Читать книгу Bounty Hunter Honor - Kara Lennox - Страница 11

While Rex and Ace went through their lists of U.S. intelligence contacts, and with Nadia’s approval made some very cautious and diplomatic inquiries, Nadia sat down with pen and paper. Rex had given her instructions to make a list of everyone Peter knew. Then another list of his hobbies and interests. And a third of any place he frequented—churches, stores, bars. Rex had told her to write down everything that came to mind, no matter how trivial.

Twenty minutes later, Rex was off the phone and Nadia had three formidable lists. She was surprised at how many potential leads she had come up with. Rex gathered the bounty hunters together again and they went over Nadia’s lists.

“Peter thinks very highly of himself,” Nadia said when she was given the floor. Rex had asked her to describe his personality and habits to the rest of the team. “He is very superior. He has good taste, or thinks he does, and he considers most Americans to be pigs. He likes fine French wine. And vodka, of course. He only smokes Cuban cigars, which he gets from Russian friends.”

“So, are most of his friends Russian?” Beau asked.

“Yes. He belongs to a society, sort of like a secret club or lodge, that admits only those born in Russia. I don’t even know what it’s called, but you could probably find it through the Russian Orthodox church on Jersey Street.”

“Did he go to that church?” Gavin asked.

“No, he wasn’t remotely religious. But the church has close ties to the lodge.”

She went on to name the two friends Peter hung out with at work—young intellectuals with a radical bent. “They talked about Russian literature and politics. They’re young men, early twenties, I think, and they idolized Peter. He liked to hang out with people he could control.”

“Is that why he married you?” Rex asked.

It was an honest question, but it made Nadia uncomfortable to admit that, yes, for a while he was able to control her. “He dazzled me, especially at first. I admired his intelligence and his fierce ideals, even though they were different from mine. But he chose me because I had access to technology he wanted. It was that simple. Once I realized that, he had no power over me. But by then it was too late. I had told him more than I should have about my work, and that made me vulnerable.”

She hesitated, then added, “This isn’t the first time he’s tried to get secrets out of me. I should have turned him in when I found out what he wanted. But then there were the threats and the violence…he promised to stay out of my life if I kept my mouth shut.”

Nadia had just revealed far more than she’d meant to. She was supposed to be relating Peter’s friends and interests, not justifying her stupidity.

But she saw no condemnation in the bounty hunters’ faces as they listened to her story with rapt attention. She thought she even saw understanding in Rex’s eyes.

She felt lighter, having admitted her past mistakes. She hadn’t realized how deep-seated her guilt was until now.

“If I had turned Peter in,” she finished, “I would not be here now.”

“You couldn’t have known that,” Lori said. “You made the best decision you could at the time. We just have to move forward now, not look back.”

“Let’s focus, people,” Rex said again. “This isn’t Oprah. Nadia, what else is on your list?”

“He loves guns,” Nadia continued, moving quickly past Rex’s rebuke. He was right, of course. They did need to stay focused on the here and now. “He is a very good marksman, and he even took some trophies at a few tournaments.”

“Did he belong to the Payton Gun Club?” Ace asked.

“Yes. It’s on my list. I even went there a few times myself, for target practice.”

“So you can handle a gun,” Lori said with renewed respect.

“Yes, I know firearms,” Nadia said modestly. “My grandmother was a…a collector. She taught me to shoot. I got rid of all my guns when Lily was born, though. I couldn’t stand the thought that someday she might…well, I’m sure you’ve heard the statistics.”

“We know,” Gavin said. “Beau and I both have young children.”

That surprised her. The idea that these tough guys had wives, families, seemed incongruous. Her gaze flickered toward Rex, trying to picture him as a dad, playing softball with his kids, enjoying a backyard barbecue. The picture wouldn’t come.

“Peter had friends at this club?”

“Yes. Another Russian, Vlad. I don’t remember his last name. After I lost interest in shooting, Peter hung out at the club even more. He started participating in the hunts, where they would release an animal onto the grounds and the hunters would compete to see who could track it and kill it first.”

Lori made a face. “That’s really sick.”

“I thought so, too,” Nadia agreed. “But they were very popular events. Peter said there was no greater high than the thrill of the chase.” Though these details about Peter seemed off the subject to Nadia, the bounty hunters were all taking notes or at least listening carefully.

“Do you have any other names from the club?” Rex pressed.

“There was a woman….” She paused. Could that be it? Could that be where she’d seen the rat-faced woman? She’d gone to a wine-and-cheese function shortly before she’d dropped out.

“Nadia, what is it?” Rex asked.

“That might be where I saw the rat-faced woman. I vaguely remember a woman, a Russian accent. She was flirting with Peter, but I was so used to that happening that I just tuned it out. But she had dark hair, not blond.”

