River of No Return : A Jake Trent Novel (9781451698053) (27 page)

53

IDAHO FALLS, IDAHO. OCTOBER 30.

8:15 A.M. MOUNTAIN STANDARD TIME.

“We'll split up and go look by the reservoir.” Wright was pouring copious amounts of sugar into his coffee.

“Good plan.”

Jake had met the assistant director at the diner near the industrial park, where Senator Canart's body still lay.

“What do we do about him?”

“Leave him for now. We have more important things to do.”

A senator
left rotting in his own office,
Jake thought.
Not good publicity
for the CIA, but if anyone can hide the truth,
it's the agency.

In the bathroom, Jake surreptitiously read another text from Divya. Her flight had been delayed in Salt Lake, so she rented a car and was navigating through the snow on what was usually a four-hour drive.

Of course, Jake didn't reveal that to Wright. He hadn't revealed anything that Divya or Schue told him. He could tell Wright was on edge and wondered whether it was normal work stress or something else.

And Divya's suspicion?
What had she come across?

He figured Wright needed him for the search. As long as that was the case, he posed little danger to Jake. If and when they found Meirong, that dynamic could change, if Divya was right.

They drove toward Ririe Reservoir separately, which suited Jake just fine. The lake was another two miles beyond where Meirong had escaped. The landscape was wide-open and the visibility ­reasonable—high storm clouds were still hanging in the hills, but the snowfall was sputtering out.

They found no trace of their target between the parking pull-off near the promontory and the state park at the reservoir. It was feasible that Meirong had broken into one of the park's summer cabins to stay warm. Without a coat or shelter, she didn't stand much chance.

Jake pulled over at the boundary to the park and lowered his window. Wright pulled up alongside in his rental Jeep.

“I'll drive the east loop,” Jake said. “The west loop is just through there. Meet back here?”

Wright nodded and spun around to enter the west loop, in the direction of tent campsites and the visitor center. Jake headed toward the summer cabins.

The blank canvas of snow was marred by occasional animal tracks—mule deer, mainly—a few of which Jake stopped to inspect in case they proved to be shoe prints. No dice.

Cabins dotted the east loop, where the road formed a ring and came back onto itself. The austere cedar lodgings looked spartan
even from outside. They had been winterized—inch-thick plywood was nailed over the windows and doors. It would take quite a bit of muscle to remove the barriers. Not an easy task for most people, much less a petite woman.

Still, Jake made the circle slowly, inspecting each small building for any sign of an overnight occupant. In the middle of the oval, a dim light shone on the side of the restrooms. No barriers blocked the doors.

Jake killed the engine and got out, tucking the Mariner into the back of his waistband. He followed the snow-covered path from the road to the concrete building. He didn't notice any tracks, but given the wind and precipitation that meant little.

On the front of the restroom, between the men's and women's doors, hung a park bulletin:
ATTENTION
ICE FISHERMEN: DO NOT CLEAN YOUR CATCH IN THE RESTROOMS
.

The bathroom was open for the winter.

Jake reached for the door to the ladies' room. He entered to find a nestlike pile of unspooled toilet paper beneath the hand dryer. A bed?

Leaving the bathroom, Jake looked more closely for tracks and found slight indentations covered with fresh snow leading through the cluster of cabins. Two sets. Coming and going. He followed them until the path of the traveler was apparent. Back toward the main entrance and the intersection of the east and west loops.

Jake jogged back to the Charger and drove to the meeting point. Wright wasn't there. He looked around for Meirong. Finding no sign of her, he parked and waited.

A few minutes passed. Anxious, he started the engine and steered the Charger onto the two-mile west loop, where Wright had been searching.

He found the Jeep, running and with its driver's-side door open, parked in tent site 132. The sites were surrounded with dense grand firs, and beneath them was a layer of willowy brush.

Jake could see Wright's tracks leading from the Jeep into the quagmire of vegetation.

What the hell?
He parked the Charger, Glock in hand. He heard the crunch of frozen twigs near Wright's entry point into the forest.

“Wright!” Jake yelled. The noise subsided.

Jake was thirty yards from the Jeep. A burst of motion flew from the shady trees. Someone running through the snow. A woman. Meirong.

“Stop!” Jake shouted louder this time, hoping to frighten her. Instead she moved faster—into the Jeep, slamming the door as he closed in on her. She nearly ran him over backing up. In the mirror, Jake glimpsed her horrified eyes before she slammed the Jeep into drive and sped off.

