The Killer Trail (21 page)
“So how much is Ray paying you to collect his phone?”
“I don't work for Owens. This goes way higher than that fuckhead.”
Chris was confused. “I know you're working with Ray. You're all working together, and you're all going to go down together.”
“You got it all backwards, Ryder,” Len laughed again. “You don't even know how fucked you are.”
Chris frowned. He'd figured all along that Ray was in charge. But if he wasn't, then who was? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunshots echoing in the distance and he guessed they were originating from the park entrance.
Please, God, let it be Brandon and the RCMP
.
“I'm losing my patience here, Ryder. Quit stalling. Throw me the phone and we'll both walk away.” Len sounded nervous now.
Fearing Len was planning to barge into the cabin, Chris steadied his rifle and started to shout out to Elizabeth to prepare for his attack but it was too late. Len kicked open the door and shot blindly into the dark interior. For a split second, he stood in the doorway, looking to identify his target in the darkness. It was a split second too long. Chris squeezed the trigger, sending a thunderous blast from the rifle. The impact knocked Len off his feet before dropping him hard on his back.
Chris was in shock. He was sure that Len was dead, when to his relief, Len started writhing in agony, clutching his bloody right shoulder.
“I'm going to fucking kill you!” He clutched his shoulder while feebly reaching for his rifle.
Kicking the rifle away from Len's groping hand, Chris made a threat of his own. “Move another inch and it'll be your last.” He needed more rope and found some in Pierce's bag. He wrapped it tightly around Len's body, then dragged Len over to lie next to Pierce.
Chris looked at Elizabeth to make sure she was okay. She was still huddled in the far corner of the cabin, her body trembling in fear. “It's going to be okay now, Elizabeth. Help is on the way.” He gave her a supportive smile.
“You're never going to make it out of here alive, Ryder. He'll never let you,” Len sneered at Chris.
“Who is this mystery man you keep raving about?” Chris had assumed all along that Ray Owens was the mastermind behind the operation. The thought that Ray was merely a bit player in a larger scheme was unsettling.
“You'll find out soon enough.” Len again tried to wriggle free and grimaced in pain with the pressure his efforts placed on his injured shoulder.
“You're right about that one, Len.” Chris reached into his pocket, took out the cell phone, and waved it at the bound man. “And
this
will tell me all I need to know about whoever
he
is.”
Chris was jolted back to the moment by the sound of a person coming towards the cabin. He reached for the rifle, bracing for another attack. “Who's out there?” he yelled, hoping his angry tone did not betray his fear.
“Is that you, Chris?” Sergeant Ryan called.
“Yes. And Elizabeth Carrier's here with me. And two of Ray's men.”
“Is the area secure?”
“Yeah, it's under control.” Chris kicked the shattered door off its hinges.
Sergeant Ryan walked into the cabin, assessing the scene before him. He took in Pierce and Len, bloodied and bound, and then Elizabeth, still cowering against the wall, before looking back at Chris, who still held the rifle in his hand.
“I had no choice, Brandon. I had to shoot.”
“It looks like you did what you had to do. Good job.”
Chris reached into his jacket pocket, retrieved the cell phone, and gave it to Brandon, who stared at it for a moment before commenting, “So this is what all the fuss has been about.”
He pulled out his handheld radio and called for an ambulance, giving directions to the cabin. When he was done, he looked at Elizabeth. “It's all over now. You're going to be okay. More police and an ambulance will be here very soon.” Then he took Chris aside. “We picked up another suspect at the entrance to the park. And by the way, you did great work here.” He lowered his voice so that he could not be overheard. “But you know we didn't exactly do this by the book. The shit's gonna hit the fan for both of us.”
Chris nodded and told Brandon what Len had intimated about Ray having only a minor role in James Carrier's murder and Elizabeth's abduction. “I just don't know who is behind all of this, if it isn't Ray,” he said in frustration.
“Yes, but that's where the cell phone comes in. You'd be amazed at how much data we can get from it.” Then, walking Chris over to Elizabeth, Brandon took out a notepad and starting asking Elizabeth questions about her abduction.
Within twenty minutes, a horde of police officers and medical personnel on ATVs assembled on the scene. The police cordoned off the area, setting up spotlights around the perimeter of the cabin, which signaled to Chris they would be working well into the night. Pierce Hennessy was handcuffed and taken into custody. Paramedics assessed Elizabeth and Len, then strapped them to modified stretchers attached to separate ATVs that would take them to a waiting ambulance at the park entrance.
At Elizabeth's side, Chris watched the vulnerable young woman. She somehow reminded him of his own daughter, but he quickly pushed away thoughts of Ann Marie being kidnapped. He could only imagine the trauma Elizabeth had been subjected to, and now she would be returning to a world without her father.
As if she had been reading his thoughts, Elizabeth called for Chris to come closer. He leaned down over her stretcher to hear her weak voice. “Thank you.” Her eyes were wet, and he could feel his own starting to tear up. He wished there was more he could do or say, but instead simply replied, “I'm so sorry, Elizabeth.” She was driven away by the paramedics and a police escort, and he continued to watch in somber silence until she was out of sight.
