The Yellow Packard (27 page)

Before approaching the body, she crouched close to the ground. Peering through long rows of corn, she searched for any sign of the person responsible for the attack. Only after she was assured that she was alone did she cautiously head toward the trooper. Moving her gun to her left hand, she reached down with her right and placed it on his neck. He was alive!

Rolling him over, she wiped some mud from his face. His breathing was steady and there were no signs of any obvious injuries. Quickly determining that there was no blood on the uniform, she felt the top of his head. There was an obvious huge knot.

Bouncing up, she moved back to where she’d left the men. They were just coming back down the road. When they got close, she quietly informed them, “Schwatzy’s back in the field. He’s been whacked on the head and he’s out like a light, but he doesn’t appear to be seriously injured. Still, we need to get him to a doctor.”

Strickland hurried past them to check on his partner. As he did, Meeker looked to Reese. “You find anything?”

“Yeah, the whole place is on alert. I’m surprised they didn’t shoot him, but maybe they were trying to do things quietly. There’s no way out other than this road, so they’re holed up for the moment.”

“You said
they
?” she asked.

“I think there are four of them. I can’t be sure if that is all, but I did get close enough to the windows to see that many and make a positive ID on McGrew. They’ve got a big seven-passenger Buick sedan behind the house. I’m also betting they probably have way more firepower than we do. We’re going to have to get backup. In fact, we probably need an army out here. Why don’t you get the injured trooper into town and notify the bureau that we need some help?”

“Not going to happen,” she quickly replied. “Strickland can do that. He knows the area far better than I do. My place is with my partner, and so is his.”

“But, Helen—”

“You know better than to argue with me.” She smiled. “I’ll keep watch here. Why don’t you go help get Schwatzy into the car and give Strickland the numbers he needs to get us some help from Hoover.”

“You’re crazy,” he said, moving away from her and into the field.

Maybe she was. In fact maybe they both were. They were no match for well-armed thugs. Yet they had a duty that they’d sworn to uphold, and nowhere did it give them an out just because they were the underdogs.

Chapter 50

A
s Strickland drove off with Schwatzy, the two agents got into the Packard and followed him until they were out of the home’s line of sight. At that point, Meeker turned the car around and pulled into a cornfield that had already been harvested. The still-standing corn in the untouched field next to it kept the Packard from being seen by anyone coming from the direction where McGrew was holed up. The pair then worked their way through the standing corn to a fence, crossed it, and moved through more rows of corn until they came up to the back side of the gang’s hideout. Stealing up behind the old barn, they carefully sized up their situation.

The Buick was still parked where Reese had seen it earlier. So at least no one had made a move to leave. Yet there were signs of life as men occasionally peered through windows. They were on watch, there was no doubting that.

There was a small door at the back of the barn. Meeker pointed to it and whispered, “Why don’t we at least get out of the mud and rain.”

He nodded, and they hurried along thirty feet of wall. The door easily pulled open, and the pair stole into the old, drafty structure. A quick inventory proved they were alone and that the barn housed very little that would have been of use to McGrew.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a wood and metal device in the corner.

“A hand corn sheller,” he explained. “No one uses that sort of thing around here anymore. Everything has been mechanized.”

“Thus all the old wagons with the wooden wheels,” she said. “And look up on that shelf. There are a couple of bows and a full quiver of arrows. Wish ‘Pistolwhip’ was using those rather than automatics.”

“I agree,” he said. “Let’s move over to that window so we can see the house.”

The pair stealthily crossed the sagging wood-planked floor and eased down as they neared the glass.

“Helen, why don’t you sit for a while. Maybe get some mud off your pumps. I’ll take the first watch.”

Easing to the floor, she placed her gun beside her and pushed her back against the wall. Her favorite suit had probably had it. She’d torn it in three places on the trek to the barn and now she was resting in years of dust.

“You see anything?” she asked.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” he replied. “What’re you thinking about?”

