Finding Amy (13 page)

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Authors: Carol Braswell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Crime Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Finding Amy
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A drop of sweat rolled down Max's spine in spite of the severe cold
wind. He had to think. Quick. “I had a friend call and I didn’t want to drive and talk on the phone. Not on this slick road.” He chuckled.

The cop looked
in the back window. “I heard a child.”

“Yeah. That’s my niece. We’re going to see her mom and she’s getting anxious.”
Max smiled and put his hand in his coat pocket, locking his fingers around the cold steel.

The Highway Patrolman opened the back door and leaned in. “Are you okay, young lady?”

“I want my Mommy.” Trish pleaded.

The officer took one step back and put his hand on his revolver. “I need you to step away from the door and turn around.”

Max closed his fingers around the gun he had taken out of his pocket and held at his side. With one fluid motion he raised the gun and fired. Trish screamed. The officer grabbed his chest and slumped to the ground beside the Tundra.

“Shit.” Max shoved the officer away from the truck and jumped inside. Rocking the truck back and forth, he finally got it free of the
snow drift and accelerated east on the interstate.

The constant screams from the back seat gra
ted on his already taunt nerves. “Shut up,” he yelled. Trish whimpered and continued to cry softly.

“I’ve got to get off the
interstate and ditch this truck,” Max mumbled. He spotted an exit for a county road, skidded onto the ramp and turned left at the intersection. The truck fish-tailed on the slick road and it took all of his attention to straighten it out. The odometer climbed to a dangerous level. Max knew he had to get as far away from the exit as possible and couldn’t afford to wreck the truck. He eased off the accelerator and started searching for a car he could snatch.

C
hapter 20

Sitting behind Carson, Amy could hear his even breathing and knew how exhausted he must be. Her constant companion for the past ten hours
had been a pounding head and eyes that had to be full of sawdust. How she wished she could sleep. Just thirty minutes would do. But every time she shut her eyes and the truck, turned, hit a small bump or changed gears, her eyes opened. Giving up on napping, Amy dug in her purse, found a bottle of Tylenol, popped two in her mouth and washed them down with the bottle of water Carson had picked up at the last stop. On her left, Jamie snoozed with her head against the door. How she envied her.

A siren drew Amy’s attention. Two blac
k and white State Trooper’s zoomed west on the opposite side of the interstate. She turned and watched them disappear over a hill when another cruiser and an ambulance passed going in the same direction. There must have been a major accident.

Amy faced the front and Carson had sat up and
stared out the back window. Worry lines creased his brow. He glanced at her, didn’t give her his usual smile and turned around. Rex switched on the police scanner.

“Ambulance in route to mile marker
212. Officer down. Repeat; officer down.” The excited voice on the scanner reported.

The scanner
buzzed with questions from officers within radio range wanting to know the condition of the downed officer. The operator issued a report.

“Officer is alive and is being transported. Will update when there is additional information.”

“Find a place to turn around,” Carson instructed Rex.

“Already looking,
” Rex replied.

Rex took
the next exit, crossed over the interstate and took the on ramp back on I-80 west. He floored the accelerator and the truck zoomed to one hundred in a matter of seconds. Amy gripped the door handle and held her breath.

“Wh
 . . .what happened, Carson?” Amy stuttered.

“I don’t know yet.”

Amy counted the mile markers as they sped toward 212. When they topped the hill that she had watched the cruiser disappear over, flashing lights and police cars lined up and down both sides of the interstate. There were uniformed officers putting out flashers, directing traffic and other officers surrounded a black and white police car parked on the side of the road. An ambulance sat beside the parked car and blocked the right lane of traffic

“Stay here.” Carson ordered
when Rex parked. He and Rex were out of the truck and running across the road almost before the truck stopped rocking. Amy watched them produce there identifications when a State Trooper tried to stop them. They were motioned to continue.

T
he ambulance raced away, siren blaring. The troopers who were left milled around talking. Carson and Rex stood with officers. She found it almost impossible to sit in the truck and wait for word. With her face practically glued to the window, she watched the officers searching the ground, talking to other officers, examining the downed officer’s vehicle and some openly weeping. Could this have anything to do with her missing niece? Reaching across the seat, Amy turned the scanner volume up. The woman repeated the alert. A child had not been mentioned. She didn’t want anyone to be hurt and prayed Trish hadn’t been part of this tragedy. The officers began to separate and make their way back to their vehicles. Traffic had backed up as far as she could see.