An RCMP officer approached him. “Mr. Ryder, we'd like you to clear up a few details, including your association with Sergeant Ryan.” He proceeded to question Chris, while Brandon stood silently by his side in what Chris welcomed as a sign of solidarity and support.
It was more than a few details, and darkness had fallen before Chris was given the okay to leave Woodland Park. Brandon offered to give him a ride back to the parking lot entrance. Chris shivered, and not just from the cold, as the ATV headlights bobbed up and down, casting ghostly shadows as they reflected off trees and the ground beneath them. Nearing the park entrance, he glanced behind him to take in the park one final time. He had loved these trails. Running them had made him feel alive. But after the death and violence he had been part of over the past few days, he knew he would not be coming back. Still, he felt relief in having conquered his fears and surviving this trail. His thoughts turned to Ray Owens.
I
am
out of the woods, Rayâyou bastard.
Chris and Brandon reached the Woodland Park entrance, only to find the parking lot transformed into a media carnival. Blinding lights illuminated the entire area, and several media trucks filled the lot and clogged the highway over to the convenience store across the way. Chris was swarmed by a throng of reporters, many of whom he recognized from the local TV stations and the
Sun
. They jostled with each other in a frenetic scrum, while cameras flashed incessantly.
“Is it true you saved Elizabeth Carrier's life? Are these men connected with James Carrier's murder? Did Ray Owens lead you to Elizabeth? Can you comment on...” As microphones jabbed at his face, Chris felt like the main course at a wildlife preserve.
Brandon did his best to shield them both, repeating “No comment” as he elbowed his way, Chris in his wake, through the mob of reporters until they were safely inside his unmarked car. “You're a hero now, Chris. You can expect this kind of reception for the next while.”
Chris was speechless, overwhelmed by fatigue and sensory overload. Brandon insisted on driving him home, mumbling appropriately encouraging words in between answering incoming calls on his radio.
When they finally reached his apartment building, Chris thanked Brandon and agreed to talk the following morning. Inside his apartment, he kicked off his shoes, shed his wet and dirty clothes, and collapsed into his bed. Tonight, sleep came quickly.
Sunday, February 19, 2:04 a.m.
Ray awoke with a start from a dream. High in the sky, an eagle was circling, waiting for the perfect moment to attack an unsuspecting and unprotected fawn. Ray knew psychologists would have a field day analyzing his dreams. No doubt they'd say the fawn represented him and somehow they'd try to link the dream to his unresolved feelings of abandonment as a child. He'd heard it all before. He gritted his teeth and scowled. The very thought of people prying into his personal life pissed him off.
His thoughts turned to Chris Ryder. Ray decided to do his own dream analysis, this time featuring himself as the eagle going after his prey. He hoped his elimination of Chris as a threat would finally bring him the peace of mind that had eluded him.
I'm coming for you, Ryder. You're not out of the
woods yet.
Sunday, February 19, 10:34 a.m.
Chris was awakened by sunlight streaming through his blinds. He had slept soundly through the night and well into the morning, oblivious to the fact that his phone had been ringing all morning. A drowsy glance at the alarm clock told him it was past ten-thirty. He scanned his cluttered bedroom but couldn't see the phone. He tottered out of bed in search of it, found it, and saw he had several messages.
He opened his door and picked up the morning's
Sun,
only to stare in amazement at the front-page picture of himself and Sergeant Ryan. The headline read: “Social Worker Saves Elizabeth Carrier
.” Jesus, Florence is going to have a fit.
He frantically read the story, which not only identified him by name but also said that he worked at the Institute of Forensic Psychiatry.
The story described the events at Woodland Park that had culminated in the rescue of the young woman confirmed by the RCMP to be Elizabeth Carrier. The article said she had been reported missing several days before, and included a police statement that several persons of interest had been arrested in connection with her disappearance. An RCMP spokesman was quoted as saying that they would not divulge additional information, as the investigation was ongoing. A sidebar discussed the earlier discovery of two bodies at Woodland Park, including that of Elizabeth's father James, and the subsequent arrest of Ray Owens in connection with that investigation. Then came the part of the story that Chris dreadedâthe report that Ray Owens had been admitted to the Institute of Forensic Psychiatry, where Chris Ryder was employed. There was no mistaking the
Sun
's intent of associating Ray Owens with both James Carrier's murder and Elizabeth Carrier's abduction.
Chris stood motionless, staring down at the picture of himself, taken during last night's scrum in the Woodland Park parking lot. He felt sick realizing why he had so many messages waiting for him. He picked up the phone, settled onto the couch, and started playing them.
The first was from a worried-sounding Stephanie, who pleaded with him to return her call ASAP. The next call was from Deanna expressing similar concern. A third message was from a reporter from the CBC asking for an interview.
What the...?
Chris exploded. His telephone and address were unlisted, and he was dismayedâand furiousâthat he'd been so easy to track down. Not surprisingly, he also had a message from his manager ordering him to call him at home. He was about to contact David when the phone rang again. It was Sergeant Ryan. “Seen the news today? You're a hero.”
“Depends on who you talk to, Brandon. My boss doesn't sound too happy.”
“No, neither is mine. Unfortunately, that's why I'm calling.”
Chris was alarmed. “Do you need me to come down to the station?”