VEILED MIRROR (22 page)

Heart pounding, Jason crouched low, to one side of the door, and pushed it wide with the shotgun. There was no motion, no sound beyond Ollie’s muffled barking and snarling.

Burly Russian gunmen pushed through the door of the boardroom. One knelt, firing his Uzi. The smell of Cordite and Russian coffee filled the air as pain ripped through his shoulder.

No! Not now.
Jason gulped a deep breath, pushing the intrusive memory away.

Moving cautiously, he searched the house, afraid of what he might find. He strove for the familiar cool calm that usually possessed him in a take-down situation, but all he could think of every time he turned a corner was whether he would see Beth’s body lying on the floor.

When he got to the library, his heart jolted painfully. The chess table lay on its side, the pieces scattered over the carpet amid the shards of a shattered lamp. A smeared hand-print of blood marked the doorframe.

Beth’s blood?

He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. Then another, but his heart was lodged firmly in this throat.

He finished searching the house, but all was in good order. He saved the master bedroom, where Ollie was scratching and barking, for last. It wasn’t likely a killer was hiding in the same room with the manic dog. Jason caught him before Ollie could rush into the library and cut his feet on the broken glass. “Sorry boy,” he said to the struggling dog. “I can’t have you mucking up the scene.” He hated to do it, but he locked Ollie back up in the room, and heaved a sigh.

He’d found no more blood. Beth probably wasn’t dead. Not yet.

He’d bought a pre-paid cell phone when he’d stopped for condoms. Jason pulled it out and punched in 911.

“Where are we going?” Beth asked.

“Just shut up and drive.” Anderson didn’t bother pointing his gun at her. He just gave a little tug to Ollie’s leash and choke chain that she now wore around her neck. It pinched and released.

Beth negotiated a twist in the narrow dirt road that Anderson had directed her to take. Her hand ached where she’d cut it. She’d tried to hit Anderson in the head with the lamp, but he’d ducked just in time and she’d only smashed it against his shoulder. He hadn’t been happy. The side of her face throbbed where he’d hit her. She was going to have a real shiner tomorrow—if she was still alive.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m not Ellie. I’m Beth, her sister. You’ve already got what you wanted. Ellie’s dead.”

“I said, shut up!” Anderson jerked more forcefully on the leash. The collar tightened painfully for several seconds before he let it relax, just long enough to make her anxious for her next breath. “Drive faster.”

Beth fell silent and sped up. Maybe she should drive them into a drainage ditch. Anderson wasn’t wearing a seat belt. But then she wasn’t either, and the air bag would probably keep him from being hurt.

Anderson pulled on the leash. “Slow down. Don’t get cute, just drive.”

She eased back on the accelerator. They weren’t going that fast now. If Anderson hadn’t hand-cuffed her to the steering wheel, she would have considered jumping out of the car,willing to take her chances that he wasn’t that good a shot. But all she could do was take as long as she dared to get to wherever they were going, and hope that Jason, or the police, or someone, found her in time.

“Forty-five minutes!” Saguaro was
a big county, and no one was close. The Sheriff’s Department was dispatching someone right away, but it was going to take nearly an hour for someone to get to the ranch. “I’m not going to wait that long,” Jason said, heading for the door. He wasn’t sure where he was going to start looking, but he couldn’t just wait here, doing nothing. “Get here when you can. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Mr. Blackforth?” Montgomery, the insurance agent, knocked at the open door. “Is everything all right?”

“What are you doing here?” Jason snarled.

Montgomery’s eyes fastened on the gun in Jason’s hand. “I, uh, came to apologize to Mrs. Pontifore for upsetting her.” He took a step back as Jason came toward him. “Is everything all right?” he asked again.

“Are those papers for her?” Jason answered, holding out his hand.

“Ah, yes.” Montgomery handed him the forms. “My investigation was fairly straight forward. It’s clear that suicide is not a consideration in this case.” He took another step back. “Good afternoon.”

Jason felt a flare of vindication, then instinct kicked in. “Wait. Why did you think there’s something wrong?” Had he seen something?

Montgomery turned back, eyeing the shotgun. “I just heard what you said on the phone. You sounded upset.”

Jason followed Montgomery out into the drive, heading for his rental.

Montgomery paused. “Do you know when Mrs. Pontifore will be back?”

Jason’s heart thudded. “How did you know she’s gone?”

“I passed her on my way here. She was with another gentleman in a maroon car. They turned down that old dirt road. You know, the other side of where the fence veers off? She was driving way too fast, if you ask me.”

Jason’s heart leapt. It wasn’t much, but Montgomery’s info was a place to start. “Call Sheriff Connor!” he yelled over his shoulder as ran for his vehicle. “Tell him what you told me!” He gunned his engine to life, and backed up, spinning gravel.

