“He was a good boy, my Matt,” she said over and over. I agreed with her. Now that I knew the information Lindsey had hacked about his undercover work, I should have said it with more conviction. What a hell to outlive your only child.
I didn’t ask for much: only if she had a key to her cabin in Payson. She did. I took it and promised to return it. I already knew of the cabin’s existence and location from a helpful clerk at the Gila County courthouse.
Now I studied my map. I was a map nerd, had been since discovering Grandfather’s subscription to National Geographic, back when each issue contained one. So I could have entered the address into the advanced GPS device in the Lexus. But no, I would use the paper map. I was a dinosaur.
Before driving away, I rechecked the rounds in my Colt Python and slid a Ka-Bar combat knife on my belt. I loaded a carbine and shotgun from the duffle and made sure my Maglite batteries were good.
Be prepared.
With the little light left, I drove west-northwest out of town. The many cheaply built newer houses slowly fell away as the road turned to gravel and the pines enveloped me. Off to the left side, the east fork of the Verde River ran as a narrow stream.
The Pennington cabin emerged off to my right. Trees and underbrush nearly concealed the house and the nearest neighbor was a quarter of a mile east. It was a modest A-frame, probably from the 1960s. The downstairs had a log facing and two simple windows on either side of a door with a porch in front. The windows were draped. Above, the beams and rafters looked hand-hewn.
No lights were visible. A junker car was parked in the dirt beside the house. Orville Grainer’s vehicle, I assumed. I drove on to an intersection with a dirt Forest Service road, turned around and waited fifteen minutes. I used the Steiner binoculars to study the road and forest. No one was behind me.
I crept back to the A-frame and pulled in behind the old car, very conscious of the breathing making my chest rise and fall.
Outside, the air was colder and clouds were overhead. It was nearly dark, a sensation exaggerated by the four-story-tall trees. I hefted out the heavy duffle and pulled out the Colt Python, then walked to the front door. Why not? My feet crunched over pine needles and pinecones, then went up to the porch reached by three steps.
The door was solid wood with a peephole. You never stand directly in front of a door. That’s a good way to get shot. So I stood beside it, remembering another time and another door. My great-grandmother had ESP. That was the family story, at least. When she dreamed of flowing water in a river, someone she loved was going to die.
I couldn’t claim such a gift, but when I was a young deputy I was the first officer to respond to an unknown trouble call. I had approached a darkened house with a peephole door and my Python drawn. The door had been opened three inches and beyond was only darkness. But something, some small voice inside me, had said, Don’t open that door. So I didn’t. It turned out a man with a shotgun had murdered his family and had been sitting on the sofa with the weapon pointed at the door.
And I heard that same voice this time.
But I ignored it, stood to the side, knelt down on my haunches to make myself less of a target, and knocked.
“It’s open!” Peralta’s voice.
No need for the key after all.
I turned the knob, hearing the rhythmic purr of water tumbling over slick rocks in the river across the road, and stepped inside.
Chapter Forty-two
“What took you so long?”
I only heard his voice in front of me. The room was black. I lowered the duffel bag to the floor and closed the door.
“You asshole,” I said. “I could have been here a long time ago but you said I had the wrong number and hung up. When you called back, you wouldn’t talk to Cartwright, either.”
“I meant the drive up here,” he said mildly, all innocence. “I can get from downtown Phoenix to Payson in an hour. I assume Sharon told you why we had to wait.”
“She did.”
“Do you think I’m a diamond thief, Mapstone?”
I slid the Python into its holster. “No.”
“Well, crap. I did my best.”
“Everybody else seems to believe you are.”
“That’s good. What about the woman?”
I told him she had shot and nearly killed Lindsey.
He cursed. He actually apologized, a rarity. If he hadn’t, I might have strangled him.
He said, “I was trying to keep you both safe.”
“Right. But you were nervous enough that you left me the message on the dictaphone.”
My eyes adjusted enough to see him sitting in an armchair facing the door. He had several days of stubble growing out on his face but otherwise looked good. In front of him was a steamer trunk coffee table. Three straight-back chairs were arrayed in the room. Behind him was the kitchen. Up above was a railing for the sleeping loft.
“No electricity?” I asked.
“It’s on. Better to keep things dark. Pham roped me in on this case. The plan was for me to check into a motel on Black Canyon and wait for Pennington. He would contact the Russians and we would have a meet to exchange the diamonds for cash. If everything went well, that would be when the bad-apple agent would show himself and Pham’s people could move in and bag them all. But it seemed like there were a dozen ways it would blow up in our faces.”
“When did it happen?”
“The moment that woman tried to ambush me in the parking garage. I got rid of the tracker in my boot. Then I made up my own Plan B. Get out of town and wait.”
“For?”
“For you to find Pennington.”
I shook my head. “You took a hell of a chance. What if I hadn’t found your note in Flagstaff?”
“Then Sharon would have found a way to tell you,” he said. “Anyway, I knew you couldn’t resist the trains. Look, if I had told you about this ahead of time, you not only would have been in danger, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself from immediately jumping supersonic. I needed to slow you down, but keep you going.”
“You’re a devious man.”
He smiled. “Tell me I’m wrong about you. This is why I texted you so you wouldn’t ask questions at the outset.”
“That was the first thing that seemed suspicious,” I said.
“I’m not an analog, Mapstone. This is also why I dropped Pennington’s name but no other information. If everything went well, I’d be back in the office before you could find him. If it didn’t, he’d know how to contact me, who was clean, who was dirty and we could find a way out. Only he and I knew about this cabin. But he never showed up.”
“He’s dead. The woman killed him.” I filled in some details about Amy Russell.
He was silent for a long time. I found a wooden chair and sat.
“Well, if the world didn’t suck, we’d all fall off,” he said. “Do you have the rough?”
“In the bag. Why was the weapons compartment empty in your truck? That bugged Horace Mann.”
“Good. I cleaned it out and transferred the stuff to Orville’s car. Guns, food, beer, and cigars. All the essentials.”
“I did a check of the Danger Room. Nothing was missing.”
“I brought guns from home,” he said, “Anyway, I made this place as secure as I could. Only one way in or out. Solid walls unless you’re upstairs and they start shooting through the glass. Do you trust Pham?”
I thought about it and answered yes. “He was tracking you with a drone on Friday. They screwed up in not realizing it couldn’t pass over Sky Harbor airspace. That’s how he lost contact. Then you disappeared. I believe him. I think Ed believes him.”