Killjoy (21 page)

“Now, tell me again about that money. Would it be fifteen thousand in all?”

“Sure.”

Chrystal squinted at Avery. “And you’re saying all I got to do is make that call?”

“Yes, and will you—”

Chrystal cut her off. She’d glanced at the number on the paper and blurted, “Wait a minute. This here is a long-distance call. Can I reverse the charges?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll do it, but I got to tell you, I still don’t get it. You could use the phone right there,” she said, pointing to the counter. “What’s the catch?”

She didn’t waste time telling Chrystal she couldn’t take the chance the line might be tapped. “You just can’t use this phone. Wait about twenty minutes, then get in your pickup and drive to the nearest phone.”

“Will you pay for the gas?”

Avery felt like screaming. “Yes.”

John Paul had just walked back inside the store when the phone rang. Avery flinched at the sound.

“That’s probably her,” Chrystal said. “We haven’t gotten a single call since we reopened the store this morning, so that’s got to be her. Want me to answer it?”

Avery grabbed the phone and answered on the second ring.

“You were late,” the caller said.

“No, we weren’t. We were right on time. The woman you left the package with was using the phone when we arrived.”

“Yes, she was.”

Avery then knew she had been monitoring the line. Thank God she hadn’t tried to call Margo.

“Did you get the directions to where you’re going?”

“Yes. I want to talk to Carrie.”

“No, that isn’t possible.”

“Then how do I know she’s still alive?”

“Carrie is alive . . . for now anyway. It’s up to you to keep her and her friends that way, isn’t it?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“No more questions,” she hissed. “Or I’ll hang up the phone right now. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re on a lovely treasure hunt, and you’re winning points as you move along. The prize is Carrie. You do want to see her again, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.” She laughed. “You’re so eager to please. You’d better hurry, Avery.”

“How long—”

“Hurry now.”

The woman disconnected the call. Avery’s heart was pounding. She put the phone down as Chrystal asked, “Was it her?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Chrystal, describe her to me.”

“You mean you want to know what she looked like?”

“Yes.”

“She was older than you, but not as old as me, and not as heavy as me. Kenny?” she shouted, “How old would you say that woman was?”

Kenny walked inside. He scratched his stubbly jaw while he considered his answer. “I don’t know. Never could judge a person’s age real good. She sure was a looker, though.”

Chrystal nodded. “Had yellow-colored hair, and it’s kind of funny really, you askin’ me what she looked like.”

“Why?” Avery asked.

“Well . . . ’cause . . .” Chrystal shrugged. “She kinda looked like you.”

Chapter 15

C
HRYSTAL TOLD
K
ENNY THEY WOULD RECEIVE A BIG
REWARD
if he drove to town and made a call for Avery. Kenny didn’t believe his wife, and he didn’t want to do it. Avery thought it might be because his nose had started bleeding again.

Unlike Avery, John Paul wasn’t interested in trying to coax them into cooperating, because he understood how their twisted pea-sized brains worked. He had had enough of the Bonnie-and-Clod pair. He shoved Kenny into the wall and calmly told him that he would hunt him down and skin him alive if he didn’t do what Avery asked. Simple as that. Kenny believed him, and so did Chrystal. The look in John Paul’s eyes indicated he wasn’t the type of man to make idle threats.

Chrystal jumped back when John Paul walked past. She knocked the phone off the counter and quickly picked it up. Instinctively putting the receiver to her ear to make sure no one else was on the line, she hung up and said to Kenny, “The phone isn’t workin’.”

“Are you sayin’ the line’s dead?” Kenny gasped the question, still trying to recover his breath.

“Didn’t I just say it was broke?”

“She did it,” Kenny decided, glaring at Avery. “She must have broke it after she finished talkin’ to that woman and hung up. You saw her slam it down, didn’t you, Chrystal? You’re gonna have to pay for repairs,” he told Avery.

Avery picked up the phone to see if Chrystal was telling the truth. The line was dead. That was quick, she thought. They must have been ready.

John Paul stood by the door waiting to get Avery’s attention. “Avery . . .”

“Just a minute.” She walked over to the teenagers sprawled out on the floor. Two of them were curled up like cats, sound asleep, but the droopy-eyed boy named Mark was still sitting upright and watching her every move with the stupid grin still plastered on his freckled face.

“Who’s the driver?”

“Huh?”

She nudged his foot. “Who’s driving the car?”

“Me.”

“Give me the car keys.”

The grin didn’t falter. “I don’t have to,” he slurred even as he dug into his pocket and pulled out his key ring. He dangled the keys in front of his face. Then he giggled.

She snatched the keys out of his hand and tossed them on the counter. “Chrystal, you make sure those boys don’t get into that car. You understand?”

“I’m not gonna be a baby-sitter. You expect me to stand here and watch them?”

“Make them sleep outside, but don’t give them the keys.” She turned to leave, but John Paul raised his hand for her to stop.

