The little Japanese stood next to her, awaiting her reaction. She swung the barrel, but with blinding speed, his hand caught it. His other hand took her shoulder and severe pain shot down her left arm.
With her right she reached for her hand gun. A hard kick to the inside of her upper right arm brought a scream to her lips and immobilized the arm.
"Go," he said. "Or I will kill you."
Spooked out of her mind, she let him take the rifle as if she were a child. She scrambled up the cliff and never looked back.
The shooter, unaccountably, had disappeared. Shane was combing the area and finding nothing.
"You're an idiot," Maria said with a bone-tired smile.
"I know."
Crying, she kissed him full on the lips.
"Let's get out of here," he said.
Kenji Yamada was more than worried. Groiter wasn't answering his cell phone. Groiter had called him when they brought in Maria Fischer, just to reassure him. They should have finished with her by now. Something had to have gone wrong. But Groiter was experienced, and he had the Spaniard, who was equally deadly.
Kenji was certain that Groiter had proof concerning Catherine Swanson. He also had the photographer's remains. If something happened to Groiter, Kenji could be the victim of leaked evidence to the police. He had two men in San Francisco he could trust. There were two more at the forest compound that he would need to trust. He would dispatch all four men to learn what happened at Jack Morgan's.
At the emergency room there was no wait because the sheriff was personally involved. There was an awkward moment when Maria was ushered into the treatment room.
"Dan, you and Dad stay in the waiting room while Mom comes with me," Maria said. "I'm really all right and I'm sure I'll be right back out."
Dan wondered why he hadn't remained in the waiting room in the first place. He was with Maria, but he had no status. Any minute Ross could show up-he was supposedly just a friend now, but he didn't seem quite content with his new status.
''Dan, go in and sit with Maria for a while," Laura Fischer said. "She'd like that."
Amiel winked at him.
"Sure," Dan said. "I'd love to." They buzzed him into the treatment area.
"Maria Fischer, please," he said to the nurse. She pointed the way, and when he entered the room, he was greeted by a bruised face and a big smile. She was lying on a gurney in a curtained-off area with a hospital gown, a blanket, bandaged wrists, and an IV.
"Quite a shiner," he said.
"Yes. It hurts but nothing is broken, I'm sure. How's Nate?"
"Great. Worried about you. Wants to see you."
"I'm sure we can arrange that."
"I want to know who's behind all this, once and for all," he said.
''We will. There was a woman. The same woman, I think. She's nuts, and I think she's associated with the environmental movement."
"How could someone like that be connected with Amada?"
"That's what we've got to figure out. And we will. But I need a little time out from that subject."
"Oh?" He wondered what could possibly be more important or interesting.
"Before I left with Nate, I really and finally broke up with Ross. I thought you should know. I don't want you to feel like you need to say anything. It's a little embarrassing telling you this way."
"Maybe it was just comfortable, having that… I don't know what."
"I know exactly what you mean. And we still have that something in a way. But you're the industry and I'm the environment, so don't go getting all weird on me."
Once again they found themselves seated in the well-designed conference-room chairs as a guest of Sheriff Robert McNiel. This time they waited no time at all. He entered the room still talking to someone through the doorway. For some reason he had shaved his droopy mustache. Dan's was back, somewhere between stubble and full growth.
"Somebody does not get along with you," he said to Maria.
"The timber industry?"
"You think this was somebody from the industry?"
"Actually, I'm not sure, but maybe it was some really wacko fringe element of the environmental movement. I mean really wacko. Or maybe it was industry, I don't know."
"It wasn't any industry I know," Dan said.
"Well, we've got forensics people all over up there. They've got a lot of hair samples, fingerprints, all that stuff. But none of it has been run yet. Oddly, we did find a business card of one Hans Groiter. Have to be as dumb as a post to leave that around."
"Isn't he with Amada?"
"Yup. Sure is. And he doesn't seem to be around. Plumb disappeared."
"So are we making progress?" Maria asked.
"Maybe. But you know something as obvious as a business card looks like a plant. You've got to at least consider a frame-up."
"Uh-huh. But those are the same guys who shot at me in the mine."
"Oh, I know, I know. We're all over it. Now where will you be?" he asked, nodding at Maria.
"For the time being at the Palmer Inn with my parents. After that, back to Sacramento."
"Well, as long as you're here, I'm putting two plain-clothes deputies on your tail. And I might recommend that unless the police in Sacramento are going to do that, you might want to stay here until we get this figured out or at least until we get some time under our belt."
"I will take that under advisement."
"And no playing cop, OK?"
David Dun
At The Edge
"Absolutely," Dan said.
By midnight Corey was home and in her basement with Janet. The entire basement area was open except for a load-bearing wall down the middle with a passage at either end, and a single room. Everywhere it was gray concrete. They went to the room and removed a large padlock. It was a furnace room converted by the prior owner to a small workshop and had a number of heavy pipes in the overhead. Here the concrete walls were covered with tool racks and a built-in worktable and a freestanding bench.
Groiter was sitting on a bench, looking like a caged beast. Chain had been looped through his handcuffs and then looped around two of the heaviest pipes with a bicycle lock. His feet were spread-eagled, each fitted with a handcuff that was chained to the built-in worktable. As a final touch, Janet had stuffed his mouth full of handkerchiefs and fastened a gag.
Corey walked up to Groiter, took out his gag, and put a bottle of water beside him. Then she put her lips to his ear. "It would be pointless to beat the shit out of you, but I'm going to anyway."
Corey placed a rubber strap around the bare torso of Hans Groiter, taping other wires to his chest, and putting finger clips on his fingers. Janet's eyes followed Corey's every move.
"You will of course recognize the leads for a simple lie detector," she said to Groiter. "While I have a fairly cheap model, it seems to work quite well. I perfected the technique, as you know, on Kim Lee."
It was 7:30 a.m. and they were waiting for the coffee to brew in Corey's spacious kitchen.
''We're going to have a cup of coffee, then we'll be down to begin the morning's work."
Corey and Janet adjourned to the kitchen.
"Do you think you'll actually have to do anything?"
"Groiter's a professional. He knows what I can do. Some people need some pain before they talk while others are more pragmatic. But last night I got even with the bastard."
"Why did you bother?"
"It's personal."
Corey picked up her cup and returned to the basement. With Janet's assistance she took a carpet that rolled into a twelve-foot length and carried the giant sausage of fabric over in front of Groiter.
"You see that roll of carpet," she said. "Imagine being rolled in it. Tied tight and then lashed to a pole. We put you over an open-pit barbecue and heat the carpet to one hundred fifty degrees and constantly pour water over it, onto the coals. Slow-cook you in the steam. When we do this, your head is a good three feet down inside the end of the roll, but we pump air to you to make sure you stay alive. We do that until you answer all our questions."