ducks beneath the wing, and after a few
grunts punctuated by expletives, heads for the hangar and comes
back with a crowbar and flashlight.

“
I’m going to try and pry
the seat forward. Hold the light so I can see what I’m
doing.”

I stagger toward him and grab the
flashlight. “Are they all right?”

“
Miguel’s okay. Adelena’s
out.”

Jed works for a good five minutes before the
seat begins to inch forward and Adelena’s hesitant moan turns into
a shrill wail.

I hear my own scream. “My God, can’t you see
she’s caught under there?”

Jed’s reply is a calm contrast. “Let’s not
panic the subject, okay? Focus the light down here.”

I get his message, compose myself, then move
the light down to reveal an even worse situation than I imagined.
Adelena’s right thigh is exposed beneath ripped denim. It’s badly
contused and angled in an unnatural position.

Jed’s terse, “We need help bad,” says it
all. “Is there a phone in the hangar?”

“
No.”

“
The closest house is the
Dardens’.”

He shakes his head. “Dardens? Don’t know
’em.” “Well, I do. But I don’t know the area very well.”

Jed leans into the cockpit. “We’re going to
get water, Miguel. Be right back. Okay?” He motions me to follow
him.

When we enter the hangar, Jed says, “Did you
see that thigh? It’s a compound fracture at best. No telling what’s
with the other leg, or what internal injuries she might have
sustained from the seat being jammed into her.”

He heads for a water cooler that stands
beneath a long shelf, pulls down a small Thermos, fills it, and
hands it to me. “Not much in the way of help, but at least we’ve
got something to give them.”

He extracts four plastic cups from a
dispenser, grabs a small stack of cloths from the shelf, then
places them in my arms. “Do the best you can for them. I’ll be
back.”

“
But you don’t know where
to go.” “Don’t worry, I was a Boy Scout.”

“
Just a minute here. I’ve
known the Dardens for years, and I have a general idea which way
their house is. I’m the one who should go.”

“
Man, are you a pain.
Okay, okay. Don’t guess anything much could get you but a rattler
or a coyote.”

“
I’ll be back as soon as I
get help.”