“People can change their hair color,” Rex pointed out. “At any rate, this Payton Gun Club sounds like it’s worth checking out.”

“I have a membership,” Ace said, which didn’t surprise anyone. “I know the owner. Rex, I’ll get you a guest pass.”

REX DIDN’T WASTE ANY TIME. He culled the most promising leads from Nadia’s list, and parceled out the assignments. He sent Lori to check out the former co-workers, since they were young and male and kind of nerdy, in Nadia’s opinion. They would respond to a pretty blonde.

Ace volunteered to go to the Orthodox church and see what he could find out about the Russian lodge. “I speak a little Russian,” he said, though he was vague about how he had acquired the skill.

Beau was assigned the fancy smoke shop where Peter got his illegal Cuban cigars. The guy who ran the store was one of Peter’s friends. Gavin offered to check out Peter’s last known address and canvass the neighbors.

“That leaves the gun club for you and me,” Rex said to Nadia. “We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“I’m going with you?”

“I can’t leave you alone, unprotected,” Rex said. “Peter already tried to kidnap you once. He might have decided blackmailing you using Lily is too risky, since you’re not playing by the rules. Rescuing one hostage is difficult enough. I don’t aim to have to rescue two.”

Though Rex’s protectiveness was strictly practical in nature, it warmed her nonetheless. It had been a very long time since anyone had shown concern for her welfare. And though she knew she was buying all this concern, she liked it. It made her feel secure in a way she hadn’t experienced since Nana Tania’s death.

“Tonight,” he continued, “you’ll stay in a hotel. I can be sure no one follows you there.”

“That’s not really necessary,” she argued. “My house is very sec—” She stopped when she saw the uncompromising look in Rex’s eyes. “Right. A hotel.”

“HOW DID YOU SLEEP?” Rex asked as Nadia climbed into his black Blazer the next morning. She’d managed to acquire some fresh clothes, he noticed. Same jeans, but now she wore a Southeast Texas State University sweatshirt under her windbreaker, probably acquired from the hotel gift shop.

She plugged her cell phone into his cigarette lighter to recharge. “I managed a couple of hours.”

“I take it you didn’t hear from Peter?”

“Not a peep.” She looked at him anxiously. “What if we did the wrong thing? What if he’s broken off communications for good?”

“How bad does he want this…thing you have?”

“Bad.”

“He’ll call. He’s just licking his wounds.”

“But what about Lily? Twenty-four hours have passed now.”

Rex knew the statistics as well as anyone. But he didn’t think they applied here. Peter Danilov was a blackmailer, not a sex fiend. He had a stake in keeping Lily alive. “He’ll call.”

He needed to distract Nadia from her morose thoughts. “I need you to tell me what you know about the Payton Gun Club.” He’d done quite a bit of research last night, but she might have some insights.

“Well, it’s been around for more than a hundred years,” Nadia said. “It used to be a huge estate belonging to one of the town founders—I forget what his name was. But he was really into hunting, and I guess he didn’t have children because he left his entire estate to the city of Payton, with the condition that the land and home be preserved and left undeveloped for use by hunters.”

“How big is it?” Rex asked.

“Several hundred acres. The Payton Gun Club leases the land from the city. The club renovated the barn, then built onto it for its shooting range and administrative offices. But no one had any money to keep up the old house, so now it’s just a crumbling ruin they use for tactical exercises. The rest of the grounds have been left wild. There’s a tall fence around the perimeter, and barriers to prevent stray bullets from getting off club property. But mostly it’s just wilderness.”

“And when they have these live hunts—how does that work?”

“They bring in some deer or javelina hogs or whatever, tag them and turn them loose. Then they turn the hunters loose.”

Rex had to agree with Lori—it did seem barbaric. The animals hardly had a chance, trapped in an enclosed area, even if it was hundreds of acres.

The Payton Gun Club was in a rural area outside the city limits. Though Nadia had described it, Rex wasn’t prepared for the actual place, starting with the wrought-iron fence that ran along the road for a half mile before they actually reached a gate and a discreet sign identifying the place. The peeling sign said Members Only in large letters, but the rusty iron gates were open, so Rex drove in. The Blazer’s tires crunched over the limestone gravel drive.

A smattering of cars was parked in the lot in front of a barnlike structure. Behind the barn was a long cinder-block building with no windows—had to be the indoor shooting range. Through a chain-link fence, Rex could just make out some targets in the distance—an outdoor range, probably not used much in the winter. Farther in the distance, a gray stone house rose up out of the prairie grass and scrubby trees. With its vacant windows and sagging roof, it had to be the former owner’s home, fallen into disrepair.

