“What’s going on?” asked the voice on the phone.
“Nothing,” the man said. He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses higher on his nose. “Just a few ravens too interested in some garbage. What time should I expect you?”
“Late this evening. We have the last flight into town. Where are you staying?”
The man gave him the address and then flipped his phone shut. The ravens were back, moving in closer and sitting on the branch of some leafless tree. How far away was the next neighbor? Would they hear shots? He shook his head and walked outside to the spot where the ravens had disturbed the snow.
Both faces were exposed, the old man and the old woman who had occupied this house until yesterday afternoon. The ravens had eaten their eyes. He guessed they would work on their stomachs next, taking the soft tissue first. The ravens would stay warm and get fat eating those two.
Off in the distance he could hear gunshots echoing through the cold air. Gazing at the ravens again, he simply shook his head and shuffled back into the warmth of the country house.
12
Jake and Lori spent an hour shooting the new gun, and making sure it was sighted in properly. He had one just like this Glock auto, also in 9mm, but it was stashed away in a storage unit on the outskirts of Missoula. He preferred the .40 cal to the 9mm for the extra knock-down power. But the 9mm version had higher capacity magazines, a nice trade-off for someone with decent shot placement and multiple targets.
Now he and Lori sat at a coffee shop in downtown Whitefish, he sipping a straight cowboy coffee and she cradling a fancy cappuccino between the palms of her hands.
“What?” she asked. “It’s cold out there.”
“That’s not what I was thinking,” Jake said. “I was just wondering if you actually had some java in there somewhere under all the foam and toppings. What the hell is a triple skinny grande double latte extra hot with sugar free caramel, nutmeg and chocolate sprinkles?”
She pointed a finger at him. “Hey, don’t judge me.”
“All right. I was going to question your Montana background until I saw you shoot today. You’re a fair shot.”
“Just fair?”
“A good shot.”
“Not a Natty Bumppo like you, of course.”
“Look at you. Pulling out the James Fenimore Cooper.”
She set her coffee cup down and raised her right hand. “English major. Guilty as charged.”
A muffled buzzing and then a song came from somewhere inside Jake’s jacket. The tune was Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. Jake pulled out one cell phone and set it on the table and then found the right phone, saw who was calling, and pressed the screen to answer.
“Yeah,” Jake said. He listened carefully, taking in what the caller was saying. In the end he simply said, “Got it. Thanks so much.” He hit End on the screen and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
“Everything all right?” Lori asked.
He wasn’t sure how to answer that. It was more than all right. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Two phones? And I thought I was important.”
Jake put his hand on hers, his warmth feeling the sudden cold of her skin. “You are, darling. And your hands are freezing.”
“Tell me about it.”
They sat and stared at each other for a while. She was gorgeous. How had she managed to stay single?
She asked again, “Is everything all right?”
Jake was so used to working alone, or with others in the intelligence community, that he wasn’t used to opening up with information. But something was different with Congresswoman Lori Freeman. She had the clearance and she had the need to know.
“You have to be wondering why we haven’t been looking for the scientist this morning,” he said.
She shrugged. “I guessed you had some method to your madness. Besides, where could we look?”
“Exactly. That would normally be the case. But when I was kidnapped, I wondered how easily I was able to escape. This phone…” He spun his second phone on the table. “They put a tracker on this phone.”
Lori looked concerned as she leaned across the table. She whispered, “You’re kidding me. Are they tracking us here?” She hesitated. “Can they also hear us?”
“I’m sure they’re tracking me. But they can only hear me when I talk on that phone.”
“Why didn’t you just destroy the tracking device?”
That was a good question. “I want them to come after me.”
“But why?”
“I need to know who’s after me. Who’s behind this.”
“Won’t they try to kill you again?”
“They didn’t try to kill me. They had me cold and could have killed me at any time.”
That realization seemed to send a chill through her. Lori leaned back into the booth and crossed her arms over her chest. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Then she leaned forward again and said, “Who was on the phone?”
Jake shook his head. “It’s better you don’t know that. Let’s just say I still have a few friends in high places. These folks did a back-trace on the signal from my phone to those who were tracking me. Then they started monitoring calls into their lines. They just heard from a call that linked back to Montana. They’ll have the location pinpointed soon.”
Her eyes widened. “Umm. That’s not legal without a court order.”
“You see…I knew I shouldn’t have told you. And how do you know we don’t have a court order?”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Besides, I don’t have a problem listening in on, or tracking, criminals and terrorists.” Lori thought again, her mind seeming to spin. “Where do we go from here?”
“We go nowhere,” Jake said. “I go back to the gun shop and pick up some more rounds. Some crazy congresswoman shot the crap out of some stumps this morning.”
“I had help. And then what?”
“I need to find someplace safe to stash you.”
“No way. This is my concern. I need to talk with this man. See what he knows.”
Jake protested with both hands. “I am not bringing you to a hostage extraction from a known murderer.”
She stared at him with determination. “I’ll stay in the SUV.”
He was going to regret this. But he also knew if he wanted to get any information from either the kidnapper or the scientist he needed to do this without the local police or wait for the FBI to show up. Jake kept visualizing the images of Ruby Ridge and Waco standoffs.
They hung out at various places around town, getting frequent updates from the local police on how they still had not found the man who had killed one of their own and kidnapped the scientist. The best part, as far as Jake was concerned, was the fact that snow had continued to fall most of the day and now, with darkness coming fast, the white stuff was coming down like goose down at a pillow fight. The snow had grounded flights coming in or out of the Flathead Valley, including those by the FBI coming from Spokane and Billings. He didn’t need a bunch of Feds mucking up the works.
Jake also changed his clothes from Patagonia Spring fishing wear to layered Montana Winter. Well, as much as he could with what he had in his backpack.
Just as the sun, such as it was hiding behind the clouds and heavy snow, sunk behind the mountains to the west, he got a call from his contact with the location of the killer and the scientist.
Now they sat in the Ford Explorer, the heater working to keep the snow from icing up the wipers.