Glancing at her sleeping sister, Amy shook her head. How could
Jamie sleep through all the noise? The sirens alone were deafening, not to mention all the backed up traffic and loud diesel powered trucks. Jamie hadn’t stirred. Then again, how could she sleep when her only child had been abducted? She knew Jamie loved Trish but her lack of concern bothered Amy.

Amy
’s heart jumped twenty beats when she saw Carson running toward the truck. Her stomach clenched into a knot. She held her breath when he jerked the driver’s side door open and poked his head inside.

“I
need a picture of Trish for an Amber alert,” he demanded.

Amy grabbed her purse off the floor and retrieved a picture of Trish taken this year
when they visited Yellowstone. She handed it to Carson who slammed the door and rushed back across the interstate. Amy sighed and struggled to calm her frazzled nerves.

 

****

 

Carson handed the photo to an officer then he and Rex walked back across the highway to the dually.

“It doesn’t look
good. Guthrie is desperate. I’m glad you told the trooper about Trish. I think they can be of help. If that woman hadn’t been suspicious and called 911 to report what she saw, the trooper wouldn’t have stopped Guthrie. I just pray the officer will be okay and doesn’t end up paralyzed. Calling in the license plate number before he confronted Guthrie probably saved his life.” Carson repeated what he had learned while talking to the troopers.

“With a
state wide APB out, Guthrie won’t get far even if he ditches the truck.” Rex stated.

Carson
climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the scanner down. Amy leaned forward and tugged on his jacket.

“What happened? Who got
hurt? Does it have anything to do with Trish?”

Carson rotated in the seat and took Amy’s hand. “It s
eems Guthrie stopped at the same truck stop where we met Rex. After we left, he took Trish inside to use the bathroom. An older lady asked if her mommy let her go to the bathroom alone. She told the woman that the man outside would take her to her mom if she didn’t talk to anyone. Trish told her that her mommy would be killed and he had a gun. The woman watched Guthrie leave the parking lot, wrote his license plate number down and called the police. They were looking for the truck when the trooper spotted it stuck in a snow bank on the side of the interstate. Guthrie panicked shot the officer in the chest and took off. The trooper is alive but in critical condition. A state wide alert has been issued but I think he’s already ditched the truck. A few minutes ago a farmer in the area called and reported his truck stolen. I’m leaving the scanner on and following the alerts. We’re going to see what the farmer can tell us. Maybe pick up a trail.”

Amy’s eyes clouded with tears.
He took her hand and squeezed. “We’ll get him.”

Rex nodded. “I agree and
the FBI has been notified.”

Carson
turned the scanner up. “Good. With the shooting of a State Trooper we have full alert in four states. I think it’s a matter of time before Guthrie is captured. Let’s go talk to the farmer.”

Jamie
sat up and rubbed her eyes. “God. I think lack of sleep had caught up with me.” She yawned and looked out her window at the police cars still pulling away. “What’s going on?” Jamie grabbed the back of the front seat and screamed, “Is Trish hurt?”


Guthrie shot a State Trooper. He still has Trish. That’s about all we know right now.” Amy explained.

The police scanner blared,
repeating the alert of a stolen vehicle.

“The shoo
ting suspect is believed to be Max Guthrie and has stolen a 1998 red Ford pick-up on County Road 287. The owner said suspect headed east on County Road 287. Guthrie has abducted a four-year-old girl with blonde hair and green eyes, weighing about thirty pounds and answers to the name Trish. Be on the look-out for the truck with a small child. The suspect is armed and dangerous. Repeat . . .the suspect is armed and dangerous. Caution is advised. An Amber alert has been issued.”

“What’s going on?”
Jamie cried out. “He’ll kill my baby.”

“It’s nothing we’ve done
, Jamie. He tried to kill a State Trooper. Every cop in the state is looking for him. They had to know Trish is with him or she might be shot in a crossfire.” Carson explained.

“What are we going to do?
We have to find him before he hurts Trish.” Jamie covered her face.

Rex
reached across the seat and patted her knee. “We are, Jamie. You have to trust us.” He shot a pleading glance at Amy.

Carson
slipped the gear into drive, mashed the gas and the truck shot forward. He drove to the next exit, took it and got back on the interstate headed east.

