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Authors: Andrew Gross

One Mile Under (35 page)

BOOK: One Mile Under
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He’d tried to tell her. A dozen times. If he told her any more clearly, he might as well just admit what he’d done. But she was too damned stubborn to hear what he was saying.
God damn her. God damn her to hell …
“I can’t. You hear me, I can’t. I can’t do that for you. Find someone else.”

“There is no one else, Chief. This is what it is.”

“I said I can’t!” Wade pressed his back and the sweat was cold all over him. “I can’t do that.”

“You know, you should’ve thought of all this a long time ago, buddy. Before you walked around with all that money stuffed in your pockets. That’s what it was all about, Wade. Right? Not your son. Not your stepdaughter. But you … Right? You should have thought of all that then.”

“How do you know she’s even here? How do I find her?”

“Hey, that’s your problem, old-timer. I mean, you are a cop, aren’t you?”

“She’s my stepdaughter, goddammit!” He looked up and down the hall. A few people turned. He shifted away and curled the phone close to his lips and brought his voice down. “It’s not human. You can’t make me. I just can’t …” He stared into Kyle’s room. “I won’t.”

“I see your situation, Chief. I really do. So let me phrase it in a different way … That boy of yours, I know how you feel about
him
. He’s your flesh and blood, right? He’s put in a lot of work to make his way back. After what he’s been through.”

Wade didn’t like where this was heading.

“He may be out soon—four, five months. That’s what this is all about, right …? You. Us?”

Wade grit his teeth, both angry and increasingly worried. “Yes.”

“So you disappoint us on this, I give you my solemn oath of God that that scrambled brain of his will get a pillow over it one night. And soon. We’ll put a rag in his mouth and a knife in his ribs and I promise, he won’t know whether to fucking gag or scream. You hearing me? Anyone can get in there. You know that, right? A fool could. And you already know where we stand when it comes to doing what has to be done. We don’t have to prove that to you, do we, Wade?”

Wade closed his eyes and squeezed the phone, hoping it would crumble. “No. You don’t.”

“Good. So you think about your son, and go do what has to be done. And this is the last you’ll have to hear from me. We’ll all be square. Otherwise I may just have to drop by up there with a load of flowers. Your boy likes flowers, doesn’t he, Wade?”

“No.” Wade seethed. “Don’t.”

“What I thought. So you just remember who your own flesh and blood is, Wade. He is. Not her. Maybe think of it that way. You’ve got two days. Two days to find her if she’s there, and do what has to be done. She trusts you, right? So you figure out the way. I mean, she’s your goddamn stepdaughter now, isn’t she?”

The caller hung up. Wade’s heart had sped up like an amphetamine had been injected in it. Sweat clung to him. He put the phone in his pocket and went back inside. He sank down in the chair next to the bed.

Kyle looked at him. “Who was that?”

“No one, son. No one important.” He’d stepped over this line a dozen times in his life. With his ex-wife, Dani’s mom. With the booze and the pills he’d taken and going into that evidence locker, which cost him his reputation and his job. With Trey.

A dozen times, and maybe just a little bit, each time hurt a little less. Kind of like drinking, he thought.

What was one more?

“C’mon, Kyle, so let’s check out that game. What do you say?” He flicked on the overhead TV and found the broadcast. “Bottom of the sixth. Four to two, Rockies …” Wade said. “De La Rosa’s still in there …”

Kyle nodded, his eyes glazy, staring straight ahead.

Wade reached and wrapped his fingers around his son’s hand. His flesh and blood. “Whaddya say, let’s root ’em in, okay? Ball and a strike. What’re thinking here, fastball or a slider? I’m thinking slider. What do you think, Kyle?”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
 

When they came, as Hauck already figured, they didn’t exactly march through the front door.

It was just past nine, that next night. Hauck had taken a break at the barn window. The one thing he wanted more than anything was to hear his daughter’s voice. A last time, if things didn’t go well. He punched in her number and she picked up on the third ring. “Hey,” he said.

“Dad?”

“Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You didn’t wake me. It’s Friday night. I was just watching
Girls
. With Carrie.”


Girls?
” Hauck said. “Isn’t there a lot of sex in that?”

“Dad, please. There’s sex everywhere today. Would you rather I be watching
Game of Thrones
? Or maybe
Ray Donovan
?”