Thirty minutes later, Beth’s
hands were cramped from clutching the steering wheel and keeping the car steady on the rutted dirt roads. She slowed as they approached a chain-link fence with concertina wire looped across the top. One sign said “Carlton Mine.” Another warned, “Danger!
Peligro!
Contaminated Area!” A padlocked gate barred their way.

“Stop the car,” Anderson ordered.

Beth did as she was told.
Maybe, if Anderson gets out, I can smash him against the fence with the car.

“Turn off the engine and give me the keys.”

Beth ground her teeth and complied. Anderson got out and left the door open. Hot, humid air rushed in, banishing the meager remnants of the air conditioning.

“Don’t wander off.” He laughed, then walked over to the gate.

A second later Beth jumped as Anderson shot the lock. He bent to examine his target then gave it a hard yank.

“Damn it!” He aimed and shot again. Anderson yelped and danced backward as a rock shattered beside his foot.

Beth almost laughed.
With a little luck, he’ll hit himself with the next ricochet.

Anderson fired again, and yanked on the battered metal, but the hasp remained firmly attached to the casing. “Son of a bitch!” He ran a hand back through his thin hair and paced back and forth. Apparently shooting locks didn’t open them the way it did in the movies.

Beth twisted her hand in the handcuffs, but all she succeeded in doing was scraping her wrist raw.
If this were a movie, I could free myself with a bobby pin or a paper clip. If I had one, that is.

Anderson tucked the gun in his belt and went to the trunk.

I suppose it would be too much to hope for him to shoot his balls off.

Anderson returned to the gate with a tire iron in hand. Sweat stained his shirt and beaded on his forehead. He applied the metal bar to the lock, looking for leverage, but it kept slipping free. He wedged it one way, turned it another, but it was too big to fit into the hasp. “Damn it!” He slammed the iron against the lock in frustration, once, twice, with no effect. Finally he threw the bar across the road.

He looked at the top of the fence, then back at Beth, then shook his head. Beth let out a breath. She didn’t want to get sliced up climbing through that wire. Then she shook her head. Getting cut was the least of her worries. Anderson was going to kill her when they got to the mine.

T
he Taurus shimmied as Jason raced down the road that Montgomery had pointed out, hoping he didn’t blow a tire or break an axle on the rutted dirt. He was dangerously close to losing control of the car, and forced himself to slow down, grinding his teeth in frustration. He couldn’t help Beth if he crashed.

Jason struggled to regain a measure of professional focus, but panic buzzed in his head. He’d let Beth talk him into leaving her alone. What would he do if he found them too late? If Beth was dead? He already knew what that felt like, and that was when he hadn’t seen her for months. Now, after seeing her again, after tasting her, and touching her, and sharing the gift of her passion … How could he have walked away from that four months ago? Away from her.
What was I thinking?
He’d been an idiot. And when Maria had said Beth was dead …

I can’t lose her again.

Jason swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He wasn’t going to think about that.
I
will
get there in time.

Jason pushed the Taurus a little faster.

What’s he doing? Beth
frowned as she watched Anderson. He was walking away, scanning the ground near the fence. Then she shook herself. It didn’t matter what
he
was doing.
She
was wasting an opportunity. Beth stretched over to open the glove box, searching for something that might work as a weapon. It was empty except for the rental agreement. She looked in the console and under the floor mats, hoping the rental agency had missed a paperclip or a ballpoint or a metal nail file, but they’d cleaned the car thoroughly. She found nothing she could use to free herself.

Anderson had walked a good distance away. If she could just get loose, she was sure she could out-run him by cutting through the desert where the car couldn’t follow. She tugged again at the handcuffs, twisted and poked at them, but the effort was futile.

If I could cut through the steering wheel …
She rolled her eyes in disgust.
Yeah, right. With what? I might as well wish for the key—and a gun while I’m at it.
She was stuck until Anderson came back.

But she wasn’t stuck with the choke collar. She slipped it over her head, then paused. She could slap him across the face with it when he got back in the car.
And then what?
It wouldn’t disable him and she’d still be cuffed to the wheel. She stuffed the collar under her floor mat. Anderson would have to work for it if he wanted to use it on her again.

Fortunately, it was taking him a long time to get inside the fence. She wondered why he didn’t have her ram the gate, then answered her own question.
He probably doesn’t want to damage the car, so he can say he was at church at the time he kills me.
And that meant he wouldn’t shoot her in the car, either.

She wondered if Jason was back yet from the Hendricks’. Then a cold thought struck. Even if he was, how would he know where to look? He wouldn’t. The Pontifore ranch was huge, and he wouldn’t even know to look for Anderson’s car. For all Jason knew, Anderson was at church.

Fear tightened her throat. No one was going to rescue her. She was on her own, with no weapon, and no way to escape.