The only sound in the truck
came from the scanner repeating the alert. Carson took the exit for County Road 287. It didn’t take long to spot the farmer’s residence. The driveway, yard and road were surrounded by State Trooper vehicles. They were searching the Tundra and an arsenal of weapons that had been removed lay on the ground.

Carson looked over his shoulder at
Jamie. Her green eyes, so much like Amy’s stared back at him. “Are you all right, Jamie?”

“No. But I
’m in no position to change that. With all the cops looking for him, don’t you think they stand a better chance of finding Guthrie before we do?”

“I don’t care who finds him, as long as they find him and Trish is safe.”

Carson stopped behind one of the State Trooper’s vehicle parked on the side of the road and he and Rex got out.

 

****

 

What the hell could he do now? Max grabbed a cigarette from the pack beside him. His hands shook when he tried to light it. He had gotten himself into a helluva mess this time. Every cop in the state was searching for him. Shooting that trooper hadn’t been one of his better moves, but necessary. He knew when the cop started talking to the girl that Carson had reported the abduction. Damn him.

Max picke
d up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

“I
t’s about time. Where’s my bag?” Martin grumbled.

“Shut up and listen. I’ve run into some trouble in Colorado and I need you to
find me a way out of here. I’m thinking a chartered plane. I have your daughter with me and we need to get out of this state fast.”

“What the hell happened?
Do you have the bag?”

“No. Your wife doesn’t have
it.”

Martin paused.
“What do you mean she doesn’t have it? Where is it? Why did you take the kid and not the bag?”

Max let out a heavy sigh. “Listen, you idiot. Your smart wife mailed the bag
back to Texas when they left Montana. I took the kid when I couldn’t find the money and told her she could have her back when I get the money. They’re headed to Texas now. That’s not the problem, Martin. I had to shoot a cop and now the whole state is looking for me. If you don’t want this sweet daughter of yours hurt, you’ll start looking for a charter service to get us out.”

“Where are you?”

“How the hell do I know? I’m in a stolen truck, driving down some rut filled road to nowhere. I don’t have my GPS and I had to leave my guns in the rental. Hell, I didn’t even have time to get my cases.” Max had lost his patience.

Martin laughed. “Well, look who’s the idiot now. How am I supposed to find you a plane when I don’t even know where you are? I tell you what; when you figure
it out, call me back and I’ll see what I can do.” The phone went dead.

“Fuck
.” Max threw the phone on the seat.

“You’re not very nice. I don’t like you.” The tiny voice came from the back seat.

“Shut up, kid. I don’t need your smart mouth.”

Max watched her in the mirror
. She pulled the blanket that had been in the back seat of the stolen truck up to her neck and sunk down in the seat. She stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Max passed a sign that read Ft
. Collins, thirty miles. There should be planes in Ft. Collins. He picked up the phone and dialed Martin.

“Yeah. What now?”

“I’m thirty miles from Ft. Collins. Now get on the phone and charter a plane. Call me back as soon as it’s done.” Max hung up before Martin could answer.

Forty-five minutes later he sat in a gas station in Ft. Colli
ns waiting for Martin to call. He had pulled the truck in behind two buildings out of sight. Reaching for another cigarette, he crushed the empty box and pitched it to the floorboard. He opened the glove compartment for another pack and remembered he had changed vehicles. Getting the bag of money probably would be out of the question. For that matter, he doubted he would even be paid for this hit since he couldn’t get close enough to the girl with Carson guarding her. He’d have to go home without a payday. Unless. Max sat up straight. Unless he bargained with Jamie for the money. Martin didn’t know where she had mailed the bag. Max could set up an exchange with her and be on the next plane south before Martin knew what happened.

“Stay put.” Max told Trish. He hopped out of the truck and
made a quick trip into the station to purchase cigarettes. The wind blew his duster apart, revealing the Glock he had strapped to his hip. Looking around, Max gripped the sides, hopped in the truck and heard his cell phone ringing.

His
hand shook when he punched the button. “Did you get it?”

“Stay on 287 going s
outh to Highway 34. A man named Helm is waiting for you at that intersection. Follow him to the airport and he’ll fly you into Wichita Falls. I have rented a car under your alias, Greg Stanton. You do have those drivers license, don’t you?”

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