In the Belly of Jonah (38 page)

I unclasped my bra and slid out of my panties, tossing both onto the heap. I stood up, straightening my spine and hiking my chin, offering up one final prayer, aloud.

“Thy will be done.”

“What did you say?”

“It’s an ejaculation.”

“A what?”

“A quick little prayer,” I explained. “The nuns taught me how to do that. How to ejaculate. Ejaculations are quick little prayers.”

He laughed again, tossing the sheet toward me. “You are such a strange creature. Now, put that on. Like a toga.”

I stared at the sheet.

“Didn’t the nuns teach you about togas?”

I wrapped the sheet around my chest, happy to be covering my body, shielding myself from the world, from the blistering sun, from his dead eyes. I tied the sheet over one shoulder and tucked the long key into position between the first and second finger of my hand, balling both fists so he’d think I was angry, not hiding something.

We did the O. K. Corral thing again, staring each other down until one flinched.

“Now lie down on the rocks. On your back, head pointed toward me.”

His words, lifeless.

“THE QUARRY’S RIGHT THROUGH
that cut, straight ahead on the road,” Andy Doughty said, pointing at the crest in the hill.

Streeter assessed the landscape. An industrial plant on the left, offices on the right; both on the western side of the ridge, the quarry on the other side to the east.

“He’d be on the other side. In the quarry,” Doughty explained.

“Any way he’d know we’re here?” Kelleher asked.

Ray Martinez pulled up beside Streeter. Their cars were three abreast on the gravel road. Streeter rolled down his window so Martinez could hear.

Doughty shook his head. “No way. My brother works in that plant right there on weekday nights and he says he doesn’t even know if someone’s driving around out here unless he gets lucky and just happens to be standing in the right place at the right time when they drive in.”

“Are there people working there right now?” Streeter asked.

“Quarry, shop, and office are closed on weekends. But a few work at the pulverizing plant to produce 24/7. Probably three, maybe four guys. That’s where Jill Brannigan worked.”

Everyone nodded.

“So, if Jonah Bravo is in the quarry right now with Liv Bergen, there’s no way he would have seen us pull in here, know that we’re here?”

“Only if he’s crouched on top of that ridge somewhere, hiding in the rabbit brush and piñons. Not likely.”

“If we keep going on this road, will he see us?”Streeter pointed straight east, toward the road through the cut right in front of them.

“Probably so. If I were him and didn’t know much about this place, I’d have driven right over the top to be hidden from view from both the plant and the highway. He’d have the place all to himself.”

Brandt piped in. “There are some houses and ranch homes to the east, but Bravo would look like an ant to someone who looked from that distance. They’re way the heck out there on the prairie.”

“Is there another way in?" Streeter asked.

Andy Doughty nodded. “There’s a road they call the south cut. Just beyond that fuel station before you go through the cut. If you turn right, just past the fuel tank, there’s a road that’s about a half mile long on this side of the ridge. Then it cuts left, into the ridge, just like this road. It circles back along the lower edge of the quarry on the east side into this cut right in front of us.”

“Like a big race track,” Martinez said.

Doughty nodded.

“Martinez,” Streeter directed. “Go clear the guys out of the plant. Tell them to buy a cup of coffee somewhere.”

“There’s a café a couple of miles north of here,” Brandt said.

“Good,” Streeter said. “Then come back and hold the ambulance here at the entrance until we give the all clear. Any other road out of this quarry besides this one?”

Doughty and Brandt shook their heads.

Streeter turned to Martinez. “Then shoot the bastard if he tries to escape.”

Martinez grinned. “My pleasure, boss.”

“Doughty, you take Brandt down to the south cut and wait for my signal. You still have the two-way radio?”

Brandt lifted it up and nodded.

“Kelleher’s going to drive to the cut right in front of us, and I’m going to walk up that ridge and get a bird’s-eye view of what’s happening over there. You wait for my signal too.”

Kelleher nodded.

“This guy’s dangerous and out of control. Shoot first and ask questions later,” Streeter said. “Just don’t hurt Liv Bergen.”

Martinez drove up to the plant and gave Streeter a wave as he walked under the silos to the stairs. Doughty and Brandt drove slowly on the road west along the ridge to the south cut. Kelleher pulled up to the north cut and Streeter stepped out of the car, drawing his gun and scrambling up the ridge.

The ridge was steep and tall, higher than he first thought. He was sure Jonah Bravo hadn’t scaled the other side to watch for incoming visitors. It would be too much work. And Bravo was too lazy, Streeter thought.

Ten minutes later, just before reaching the crest of the ridge, Streeter looked back and saw Martinez escorting three other cars away from the plant. He saw the cars peel to the right and head for the café up the road. The ambulance pulled in, lights flashing, no sirens. Martinez flagged it down and pointed in Streeter’s direction.

Streeter crawled the rest of the way onto the ridgetop and perched on his belly overlooking the quarry to the east, peering through cactus and rabbit brush. His eyes landed on a rock ledge about a hundred yards southeast of his position.