“I was just saying …”

“Hold on, let me put it on pause. Where are you?”

“Still in Colorado,” he replied. “For a short time more.”

“You ever going to come back here? Mom says it’s because you have a beard. She says you’ve gone native.”

“I lost the beard. Didn’t do much for me, I thought. Made me look old.”

“I kinda liked it actually. Send me a new pix.”

“Okay …”

“So you want to give me a date when I’ll see you again? Like, maybe, before I leave for college? That gives you a year.”

He laughed. “Soon, I hope, honey.”

“You keep saying soon. Dad. What’s going on? You’re sounding a little strange.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. That’s all.”

“I think you just have this dad antennae, to catch me doing something I shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, kind of a police thing, I guess. We all—”

The power suddenly shut off. Outside, the house went dark. People started yelling. “Power’s down!” “What’s goin’ on?” “
Chuck!

This was it, he figured. “Jess, I gotta go.”

“What’s happening there, Dad? I hear a lot of shouting …”

“I just wanted to say I love you, Jessie. Don’t be worried, doll. I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up. He placed the phone on the ledge, rolled himself underneath the window, grabbed his rifle, and looked out. Two vehicles were coming up through the fields, their lights out, barely visible. He could make out four to five of them in them through the sight, with automatic weapons and even night goggles. Two of Watkins’s neighbors scampered around, ducking behind a wall of hay bales from the barn. Murmurs and whispers spread around like wildfire. These were farmers, cattle raisers, not soldiers. Everyone was scared.

Hauck kept cover behind the third-story window and looked through the sight.

Below him, Watkins ran into the barn with his shotgun. “You see ’em?”

“I see them,” Hauck confirmed. “There’s at least four in the fields. Tell your friends not to do anything foolish; don’t start a war. You know the police chief, Riddick?”

“Thirty years. But we don’t see eye to eye on much.”

“Well, this might be a good time to give him a call.”

He looked back outside and saw an SUV coming down the road. It was black, almost blending in in the darkness, its headlights shining. This car they wanted everyone to see. It came to a stop around fifty yards from the house. Hauck trained in on it. The rear door opened and someone got out. Fatigue jacket. High forehead. Under a military-style baseball cap. Balding on top. Hauck had seen him before. The guy from Alpha. The one who told him Robertson wasn’t around much. McKay.

One of the two who Dani said was at the river.

He stood behind the open car door, presumably for cover; it was probably bulletproof. “I’m Randy McKay,” he called out. “From Alpha. Some of you here know me. And what we’ve done for you. And the town. And you know why we’re here, right …? We just want one man. Just to talk with him, that’s all. There doesn’t need to be any bloodshed. We can all just put away these guns.”

Below Hauck, whispers shot back and forth amid the ranks.

“Anyway, I’ve got good news. Truth is, you’ve all already won. I just spoke with Wendell Moss, head of operations for RMM. He’s agreed to negotiate all water rights for farmers in Templeton in exchange for dropping the lawsuit. He guarantees full access to whatever reserves they have. For your fields. For anyone who needs it. They’re even prepared to talk about restitution for lost crop yields over the past six months. That’s up and beyond anything you could have hoped for. It’s a win-win, don’t you agree? No reason that a single drop of blood should be shed here. Just hand over who we came for, and we’ll be gone. And you’ll all be back in business.”

There were murmurs up and down. Hauck heard, “That’s a damn good deal. We’re back in business.” “That’s a whole lot better than we could’ve ever gotten on our own …” “Chuck, do you hear what they said, we’ve won.”

“What’d the police say?” Hauck called down to Watkins, who was standing behind the door.

“Said all their cars were a little busy right now.” The farmer spat, as if disgusted.

Hauck wasn’t surprised. “Kind of a waste of thirty years, no …?”

Watkins chuckled. “And a helluva lot of taxes.”

“Mr. Watkins …” McKay shouted. “You can step out while we talk. Don’t be worried.”

“No worries at all,” Watkins shouted back. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll wait for you.”

McKay remained behind the car door. “Congratulations, you’ve won a helluva victory for your friends here,” he said loudly. “Without a drop of blood spilled. What do you say?”