Where was Wright? Jake had no time to stop and search for him. With a vehicle, Meirong would become considerably harder to track.

Jake ran back to the Charger. He fishtailed through the campground's S-turn and slid onto Ririe Road.

Meirong had a good lead—an eighth of a mile or more. She pushed the Jeep to its limit as she descended toward the highway. Jake matched her on the narrow, frozen road.

Near the intersection, the snow was changing to slush. Meirong took a right, almost colliding with an eighteen-wheeler, and sped east toward the laboratory.

* * *

As he had expected, Wright's rental Jeep was parked at the laboratory. Jake drove the Charger into a space but didn't get out. He watched through the slats of the blinds, where he could see Meirong rushing about. She was aware of Jake following her, but it didn't matter. She had nowhere else to go.

The gun that killed the senator was safely in the trunk of the Charger. It was possible that Meirong had another weapon somewhere inside, or the shotgun that killed the janitor at Game and Fish, and given her acumen with firearms—now having killed two men, the senator and the janitor—Jake didn't want to risk an up-close encounter.

It was senseless for him to go into the building anyway. His target was isolated, and Divya was on her way.

Whether Divya could be fully trusted was another question. Jake had no idea where anyone's allegiances lay, except his own.
Charlotte Terrell. Esma.

Shit.
Meirong had been looking for a way to communicate, not a weapon. She pushed aside the blinds and held up a newspaper, marked up with black Sharpie in block print.
LEAVE ME ALONE OR I WILL KILL ESMA
.

He started to get out of the car to plead with her, but she retreated from the window.

Goddammit.

Jake dialed the hospital. He discovered it was Dr. Antol's day off. Jake did his best to impress the gravity of the situation on the new attending doctor, but the man didn't buy it.
Jake demanded Dr. Antol's home number.

“You know I can't do that.”

Jake tried to explain, told the young doctor about the chip, the Chinese, and the kidnapping in Idaho. The details didn't have the desired effect of persuasion.

“I'll keep a close watch on her, like all patients” was all he would promise.

Jake hung up.

Deputy Statler
. His next-best bet.

“Jake, where have you been? I've been trying to reach you.”

“I can't really say. But I need your help.”

“What's going on? Is Charlotte safe?”

“I'm working on that. I need a favor.”

Where he failed with the doctor, Jake succeeded with Layle.

He remembered Meirong reaching to her left shoulder when she explained the device. “It's above Esma's heart somewhere. Left clavicle.”

“A month ago, if I'd heard that story, I would have said you're crazy. But I believe you.”

“Go to the hospital now and help Esma. Don't take no for an answer.”

54

OUTSIDE IDAHO FALLS. OCTOBER 30.

11:45 A.M. MOUNTAIN STANDARD TIME.

The storm had moved east, over the Tetons, and the sun was out by the time Divya arrived at the laboratory. She looked severe in black twill dress pants and a heavy peacoat with oversized Tom Ford sunglasses.

“Where's Wright?” she said instead of greeting him.

Jake gave her a play-by-play of Meirong's escape and Wright's disappearance. “My guess is he's still up by the reservoir, looking to hitch a ride out.”

“He's got some history with Xiao, Jake. Going back a ways. They
know
each other.”

“In what capacity?”

“I don't know yet.”

“Jesus.”

Jake apprised Divya of the situation with Esma.

“I'm sorry, Jake. I had no idea what we were getting into.”

To Jake, she sounded sincere. But all that stuff would have to wait. His priority remained the safety of the two imperiled women, Charlotte and Esma.

“What's the plan?” Divya asked.

“I'm hoping the deputy can persuade the doctor to open Esma up and remove the chip. It was the best I could do.”

“You're sure Meirong's not bluffing about the implant?” Divya asked.

“I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt.”

He glanced toward the window. Meirong was peering at them through the blinds.

“Look.” Jake pointed.

“What's she doing?”

“I don't know.” Jake felt useless. Was she tinkering with whatever device controlled Esma's fate? Moreover, how had Divya's phone call a week earlier led to this chaos? Now the lives of two good people were in his hands, and he had little notion of whom to trust.

Meirong moved to the desk, where she appeared to be writing something again. When she finished, she brought the newspaper to the window and held it up for Jake and Divya to see. Jake walked through the sopping snow toward the window, until Meirong shook her head and waved him off.

He returned to Divya's side, near the concrete abutment where he'd sought cover from the firefight the night before.

“What does it say?” she asked.