“More customers,” he said. He glanced out the window and watched two older women, dressed in hiking clothes, get out of a Ford. He pushed Avery’s hand away from the doorknob. “You’re not going with me.”

“Oh, yes, I am,” she insisted.

“Listen to me,” he ordered. “You go back to town with those women and get to a police station. Keep the gun just in case.”

“While you go ahead to Coward’s Crossing?”

“Yes. If I can get there quick, I might be able to find a good spot to ambush him.”

She shook her head. “If you kill him, we won’t be able to find Carrie and the others.”

“The woman knows where they are.”

“She’ll disappear, and you know it. It’s too risky. Besides, if Monk or the woman finds out I’m not with you—”

“They won’t know.”

“You have to take me with you.”

“No. It’s too dangerous for you, and you’ll slow me down.”

“Then I’m going to follow you. Kenny gave both of us the directions. I can find Coward’s Crossing. I’ll take the teenagers’ car. Simple as that, John Paul.” She poked him in his chest. “You need me to get him. Now get out of my way.”

He didn’t want to waste any more time arguing. He decided he’d have to find a place to dump her on the way. Someplace safe. Yeah, that’s what he would do.

He opened the door. “You stay close,” he whispered as he stepped back so the gray-haired women could come inside.

The ladies walked right past the teenagers and didn’t seem to notice them when they headed for the facilities, as Kenny so quaintly called the bathroom.

Avery turned back to Chrystal, who, at this point, was the more agreeable of the two. “How long do you think it will take to get to Coward’s Crossing?”

“You aren’t gonna make it before nightfall,” Chrystal answered. “What with all the rain, those little roads got all washed out.”

John Paul was opening the door but paused when Kenny shouted, “Hey, wait a minute. You ain’t gonna take my gun, are you? I’ve got to have something for protection, being out here with just the missus.”

“Let it go, Kenny,” Chrystal said. “George never got a permit for that thing.”

Kenny’s face turned red. “Why’d you have to open your big mouth and bring that up?”

“She would have wanted to see it,” Chrystal argued. “They always do.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“FBI.” She pronounced each letter as though it were a profanity.

“What?” Kenny screeched. “You’re saying that gal’s FBI?” His eyes bulged at the news.

Mark groaned. “Ah, man, we’re gonna get busted.”

Ignoring the drunk, John Paul closed the door in Avery’s face and asked softly, “You’re an FBI agent?”

Uh-oh. One quick glance at his expression, and she inwardly cringed. He looked so offended that she didn’t think it would be a good idea to explain it all to him now. Maybe later, she thought, when he was asleep.

“Answer me,” he demanded. “Are you an FBI agent?”

He wasn’t going to budge until she responded. She swallowed, then whispered, “Sort of.”

Then Chrystal, who, Avery decided, really did have a big mouth, said, “She told me she left her ID in the car, but she’d go get it if I wanted to see it.”

“I’m leaving,” Avery announced. She used every ounce of strength she possessed to push John Paul out of her way so she could get out the door.

He didn’t move an inch. “We’ll be talking about this later.”

She waited until he stepped back, then brushed past him. Childishly wanting to have the last word, she muttered, “No, we won’t.”

The SUV fantailed out of the lot onto the dirt road when John Paul floored it, the tires spitting up pebbles and dirt clumps. He headed toward the river and was driving like a lunatic.

“Slow down,” she ordered.

He eased up on the pedal while Avery went over the directions. “I should have asked Chrystal to give me a guess as to how many miles Coward’s Crossing was from the store.”

“We’re going to be hiking,” he said.

“I’ll keep up with whatever pace you set.”

“We’ll see. Tell me, what did the woman on the phone say?”

She repeated the conversation and added, “I demanded to talk to Carrie, but she said that wasn’t possible.”

He shook his head. “And yet you
still
believe your aunt’s alive?”

“Yes, I do. I think the woman wants to keep Carrie around . . . for a little longer anyway.” She didn’t have a valid reason for why she felt that way. Maybe it was just desperate hope on her part. “You know what I don’t understand?”

“What?”

“Why are they going to so much trouble if they want to kill me? Why make it complicated? There was ample opportunity to ambush me on the way to the spa, before you were even involved. It would have been so much simpler.” She slapped her forehead. “Of course. They didn’t know I was going to drive to the spa. When I missed my flight, they had to improvise. You were another complication. You were hanging around the spa asking questions. Now it makes sense.”

She shook her head. She must be tired. It took so long for her to figure it out. She closed her eyes for a moment and thought about the phone call again.

“The woman . . . she’s having fun.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I could hear it in her voice. She was excited, even when she was hissing at me and calling me stupid. She doesn’t want this to be over too soon. She wants to drag it out.” She thought it over for a long minute and then said, “She likes giving orders, and as long as we play her little game, or treasure hunt, as she called it, she might prolong it even more.”

He drove as fast as the dirt roads would allow while she gave him directions. Avery kept replaying the conversation in her mind, analyzing what little data she had. It was so frustrating.