Beth glanced in the mirror, thinking of Ellie. Her sister wouldn’t give up, and neither would she.

Dust billowed around the
car, then was whipped away by the wind as Jason put on the brakes. He’d come to fork in the road.

Which way? Which way?
He didn’t have time to waste taking the wrong choice. One side veered into a rocky canyon, the other continued on the way he’d been going.

He looked hopefully in the rear-view mirror, but Ellie wasn’t there.
Shit.
What kind of a fool was he, expecting guidance from a ghost?

A desperate fool,
he answered himself, as he glanced at the glass again, and checked the side-view mirrors too, hoping Ellie might be there to show him the way. They only reflected the desert scrub behind him.

He got out of the vehicle to look at the road. Maybe one spur would have signs of recent tire tracks.

Jason bent to examine the ground. It was hard packed, showing only the occasional tread or hoof print. Maybe Tonto could read this, but Jason was a city boy. He couldn’t tell if one set of tracks was more recent than another. He fisted his hands in frustration, staring down one narrow lane, then the other. If he chose wrong, it could cost Beth her life. In the city he could call for back-up. A helicopter would be able to spot them from the air. But he wasn’t in the city.

“I could use some help now, Ellie,” Jason muttered as he got back in the car.

His right turn signal was blinking. He shut it off. It clicked back on, the little arrow on the dash flashing insistently.

“What the—”

Jason stared for a second, then the corner of his mouth curled up as he understood. He put the car in gear. “Thanks, Ellie,” he murmured as he turned onto the right fork, into the canyon.

Beth saw Anderson pounce
on something with a yip of excitement, then turn and make his way back to the gate. He’d found a piece of rebar that was thinner than the tire iron. It didn’t take him long to slip it through the hasp and twist until the lock broke. In a moment he had the gate pushed wide and he was back in the passenger seat, pointing his gun at her. He handed Beth the keys.

“Drive.”

Beth started the car. He hadn’t even noticed the collar was gone. She suppressed a surge of hope. She still had to get free of the cuffs before she could get away.

Beth drove through the gate, past the dump of old equipment and rusted metal on the right. To the left, a wide, shallow pond at the base of the tailings pile reflected the dull gray sky.

This is not what I want my last sight to be. Not this, and not Anderson.

She stopped the car inside the fence.

“Keep going,” Anderson said.

Beth felt a chill despite the summer heat. Anderson didn’t feel the need to conceal their passage by closing the gate.
He must not expect to be here long.
She didn’t have much time, then. She had to do something. He was going to kill her if she didn’t.

Beth drove slowly on. Her best chance was when he unlocked the handcuffs. Maybe she could lunge at him, take him off guard. But once she was free he’d be more careful. He didn’t handle the gun like he was comfortable with it, but he didn’t need much skill to shoot her if the barrel was pressed against her head.

“Stop here and give me the keys.”

The road forked in front of the mine. One branch hugged the base of the rise, the other continued on through the old iron gate that guarded an opening in the canyon wall. There was a parking area to one side of the entrance.

Beth braked. “Why are you doing this? You can have the money. I don’t want it.”

Anderson snorted. “Of course you want it. There’s not a woman alive who doesn’t love to spend a man’s money. Jewelry. Houses. You’ll want it for that brat of yours, if nothing else.”

“I told you, I’m not Ellie! I’m Beth!”

Anderson paused for a second, then shook his head. “So what? It doesn’t change anything. It’s still all about the money. Why else would you take your sister’s place?” Anderson held out his hand. “Now give me the keys.”

“But if you believe I’m not Ellie, why do this? I’m no threat to you! I’ll tell everyone I’m Beth, and the money will go to Palmer. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You manage his finances. You can do whatever you want with it.”

“Right. And what else will you tell them?” He looked for the leash. “What did you do with the collar?”

Beth just shrugged.

Anderson smiled tightly and pointed the gun at her. “It doesn’t matter.” He wiggled the fingers of his other hand. “The keys. Now.”

Beth turned off the engine and handed them over.

He got out of the car and used the rebar to break the still shiny lock on the rusted gate, then pushed it open with an ominous screech of metal on metal.

Beth winced at the sound.

Anderson went to the trunk, then came around to her side of the car, wearing Chris’s hard hat.
That’s what was different!
The hat had been missing from its place in the library. The maps, too. He opened the door, and pressed the barrel of his gun against her head. Beth froze, as he fished something out of his pocket. It was the key to the cuffs.

“Here. Use it.”

Beth stared at the key, her mind racing.

Whatever she did, she’d probably wind up dead.

“Sometime today,” he complained.

Beth took the key, fumbled, and dropped it.

“Stupid bitch!” He knocked her in the side of the head with the butt of the gun.

