First Night of Summer (24 page)

And how did a car hit Sarah on a closed course?

He relaxed his grip and held the wheel steady for the straight portion of the road. A vehicle in his rearview mirror tailgated him. Isaac looked down at the speedometer. It read eighty-five. It was all the urgency the skinny little pavement allowed for. But the white pickup behind them ventured even closer, like it wanted to pass.

What the hell?
He let off the throttle to allow the maniac by. He hoped whoever the idiot with a death wish was wouldn’t slow down after he was in the lead. One more second between him and Sarah was unacceptable. He had to be there for her. He would not fail like he had with Caroline.

Slowing down to fifty-five again, he hit the flat, left-hand curve. They all leaned to the right as Isaac steered the pickup around the bend. The guardrail ran parallel to the road, two feet out from the passenger side. The next curve went right, and everyone leaned the other way. And so it went for the next ten minutes. He looked at the dashboard clock. Nine twenty-five. They were making decent time considering the terrain and a three-quarter-ton pickup. After thirty more minutes, they could get onto a larger highway and really put the pedal to the metal.

Up ahead, he saw it, but Helen said it first. “Someone’s blocking the road.”

She was right. A pickup was stalled across both lanes.

“Are you kidding me? We don’t have time for this.”

They slowed, coming to a complete stop twenty feet out, and searched for a way around.

Chapter Fifty-Three

A
massive ponderosa pine towered into the heavens. The charred, split trunk set it apart from the others, a result of lightning. Ricky admired Mother Nature’s fantastic violence.

He had the tree marked on his GPS with a waypoint. The little blue car passed the dot on the screen at exactly the same time he drove past. All his desires and schemes were finally at a head. It was time to engage the target and put himself in the line of fire.

From his location, no more paved roads branched off Highway 68 until the little town of Espanola. It was a solid thirty-five miles down the valley and the only place for Isaac to go through on his way to I-25. Ricky had to stop following and take the lead. The narrow road and frequent blind curves made the task exceedingly difficult. Isaac also didn’t make the chore any easier. He drove at a breakneck pace.

Ricky tried to go around twice. Each time, he ran out of road before the next curve and double yellow line. Nerves wet his palms with a clammy layer of sweat. He needed to pass Isaac. Now. Otherwise, he could end up short on time and unable to properly camouflage the setup. Preparations had to be made for everything to look authentic. At their current speeds, it would take several minutes to build a cushion.

Ricky took the next curve as hard as he dared. As soon as the road opened up, he put his front bumper within feet of Isaac’s tailgate. The act went against the very core of his nature. He knew the difference between being seen and being noticed. It was impossible to live life without being seen. Avoiding notice, on the other hand, was a skill Ricky had refined to an art. But Josie called to him like none before.

He inched to the left and, with the road open ahead, hoped his Chevy had the muscle to quickly slip around. To his satisfaction, Isaac eased off the accelerator just enough to shoot past. He swerved back into his lane a mere instant before the next blind curve.

Ricky scoped them out with his peripheral vision. Helen and Josie glanced his way, but Isaac kept his eyes on the road.
Distance is what I need now. Approximately one minute of separation would do
.

Josie stayed at the pinnacle of his motivation. There was only himself, the road, and the prize that awaited him. Fortune was in his front pocket and had been all weekend. He threw caution to the wind and rocketed down the mountain road without thought of personal safety. He slowed as little as he dared on the curves and floored it on the straights.

His second marker showed up in perfect sync with the GPS, a boulder that had once broken off the cliff above. He took a deep breath. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead.
This is it. I can do it
.

He jammed down on the brake pedal as if his life depended on it. The tires alternated between bursts of skidding and groaning as the antilock brakes fought to harness the momentum. Even through the anticipation, adrenaline flooded his system at the harsh sound and feel of a sudden stop. He went from seventy-five miles per hour to a dead standstill.

“Holy shit!”

He wished for a moment to collect himself, but seconds were precious.

Ricky parked the pickup at a forty-five degree angle to the road and checked the gap between his front bumper and the rock face. In his side mirror, he did the same with the rear bumper and guardrail. Both ends were too narrow for a vehicle to go through. He quickly killed the engine and left the keys in the ignition.