John Paul interrupted her. “Okay, Avery. It’s later.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said it’s later, and we’re going to talk about it now. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were an FBI agent?”

“You made it very apparent you didn’t particularly like the Bureau.”

“Yeah? When did I do that?”

“When we were in the manager’s office at Utopia, you called your friend Noah. I heard you tell him to bring in the troops.”

“And?”

“And then you told me they’d mess up the investigation. When I pressed you on your attitude, you became quite hostile. Besides . . .” She could feel herself blushing. “I’m not really an agent, not yet anyway.”

He slowed the car. “Yeah? Then why are you telling people you are?” He shook his head and said, “Who in his right mind would want to impersonate an FBI agent?”

Avery hated being put on the defensive. God, he was such an obstinate, opinionated jerk. “I don’t usually tell people I’m an agent. I just told Chrystal, in hopes of gaining her cooperation. Unlike you,” she added, “I don’t use coercion and brute force to get what I want.”

John Paul ignored the criticism of his tactics. Why fix what wasn’t broken? Brute force had always worked. “I do what I’m good at doing. That’s my motto.”

“Watch out,” she warned as he turned the corner and nearly ran into a deer. John Paul hit the brakes and swerved off the road, narrowly avoiding the animal. The car rocked and bounced but held the ground.

It was too dangerous to try to maintain a high speed. He slowed the car and said, “Chrystal’s right. We aren’t going to make it before nightfall.”

“Think positive.”

“Why?” He sounded genuinely perplexed.

“Maybe we’ll get a decent road soon,” she said.

They drove around another sharp curve. Down below to the west was a road that looked well traveled. He decided to go for it.

“Hang on,” he said as they started down the hill. The slope was steep, and he had to be mindful of jagged rocks.

Avery flattened her hands against the seat as they bounced along.

“So,” he said, “were you lying about having a badge?”

“I have credentials in my backpack.”

“But you’re not an agent?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell are you doing with credentials?”

“I do work for the Bureau. I’m just not a field agent.”

“That’s good.”

“Why? Because you hate the Bureau?”

“No, because you’re not any good at it.”

“How would you know what I’m good at?” she said. Lord, he was irritating. Every time he opened his mouth, he said something that rubbed her the wrong way. No man had ever been able to get under her skin the way John Paul did.

“You don’t have the instincts,” he said. “And before you get all hot and bothered and argue, answer a question for me, and be honest.”

She folded her arms and frowned at him. “What?”

“Did you anticipate that Kenny might have a loaded weapon under that counter? Did you even for a split second consider the possibility?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

“I haven’t been trained to be a field agent. I didn’t go through the academy.”

“That’s no excuse. You’ve either got it, or you don’t. You’ve got some good moves,” he added. “The way you kick-boxed that kid was impressive. But you’d still make a lousy field agent.”

She refused to comment on his assessment.

“What exactly do you do for the Bureau?” he asked.

John Paul could see the blush was coming back. She was either embarrassed or so mad at him her face was turning a fire red. She sure was pretty. Ah, hell, where had that come from? He had no business thinking about such things, especially now that he knew she represented everything he detested.

“I type,” she said. She heard how defensive she sounded and quickly added, “There isn’t anything wrong with being a typist.”

“I didn’t say there was.”

“I’m part of a very important team.”

“Ah, jeez.”

“What?”

“You bought it all, didn’t you? A team player. You’re probably a damn liberal too, aren’t you?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” she said. “And I’m certainly not ashamed of being a typist . . . it’s an honorable job, after all.”

“Okay.”

“Quit being so condescending. I wasn’t hired to be a typist, but that’s what I pretty much do anyway, all day, every day. I transfer information into the database. Now, can we let the matter drop?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

He seemed preoccupied now. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“This is a good road. Maybe we will get close to Coward’s Crossing before it gets dark. We’ll hike a couple of miles, find a secluded spot for you to hide, and then I can—”

That was as far as she’d let him get. “Not gonna happen,” she said. “I’ll tell you what. You drop me off, find another good road, and with any luck, you can make it back to Aspen before dark.”

“And why would I want to drive back to Aspen?”

“I’ve been thinking . . .”

“Uh-oh.”

She ignored the insult. “I think you should get out while you still can. You can tell the FBI where I’m going.”

He blinked. “You’re kidding. Right?”

She began to fold and unfold her hands. “No, I’m serious. What can they do if you leave? Nothing,” she said, answering her own question. “Frankly, you don’t need to be involved. You said it yourself. They want me, not you. Besides, you called Noah, and he’s FBI. I’m sure he’s alerted the local team, and they’re most certainly on their way. When you get to a phone, you can call him again, and tell him exactly where I’m headed.”

“I’ve got an opportunity to get Monk, and you think I’m gonna . . .” He was so angry he was sputtering. He shook his head. “Let me get this straight. You really believe I’ll drop you off in the middle of nowhere and take off?”

“Wasn’t that your plan?”