“About how much I paid for this suit and how well it fit. I wonder if the FBI would buy me a new one as I ruined this one in the line of duty.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” he said, chuckling. “Hoover would just use it as an excuse to end ‘The Grand Experiment.’ ”

“I hate this” she noted. “If the cavalry doesn’t get here in time, I might just make my exit looking my worst. I have three runs in my stockings and my makeup is all over my face. And just look at my shoes.”

“You were the one that pulled the strings to get into a man’s world,” he teased.

“I know,” she replied with a smile. “I wouldn’t change it either. But something Johns said today does have me wondering about one of my choices.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“The car,” she replied. “I wonder if the Packard’s luck is still working for us or if it has shifted over to the dark side.”

His eyes still focused on the house, Reese shook his head. “I don’t want to say what I’m thinking on that.”

“You know,” she said, “we can’t afford to die here.”

“If you’ve seen my bills,” he chided, “I can’t afford to die anywhere.”

“No,” she returned, “I’m serious. If something happens to us, no one is going to pick up the Hall case. It will fall between the cracks. That family will never know justice. They will never know what happened to their little girl.”

He glanced over to his partner. “There has to be more to your life than just work. Surely you do something for fun.”

She shook her head. “Not me. Even my leisure reading is research. Ever since Emily was taken, my focus has always been on trying to make my life count for something. Right now that means finding Rose or at least finding out what happened to her.”

“You need to learn to do something other than work.”

“Might be a little late for that now.” She let a shaky grin reshape her face. “But if we get out of this mess and solve the Hall case, maybe I’ll let you show me what you do for fun!”

That brought out a smile. “You are in for it now!”

The sound of the house’s back door creaking open brought both of them back to reality. Pushing herself to her knees, Meeker joined her partner at the window. With their eyes watching his every move, a tall, thin man walked out, lit a cigarette, and wearily jogged out to the car. Opening the driver’s door, he reached in, retrieved something from inside, then hurried back to the house.

“What’d he get?” Meeker asked.

“No clue!” Reese replied. “But I’m guessing they’re getting ready to make their move.”

She glanced at her wristwatch. Strickland had been gone twenty-four minutes. That wasn’t enough time to get reinforcements in place. They needed at least another half hour to get their forces into position.

“You believe in God?” Reese’s off-handed question caught the woman by surprise. She considered it for almost a minute, trying to frame it by what was going on at this very moment, before attempting a reply.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I have real problems believing there is a caring God when I see what my parents went through and what the Halls are going through now. This job, dealing with people like McGrew, it doesn’t leave much room for faith. Guess I’m just too cynical.”

“Makes sense,” he replied. As she slid back down to the floor, he kept his eyes on the house. She had just regained her seat when he added, “But because of what I see in this job, it makes me firmly believe there is evil at loose in this world. And if I believe in evil, then I almost have to believe in good.”

She’d never thought of it like that. There was no doubt in her mind there was evil. She’d believed that since those who took her sister destroyed her innocence, but what about the good? Could good be a force, too? And if good was alive, did that prove there was a God?

“Helen, you ever read the Bible?”

“I did when I was a kid. I was looking for answers and tried everywhere. You wouldn’t believe the books I read looking for answers in college.”

His eyes never leaving the house, Reese quipped, “Did you know Gates went to seminary before he became an agent?”

Helen shook her head. “Stanley? The palooka at the Chicago office that kept bringing in those tips generated by the newsreel?”

“Yeah, he believes that he is in law enforcement to touch others the way Jesus did.”

“I don’t follow you,” she admitted. “I just thought Gates was a clown who liked to tease us.”

“I’m not sure I get him either,” he declared, “but he says it’s about people like the Halls. They have been injured, and it is our job to solve the crime so they can experience healing. Gates claims doing that allows them to have some hope again. And he says that each of us who are involved in bringing that hope is doing something noble. In his mind, bringing a lost child home or bringing resolution to a family is like we are carrying a bit of God around in us.”