Beyond the house were woodlands. At least the poor animals had some place to hide.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Rex said. He made no move to exit the car as he tried to get a feel for the club. Maybe he’d seen too many spooky movies as a kid, but the Payton Gun Club had an air of shabbiness and desolation that called to mind maniacal killers in hockey masks. Especially that house. “You used to come here, huh?”

“I like target shooting,” she said. “It sounded like fun. But really, I only came a couple of times. I was never comfortable here, and Peter was just as happy to have me stay home so he could have male bonding moments with his friends. Female bonding, too, if I’m right about rat-face.”

“So you don’t think you’ll be recognized?”

“Doubtful.”

Just the same, he had Nadia pull her distinctive curly hair back with an elastic, then wear a baseball cap and her sunglasses. It was enough to throw off a casual observer, anyway.

Just inside the barn’s double doors was a reception desk. A bored-looking kid sat behind it reading a comic book. “Hi,” Rex greeted him, causing the kid to jump. “Ace McCullough left a couple of guest passes for me and my wife?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re around here someplace….” The kid rummaged around on the desk until he found them. “Dennis and Freesia Blankenship?”

“That’s us.”

“I’ll need some ID,” the kid said, sounding bored.

“Oh, Dennis, I left my purse in the car,” Nadia said.

“That’s okay,” Rex said. “I’ve got my license.” And he did, in fact, have a fake driver’s license. It was Rex’s picture, but Dennis’s name. The kid gave the card a cursory look and jotted down the number which, if anyone checked, would come back as belonging to a deceased person. But he doubted anyone would check. No one ever did.

Rex told the kid they were there to do some target practice with a gun he was thinking of buying. The kid handed them some ear-protectors, assigned them a lane and pointed them in the direction of the indoor range.

The range was bigger than it looked from the outside. And despite the rather shabby exterior, the inside appeared to be state of the art. They found their lane. And while Rex opened the leather case he’d brought and looked at the huge .44 Magnum Ace had loaned him, Nadia covertly checked out the other three shooters.

“I don’t recognize any of them,” Nadia said.

But Rex did. One of them was a Payton police officer, a young patrolman not long out of the Academy who hung around Lyle Palmer and tried to earn brownie points. Andy Arquette, that was his name. Rex did his best to keep his back angled toward Andy, not wanting a confrontation.

Rex wondered why a cop would come here when the police had their own shooting range he could use for free.

Nadia gave a low whistle when she saw the gun. “A Ruger Super Blackhawk .44 Magnum. That is some fancy handgun. I love the blue steel.”

“Your granny must have been quite a knowledgeable collector.”

“Well, actually, Nana Tania was a spy.” Some people reacted strangely to that information, but Rex took it in stride, nodding appreciatively. “After she retired, she said she was glad to be out of the spy business, but she must have missed it some, because she had a closet full of guns. When I was little, we would take them out and play with them the way other little girls take out their Barbie collections.”

Rex just shook his head. “You’ll have to tell me more about your Nana sometime. So, can you shoot this baby?”

She demurred. “I’m really rusty—haven’t touched a firearm since Lily was born. You go ahead.”

He’d been afraid of that. But if they wanted this to look good, they would have to actually fire the gun. He took the wicked-looking blue-steel gun out of its foam nest and loaded one of the many full magazines Ace had included. It clicked into place with a satisfying snick.

A paper target was about fifteen yards down the lane. Rex and Nadia put on their ear protection. Nadia stood back, giving Rex plenty of room. He took a wide-legged stance, put both hands on the gun, stretched out his arms and took aim. But his hands were shaking, and perspiration had broken out on his upper lip and forehead despite the range’s cool temperature. For a few moments, he thought he wouldn’t be able to shoot at all. He thought his stomach would rebel. But somehow, he managed to squeeze off the first shot, then another and another.

That was when the panic started welling up inside his chest. It was the sound of the gunfire, he realized. In the four years he’d been a bounty hunter, he had never discharged his weapon. He’d drawn it and intimidated people with it, as he had Jethro Banner just a couple of days ago. But he hadn’t actually squeezed the trigger until just now.

He laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection and stepped back.

“Let’s see how you did.” It was Andy Arquette, who’d approached while Rex was shooting. Andy pushed the button that would bring the paper target close for inspection. “Haven’t seen you around here before. Name’s Andy Arquette.”

It appeared that Andy didn’t recognize him, Rex thought. Good. “Dennis Blankenship.” The two men shook hands. “This is my wife, Freesia.” Hell, Nadia didn’t look like a Freesia. Ace had a damnable sense of humor.

She mustered a smile and a quick handshake.

The paper target arrived. Rex didn’t even want to look at it, because he’d practically shot at the thing with his eyes closed. But when he did look, he saw that three of his five shots had actually hit—one in the arm, one in the abdomen, one in the thigh.

“Ooh, that guy’s hurting,” Andy said charitably. He was a tall, skinny guy with straight black hair. Rex didn’t like the way he was looking at Nadia.