His heart quickened. Liv was still alive.

Jonah Bravo was standing with his back to him, Liv Bergen facing him, wearing a sort of toga. Jonah’s pickup was parked nose to the east to the left of the pair.

“I see them. You were right, Doughty. He drove through the north cut and took the first right he could find, out of sight,” Streeter whispered.

Streeter heard three clicks, acknowledgments from Kelleher, Martinez, and Brandt that they all got his message. The ridge was so high he couldn’t see Kelleher in the Jeep at the north cut or Doughty and Brandt’s car to the south. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the paramedics huddled around Martinez’s two-way.

“Kelleher, you’re about a hundred and fifty yards to the subject. When I give you the signal, go through the cut, take a sharp right, and drive a hundred yards. They’re on the edge of a rock ledge. Looks like they’re standing on a steep grade, maybe fifteen- or twenty-degree grade. The rock ledge drops off to the east about thirty or forty feet. Liv is backed up to the edge. No sudden moves, guys.”Three clicks.

Streeter’s gravelly voice was hushed as he continued. “Brandt and Doughty, you’re a long way from the target. I can’t tell if he could see you or not if you start driving around. What I’d rather you do is block that exit with your car, and Doughty, you start walking north, just past the cut on the east side. You’ll have a steep climb at first, but you’ll be above the target. Try to walk about a third of a mile. Don’t let him see you.”

One click.

“Brandt, you stay on the road. Walk the circle down beneath the quarry. Stay out of sight if you can manage. Don’t let him get by you by going downhill.”

One click.

“Martinez, stand by.”

One click.

“Once in position, Brandt and Doughty, no one move until I give the word.”

Streeter inched along the scratchy shrubs until he could see where he could crawl down the reclaimed slope of the mine, easing closer to where they stood. He needed to get closer if he were going to get off a clean shot.

He was within seventy yards when he saw Liv jerk to the left toward the pickup, Jonah Bravo sprinting after her.

“I SAID, LIE DOWN.”

Was he kidding?

Dr. Jay cradled a fancy camera in one hand; the other fished for something in his pocket. My mind flashed to the Dalí book, wondering if I saw anything depicting a woman in a toga on the rocks. Nothing came to me except the mangled distortions of his more bizarre work, the sick depictions of people like Jill. The water slicing through tissue and organs and bone. I remembered the truck, the mobile butcher shop. An idea flashed in my mind. We were both equidistant to the pickup. Both doors were still wide open. My view was straight through the body of the truck. His view was at an angle, closer to the back of the truck where he’d retrieved the sheet and the camera.

I was never a speed demon, often running faster backward than forward in our college basketball drills. The other girls made fun of me about that, coming in last when we ran ladders normally, coming in first when we ran them backward.

I was never fast, but I was quick.

There’s a difference. It’s what made me a good fast-pitch catcher, snapping the ball into the strike zone before the umpire’s call, able to fake and break against defense in basketball.

“Lie down, now.”

Jonah Bravo and I were facing one another, standing square.

I’d lost too much sleep over the years worrying about our equipment operators accidentally skidding on the smooth rock after material was stripped and down the steep incline off the highwall. And now I wished for it to happen. I assessed if I was really going to attempt this stunt and decided to take a chance, suspecting it very well may be a pistol he was fumbling around for in his pocket. I broke suddenly to my right, sprinting for the passenger door of the pickup, hurling myself through the door. I felt his fingers claw at my calves and ankles as I scrambled across the front seat, releasing the hand brake, throwing the gear into neutral and scrambling out the driver’s side door.

I barely made it out in time as I watched the pickup roll off the edge of the highwall, crashing nose first onto the pit floor below with an earsplitting crunch of metal, settling upside down on its rooftop.

Dr. Jay was sprawled on the limestone ledge, stunned by the sight of his crumpled butcher shop. His eyes were wide and childlike when he turned to gawk at me.

I was sprawled on the limestone ledge nearby, panting and heaving from the adrenaline rush. All I could think was how I’d managed to destroy the killing machine, the high-pressure water that tore flesh and ripped through bone. When I saw the childlike expression on Dr. Jay’s face, I realized I had also just destroyed his mode of transportation, his ticket out of this quarry after he killed me. Oh, and I was sure he would still kill me. He just couldn’t torture me with the water.

And I was okay with that.

But Dr. Jay did something I didn’t expect. He rose to his feet, camera still dangling from his neck, and he started clapping. Slow and steady at first. But he just stood there and clapped. Then he smiled.

A chill skipped its way down my spine. This man really was quite insane.

“Liv Bergen. I’m impressed. You are quite the handful.” He stopped clapping and walked slowly toward me. I flinched when he reached out his hand, thinking he was about to clock me again. But he just stood over me, offering his hand to help me to my feet.

I took it and pulled myself up. He lightly held my arm as if we were walking into a debutante party, guiding me back to the spot where I was instructed to lie down.