“Ten minutes.”

“Damn.”

“We need to get out of her view for the time being. Keep watch, but from farther out. If she knows we're still around, she'll kill Esma.”

Divya nodded. “Disable the Jeep?”

“No. Not worth it.”

It was an unnerving balance; an innocent woman's life lay on each side of the scale.

* * *

Jake and Divya left the parking lot separately and crossed the highway, where they parked Divya's rental and regrouped in the Charger. A service road continued up a gentle grade to a potato farm.

“We can see the intersection from here, and she won't be able to see us.”

Divya didn't seem convinced. “What if she goes the other way?”

“There's nothing there but the river.”

Jake took the Steiner binoculars from the car, but there was no clear view of the building itself. A cluster of tall cottonwoods blocked his view. He took out his phone and checked for a voice mail or text from Layle. Nothing.

He was desperate to know that Esma was okay, that the chip had been removed and the threat was gone. When that happened, he could pursue Meirong without hesitation. And get Charlotte home to her family, where she belonged.

“You okay?”

Jake realized his hands were shaking. He tossed the binoculars to the backseat and grabbed another layer.

“Why did you involve me?” He didn't make eye contact with her. He was watching the intersection. The wind gusted against their backs. Divya's long, dark hair blew out from her collar and swam in the wind.

“Wright asked me to.”

“Why didn't the Office come to me first?”

“He was skeptical of their plans. Now we know why—he's got other plans.”

“You could've said no. You didn't have to lie.”

“Hindsight . . .” Another gust toyed with Divya's silky hair.

Jake made eye contact. Her face was flushed, maybe from the cold breeze.

“I needed you.” She blurted it out, trying to get it over with—throw it into the wind, where it would go away. “This job. The agency. It's so bursting with deceit.”

Jake understood.

“And you were always . . .” She stopped. “You know. It seemed like you always had direction. The proverbial moral compass.”

Jake stared at the highway intersection.

“Jake?” Divya put her hand on his arm.

“Hold on. What's that?” He pointed.

An old cherry-red pickup was slowing down. It pulled onto the shoulder and deposited a well-dressed man. Jake grabbed the Steiners, his hands as steady as rocks now.

“It's Wright.”

Jake got into the driver's seat and floored it down the dirt road, taking the car's suspension to its limit. The Charger slid out onto the highway. Jake corrected the wheel slightly to the left, and then accelerated to the right onto Heise Road.

Jake slowed down and looked for Wright. He was already around the corner of the building, on the side where Meirong had been positioned at the window.

“No!” Jake shouted in futility.

Wright was up against the window with his gun drawn, shouting orders at Meirong, who had retreated behind the deceased senator's desk.

“Wright! Back off!” Jake rushed the assistant director, who outmatched him physically. He pushed Jake aside.

“Leave her alone!” Jake yelled.

“She's locked herself in. We need to break it down.”

“Listen, she's not stable. All she wants is to be free of all the chaos. Live her life without being used and betrayed. We have to make her feel comfortable, at least until everyone is safe.”

Wright's face was all confusion. He turned and started to tell Jake to back off, but spun back to the window as Meirong started pounding her fist on the glass.

She was holding the newspaper again. Black Sharpie.
1 MIN. ESMA
.

“We have to go. She's going to kill someone with the chip. Innocent lives are in her hands.”

Wright wasn't affected by this.

Jake tried another angle. “There's only so much that can be swept under the carpet. If she kills again, this whole thing blows up—there will be no containing it. This will all get out. Including what your role is.”

“Back up, Trent. You don't know what you're doing.”

Through the window, Jake saw Meirong take a seat at the desk. She reached for the keyboard. Jake went for the Mariner. It was in the Charger.

Jake slammed into the glass with his elbow to break it, but Wright grabbed him by the shoulder and sent him crashing to the ground. When Jake tried to stand he was met with a hard pistol whip to the nose.

The world started to dim, but Jake fought off the darkness. He clutched at Divya, now by his side.

Meirong was standing again, away from the computer. She'd
done it. When Jake looked at her she showed no remorse. She started scrawling on a piece of newspaper again.

THERE ARE MORE. 5 MINS.

Jake wiped away the blood from his face with his sleeve.

“What does she mean?” Wright asked.

“He told you!” Divya said, helping Jake.

Jake packed a handful of melting snow and held it against his broken nose.

As the snow reddened, he took out his phone.

J.P. hadn't called yet, but Jake knew it was coming.