At the front of the pickup, he popped the hood. He did each task in the order he had mentally rehearsed, precise, efficient, and never frantic. As he put the finishing touches on the scene, the sound of an approaching vehicle echoed off the canyon walls, and anxiety overwhelmed him.

Deception beckoned his best poker face.

Chapter Fifty-Four

G
iven the current predicament, Isaac was prepared to do something he would never do under normal circumstances, drive by a motorist in need and leave him behind. His main concern was not assisting the unfortunate person, but to get the vehicle out of the way so he could keep traveling.

“That’s the guy who just passed us,” he said.

Helen stared out the windshield. “Where’s all that smoke coming from?”

Waves of billowing, gray smoke poured from under the open hood.

“Looks like a hose busted.” Isaac unbuckled his seat belt. “We can’t waste time. I’ll help him off the road, and then we’re gone.”
His problems can’t be bigger than mine
.

When the man appeared out of the smoke and walked toward them, Isaac’s perception immediately changed.

“I know that guy.” He put the gearshift in park. “He works at the grocery store.”

“Oh my!” Helen exclaimed. She covered the lower part of her face with both hands. “That’s … a lot of blood.”

The sight of blood all over a familiar face softened Isaac’s attitude. To not help this person would be inhumane, regardless of the rush. He jumped out of the cab and placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of the injured man he knew as Derek. “Are you okay?”

Ricky lifted his head and touched his fingers to his nose. He pulled them back and looked at the fresh coating of blood. “I think I’m fine. I hit my nose on the steering wheel. Damn thing surprised the hell out of me. Kind of shook me up.”

Isaac scanned about the smoking pickup. “What surprised you?” His hand was still on the man’s shoulder.

“A deer was right in the middle of the road when I came around the curve. I didn’t have time to stop or …” He waved his hand around at the setting. “Room to swerve.” Ricky leaned over, resting his shaky hands on his knees.

Isaac noticed. “That’s the adrenaline. Take a few deep breaths. It’ll wear off in a minute.” He pulled a white handkerchief from his hip pocket. “Here.” He handed it over. “You work at the grocery store, right?”

Ricky nodded and held the cloth to his nose, a look of recognition and gratitude in his eyes.

“C’mon. Let’s take a look at your truck.”

Isaac stood in front of the grill and open hood. An image of a warm, Fourth of July night and fireworks filling the sky skipped through his mind. He couldn’t say why, so he pushed the thought aside. Smoke continued to roll out from the engine area. Across the grill and headlights, he found a generous slathering of blood.

Isaac let out a whistle. “Yeah, you nailed him all right.” He swiveled his head around. “Where’s the deer?”

Ricky pointed down the hill to the river. “It ran off that way.” He sniffed and wiped his face with his shirt. “Sucker busted my radiator and didn’t even die.”

Isaac kneeled. He wanted to look under the Chevy. Whatever fluid caused all the smoke would surely have made a puddle on the ground. He placed one hand on the bumper for balance and the other on the asphalt for support. He craned his neck lower to get a good look.

As soon as Isaac’s eyes were trained down, Ricky stepped closer. He drew a high-voltage stun gun from underneath his shirttail and pressed it firmly into Isaac’s bare lower back. The prongs were centered directly on top of his spine when Ricky pulled the trigger.

Isaac’s body arched as his muscles succumbed to the current of eight hundred thousand volts. He collapsed to the ground without a word, unable to overpower the onslaught of electricity invading his neuromuscular system. With his location in front of Ricky’s pickup, Helen and Josie couldn’t see.

Ricky zapped him again, this time at the base of his skull. A slight groan escaped Isaac’s lips while Ricky held the pulse for a full five seconds.

Isaac wouldn’t get to his feet in the next couple minutes; Ricky was certain. But after that, he couldn’t say with confidence. To further safeguard the bait and switch, he put a heavy-duty zip tie around Isaac’s wrists and cinched it unmercifully tight. Another went around his ankles and held them together. He reared back with his leg and planted the toe of his boot into Isaac’s ribs for good measure. Satisfied that his foe could do nothing to stop him, Ricky readied himself to take out Helen.