She’d never considered that God could be inside her. It was an interesting perspective and one she’d like to discuss with Gates at some point. But if God was really good and He was all-powerful, as she’d been told so many years before in church, then why did He allow Rose Hall to be taken from her family? Try as she could, Meeker could not reconcile the two.

“We’ve got movement,” Reese announced.

“Are they heading to the car?” she asked, pulling herself back up to the window and watching as an armed man stole out onto the porch. Just then a car pulled into the drive.

“No,” he said. “They’ve got company.”

The rain had stopped and the deep maroon Sharknose Graham coupe was pulling to a stop in front of the Buick. A lone man got out of the coupe, pulled a large duffel bag from behind the car’s front seat, and walked casually to the back of the house. The car and his hat shielded them from seeing much of him as he opened the back door and disappeared inside.

“What do you make of that?” she asked.

“The fact that they didn’t hightail it out of here when they discovered Schwatzy makes sense now,” he grimly explained. “They were waiting on a delivery that was so important it was worth the risk.”

“What could be worth that kind of wait?”

“Maybe cash,” Reese suggested. “McGrew has to have it to buy his path to freedom.”

If it was cash or something else, Meeker understood one thing very clearly. The waiting was over. With the delivery made, the gang would be hitting the road in just a few minutes. So even if their reinforcements had not arrived, it would be her and Reese’s job to stop McGrew before he got away. That meant they were actually going to have to fire their guns at real people. And as they were going to be outgunned and outmanned, it likely meant she’d never live to have that theological discussion with Gates or let Reese show her how to have a good time.

Chapter 51

W
ish there was some way we could buy some time.” Reese sighed. He checked his watch and frowned. “The visitor just carried two Thompson submachine guns to the Buick. We can’t fight that kind of firepower and win. They’ll blow us to kingdom come in a matter of seconds.”

Meeker looked as her partner, who quickly bowed his head, closed his eyes, and mumbled a few words. He was praying. It was beginning to look like that was about their only way out of this mess.

“Maybe we should just let them drive off,” Reese whispered as he opened his eyes and once more studied the house. Shaking his head he added, “You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” she snapped.

“It’s not about that,” he argued. “One of us needs to survive to tell Hoover what happened.”

“He doesn’t like me,” she shot back. “You leave. He likes you.”

“You’re so darn stubborn,” Reese whispered.

“Thought you’d be used to that by now,” she jabbed. “So now that we’ve established we are both too stupid to leave, tell me what’s going on.”

“I feel like Jim Bowie.”

“That makes me Davy Crockett, and that makes this barn our Alamo,” she solemnly added. “If I’m going to die, at least it will be with someone I respect.”

“It goes both ways,” he replied. “By the way, the thin guy has been joined by a guy who could be the heavyweight champion of the world. They’re tossing bags into the Buick’s trunk. Meanwhile the deliveryman just strolled out, shook the skinny guy’s hand, and is moving toward the Graham. Looks like he’s leaving now. The others are heading back into the house, probably to get the rest of their stuff.”

“Sounds about right,” the woman noted while pushing herself up from the floor. She glanced through the glass and observed the coupe start, drive around an old stone well, and head back out to the road. She then looked back to the one remaining vehicle. “How far would you say it is to the Buick from here?”

Reese shrugged. “Forty feet, maybe a little more.”

She patted his arm and grinned. “That’s about perfect. You might want to say a quick prayer for strings.”

“What?”

His question was not answered.

Meeker quickly made her way back toward the door where they’d come in. Moving past the wagons and over to where the corn sheller had been placed, she reached up to the shelf. She grabbed a bow, pulled back its string, but it snapped. Tossing it to one side, she retrieved the other one. This was no child’s toy. It was a nice bow, well balanced and crafted from quality materials. At one time it had probably been used for hunting. Saying a quick prayer of her own, she pulled back the string. It was tight. She repeated the action a few more times before chuckling.