Pain exploded across her face and down her neck. Her vision grayed for a moment, then Beth blinked the world back into focus.

Anderson bent to retrieve the key. “Where the hell is it?”

Beth turned in the seat and kicked Anderson in the face as hard as she could.

With a grunt, Anderson bounced off the door and fell back on his rear; the gun dropped from his hand. It was too far away for her to reach. Beth scrambled out of the car sideways, her left hand still cuffed to the wheel. Her head swam for a moment, then cleared. She turned and knelt, searching for the key. The sun glinted off it, just beyond the edge of the door.

Beth grabbed the key. Her hands were shaking so hard she had trouble fitting it into the lock.
Hurry. Hurry.

Anderson groped for his weapon. Beth aimed another kick at his head, but he ducked the blow—and came up pointing the gun. The bore looked huge. The bullet coming out of it would make an equally huge hole in her chest.

In a second he was on his feet, jamming the barrel under her chin. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard.

“Do you want to die right here? Do you?” he screamed in her face as he pushed her head back painfully. “We can end it right now, if you want! It’s all the same to me.”

The car fishtailed as
Jason sped down the narrow, disused road as fast as he dared, a rooster tail of dust boiling up behind. Steep canyon walls rose to either side. What would he face when he found Beth and Anderson? He strove to remember what he’d been taught about hostage situations, but his mind was full of fear for Beth.

He had to get control of himself. He couldn’t help her if he let his emotions get in the way.

Jason came to a chain-link fence and slowed. A gate that bore signs declaring, “Danger,” and “Carlton mine. Private property. Keep out,” hung open.

The road curved around the tailings pile, then split in front of the mine. He didn’t need Ellie to tell him which way to go. There was Anderson’s car. They were in the mine.

He should wait here for back-up. There was nowhere for Anderson to go. But he had Beth in there with him. And unless Jason did something, he was sure Anderson would kill her. Jason checked his cell. No signal.
Shit.
He grabbed the rental contract, scribbled a note on the back, and left it under the wiper. It would have to do.

He grabbed the shotgun and headed into the dark maw of the mine.

Fifty feet inside the
tunnel, Beth blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Anderson hadn’t yet turned on the hard hat’s lamp. The mine was cool and still, but his hand was hot where it fisted in the back of her shirt.

Tires crunched on the dirt outside. Hope surged as Anderson froze, then pulled her into a recess in the wall beside several boxes. His free hand covered her mouth. “If you move, if you make a sound, I will shoot whoever comes through that gate,” Anderson whispered in her ear. “Do you understand?”

Beth nodded. What should she do? Anderson was likely to shoot the person anyway. Should she try to warn them? Or would she be causing his death?

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, then she heard soft, cautious steps. Anderson’s hand was tight across her mouth, the gun pressed painfully into her side.

Cool air brushed Beth’s cheek and she shivered, waiting as the footsteps grew closer. Jason edged by the alcove, only five feet away.

“Drop your gun,” Anderson said, “or I’ll put a bullet in her brain.”

Jason froze at the
sound of the voice behind him, his heart pounding. “You don’t want to do that, Bob.”

“Actually, I do. So don’t give me an excuse.”

Jason’s hand tightened on the shotgun. It went against everything he knew to disarm himself, and Anderson was probably going to shoot them both anyway. He was sure he could turn, drop, and shoot before Anderson could get off a round. But he didn’t know where Beth was, and the shotgun wasn’t a precise weapon.

Jason bent and carefully placed the shotgun on the ground.

“Good choice. Now go on down the tunnel.”

Jason stayed where he was, and slowly turned to face Anderson. His eyes were starting to adjust to the dim light. Anderson held Beth in front of him, hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear. She had a darkening bruise on her face and a bloody rag tied around her hand.

A wave of rage washed over Jason. This bastard had killed Chris and Ellie and now his finger was on the trigger of a gun pointed at Beth. Every muscle in Jason’s body wanted to leap on Anderson and pound him into an ugly, bloody mess, but he couldn’t do that. Not until Beth was safe.

Jason fought down his anger. “You know, Bob, you don’t need to do this. Whatever the problem is, we can work it out. How about you put the gun down and we talk about this?”

“Jesus! Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Anderson made a disgusted sound, and gestured with the gun. “Now turn around and get moving.”

Good. Take the gun off Beth.
Jason inched forward. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Bob. I know you’re really smart. So you know you don’t have to hurt anybody.”

Anderson pointed his .40 caliber semi-auto at Jason’s chest. “I said, turn around!”

Jason stopped in mid-step, eyes drawn to the large bore of the gun. At this range it would be hard for even an idiot like Anderson to miss. For a second he was back in that board room with Babinevich’s men, surrounded by pain and noise and death. His heart slammed in his chest.