Watkins came out from around the barn. He went over and ducked behind the large combine that was set up below. “Not a single drop of blood …?”

“That’s a promise. We’ll be gone in five minutes once we have what we want. You have my assurance on that. And what I’m proposing has no conditions. All you have to do is get back in your cars and leave. You’re all witness to it. All we ask is one thing.”


Hauck …
” the farmer said back.

“That’s right. He’s not one of you anyway.” McKay came out from behind the open door and seemed to be speaking to everyone. “He’s only come here to stir up trouble. Look at you all now. Huddled here. You’re not with your wives and children. You’re readying for a fight.
He’s
not gonna be here once this all quiets down. He’s gonna leave and you’ll be high and dry.

“But we’ll be here. To make sure your fields have all the water and irrigation they need. Even before it gets allocated to our own wells. So which is it?
Him?
And a fight. A fight you can’t possibly win. Or this deal. The very deal you’ve sought for the past two years. Even better …”

“C’mon, Chuck.” Hauck heard murmurs below. “We can’t pass this up.”

“We’ve won, Chuck. We have to listen to him.”

Who was this Hauck
? Hauck knew they were all probably asking themselves. They’d didn’t know him. He’d only been in town a few days, and since then the shit had hit the fan. Most had only met him the night before. They hadn’t been shot at like Watkins had. Or had their son taken from them. They were just farmers. And now they were getting the deal they had put their asses on the line for.

“Not one drop of blood, you say …?” Watkins called back. Hauck thought maybe the farmer was weakening.

“You have my word,” McKay confirmed. “We just want to talk to Mr. Hauck.”

“Seems to me, you’re forgetting just one detail …” Watkins said.

McKay stepped forward. “I’m listening …”

Watkins slowly elevated the barrel of his shotgun in McKay’s direction. “My son.”

Someone scampered over in a crouch to McKay and spoke to him, as the Alpha man stepped back behind the door. Hauck focused in through the night sight. He had a beard—what Dani said—and his face was hidden under a military-style cap. He hoped it was him; hoped as much as he could without ever actually seeing him. Robertson.

“What’s done is done,” McKay shouted back. “We can’t take back the past. I’m sorry about your son. But all we can do is make his death mean something. Which it can here, sir. I think you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” the farmer said. He turned to his friends. “Any one of you who want to take this deal and leave, go ahead. I can’t keep you here. To me, seems they’re just buying us off all over again. But he’s right. It’s what we wanted. What we put our necks on the line for. Anyway, I appreciate you boys standing here with me. But anyone who wants to go, now’s the time.”

“Chuck,” one of them said. “I know it’s personal to you, but to us, it’s what we’ve been fighting for. We’ve got businesses. And families, too.”

“I understand.”

“So put down your gun, too. Take what he’s offering. They only want to talk with him anyway. We understand he stood up for us. But you heard him. It’s not like they’re going to kill him.”

“Yeah I heard him as well,” the farmer said. “You all better just go.”

“I’m sorry, Chuck …” Two of them lowered their guns and stepped out from behind the combine. “
We’re coming
!” They put up their hands. Two others, Milt and Don, stayed a few more seconds, trying to reason with their friend. “Chuck, please …”

“I’ll be all right,” the farmer said. “You guys head out.”

“We’ll call Riddick,” Don said.

“Yeah, you do that,” Watkins said. “Tell him I want a rebate on my town taxes. He’ll know what I mean.”

The two looked back at him one last time. Then they came around the bales. “We’re coming out!” They stepped out with their hands visible.

“You men made the smart choice.” McKay stepped out to greet them. “Just head to your trucks and go on home. Don’t you worry about anything. We’re just gonna talk it all through. Man to man.”

“We’d like to stick around if that’s all the same,” Milt Yarrow said. “And see how that goes.”

“I told you to get in your trucks and go.” It almost sounded like an order. “That’s the deal. Unless any of you want to reconsider. Go on. You can talk with your friend here in the morning.”

One by one, they all took a last look at the house and loaded into their trucks. They started up their engines starting up, slowly backed out onto the drive, and headed down the road, glancing behind as they drove.

“You boys, too,” Watkins said to his hands. “I appreciate you staying. But it ain’t your fight, Miguel and Lupe, any more than it was theirs. Go on.”

BOOK: One Mile Under
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