From around the front of the pickup, he limped across the blacktop and went to her window.

She rolled it down with a look of concern. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’ll be all right. Hit my nose on the steering wheel. That’s all.” He tapped it twice with his pointer finger. “It’ll be good as new when I get cleaned up.”

“What happened?”

“A deer was right in the middle of the road. Dumb thing must have had a death wish.” He flashed his trademark smile, so gentle, handsome, and unsuspicious. Those bedroom blues bored right into Helen.

“I’m so sorry.” Genuine compassion showed in her words. In no way did she feel in danger.

He motioned to his pickup. “I need to call a tow truck to get me back to town. I understand you guys are in a bit of a hurry?”

“Yes. Family emergency.”

Ricky nodded. “I understand. I won’t keep you, but could I borrow your cell phone?”

“Of course.” She bent forward and reached into the floorboard for her purse.

As Helen leaned over, Ricky slipped his arm through the open window. The handheld weapon found a bare patch of skin between her ear and shirt collar. She slumped in response with a jerky spasm. Just like he did Isaac, he nailed her again at the top of her spine. Inserting the charge into the body’s central nervous system via the spinal column gained maximum effect. Five seconds of treatment seemed like an eternity but ensured disability, especially with her smaller stature.

Ricky’s finger pecked at the unlock button. He swung the door out and reached for her purse in the floorboard. Thin and nimble, his fingers rummaged through the contents until he found her cell phone. He spun around and flung it into the flowing river below. Isaac’s cell rested in the center console’s cup holder. Ricky leaned against Helen’s body. His chest touched her side, and he grasped the phone. A swift toss sent it spiraling into the ravine.

He stretched across the cab again, and his body pushed Helen’s limp torso to the middle. He twisted the keys out of the ignition and put them in his pocket. The idea of leaving them stranded on a lonely stretch of road with no means of communication or transportation relieved him.

All the weeks of waiting were over. It was just him and Josie.

He turned his attention to the backseat. She stared at his familiar face, wide-eyed, and scooted to the far corner. He opened the backdoor and reached out for her leg. Finally, his hungry fingers found her and latched on.

Chapter Fifty-Five

I
saac remembered kneeling on the pavement to inspect underneath the smoking pickup. Then a sudden blast of power knocked him to the ground. Now, lying on his stomach with chip seal gravel pocking into his shirtless skin, he tried to clear the fuzz from his scrambled head.

He rolled onto his back to get a better look at the surroundings. Every muscle in his body ached with the motion. But the discomfort was not nearly as sharp as the cutting sensation on his wrists. As he turned over, the weight of his body smashed his bound hands. Wedged between his lower back and the asphalt, the plastic flex cuffs dug into his flesh. He shifted, trying to release the pressure, and found his motor skills as sluggish as a reptile in winter.

Disorientation morphed into fear.
What happened to me?

He could see his dad’s truck sitting right where he had left it. Rotating his head in the other direction, he saw an open stretch of blacktop. The disabled vehicle was gone, disappeared somewhere beyond the next blind curve.
I have to move before I get run over
.

He tried to use his legs and, like his hands, discovered they were tied together. Lying on his side, arms behind his back, he pushed with his feet. A makeshift inchworm motion slowly edged him off the pavement. A portion of his ribcage and most of his upper arm succumbed to the abrasive surface. Tiny beads of blood began to seep from the skin. At the white stripe, he tucked himself into the narrow space against the guardrail. Sun glistened off a fresh layer of sweat from the effort.

He managed to sit up and look at his feet. The zip tie was thick—the kind police use to arrest people when they run out of proper handcuffs—and allowed no wiggle room. The plastic was too strong to break with brute strength, especially with his current lack of muscular cooperation.

He racked his brain, searching for a memory of how he ended up this way. An image of warm Fourth of July nights streaked through his head again, the same thought he had right before leaning over to check for a fluid leak. He attempted to shake the thought. Then realization hit.