“I’ve never shot this gun before,” Rex said, feeling he needed to rationalize his lousy marksmanship.

“Why don’t you give it a try…Freesia,” Andy said. Something about his tone bothered Rex. Was there a slight challenge to the suggestion?

“It’s an awfully big gun for a lady,” Rex said, trying to give Nadia an out. She’d said she didn’t want to shoot.

But she surprised him. “I’ll give it a try.” With the push of a button she sent the target out to the same distance at which Rex had shot it. Then, after a short hesitation, she pushed the button again, sending it even farther.

“You sure?”

Wordlessly she put on her ear protection, and Rex followed suit. Rather than the wide-legged stance Rex had taken, she stepped one foot back and planted it in a wide lunge. Then she aimed, sighting down the barrel with one eye, her face a mask of total concentration.

She pulled the trigger, then kept on pulling it until the magazine was empty. Though the gun had a colossal kick, Nadia hardly seemed to notice it. Her unconventional posture seemed to work well for her.

She laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection, then pushed the button to bring the target close once again.

Rex’s blood drained to his feet when he got a good look at the target. Every one of Nadia’s shots had hit the paper man in the head.

“Damn.” Andy barely breathed the word. “Freesia, you’re not a member here, are you?”

“No, just a guest.”

“We could sure use you on our coed team. Lemme show you around—maybe y’all will want to join.”

“Sure, we’d love to look around,” Nadia said. That was why they’d come, after all—to nose around, find out if anyone had seen Peter recently.

Rex packed up the Magnum.

“You can check that into a locker if you don’t want to carry it around,” Andy said. “The lockers are free.”

“That’s all right, I’ll keep it,” Rex replied.

Andy showed them around the building. They’d already seen most of it, except for a small lounge area, which was currently empty. “Members are encouraged to socialize here—but only after they’re done shooting for the day. The owners are very strict about alcohol use.”

They went through a set of double glass doors to the outdoor range. Two men in camouflage with an arsenal of hunting rifles stood around, discussing the merits of their guns, but otherwise it was quiet.

“There’s a trap range on the other side of that earth barricade, and also a forty-yard tin-can range.”

They walked a little farther until they reached a small metal shed near a gate. Andy led them toward it and opened the door. “We keep reflective vests stored in here for the members’ convenience. We recommend you wear them. The wilderness area is over four hundred acres, and you never know who might be out here with a gun. You don’t want to be mistaken for a wild pig.”

They donned the neon orange vests and walked into the wilderness as Andy explained about the bountiful dove, quail, ducks and pheasants the members bagged. “Rabbit and squirrel are fair game year round,” he added with a grin that set Rex’s teeth on edge. “Good eatin’.”

They tromped farther out. Rex kept looking for an opening, a way he could casually ask about Peter, but he didn’t trust Andy, who seemed far too friendly, so he had to proceed with caution.

Andy pointed out the crumbling old mansion. “Game likes to hide in there,” Andy said. “One time during a javelina hunt, I cornered something in there with red eyes, and I thought I had me a pig. It turned out to be a possum.”

“They make a good stew,” Rex said, trying to get into the spirit of the conversation, though hunting animals had never appealed to him. He found it much more sporting to hunt something with an equivalent level of intelligence to his.

“So, who referred you to the Payton Gun Club?” Andy asked conversationally.

“Ace McCullough,” Rex answered. “He’s been a member a long time.”

“I’ve heard of him, of course,” Andy said. “He’s kind of a legend. Never met him, though.”

“I know another guy who’s a member here,” Rex said. “Peter Danilov?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I know Peter. He’s out here a lot.”

Was there just the tiniest hesitation when Andy answered? “You know, I tried to get hold of that guy recently, and the number I had for him was no good. I thought maybe he’d moved away. Has he been around lately?”

“Yeah, I saw him a coupla weeks ago,” Andy said. “When I see him again, I’ll tell him to get in touch with you.”

“And that friend of his, Vlad—ah, hell, I can’t remember his last name.”

“I know who you’re talking about. I couldn’t tell you his last name, either—all those Russian names sound alike to me,” he added in a good-ol’-boy twang that didn’t fool Rex.

Andy made a show of checking his watch. “Oh, hell, I gotta go. Y’all just take your time, have a good look around. Freesia, we’d love to have you on our team. You too, Dennis,” he added as an afterthought.

Yeah, right. Maybe Rex would join the club after all. With some practice he could at least learn to shoot a paper man with some degree of accuracy, even if he couldn’t shoot a real one.

“So,” Nadia said as they scuffed their way along a faint path that wove through an open field of tall prairie grasses, “Peter’s been here recently. If we had Vlad’s last name…”

“We might be able to weasel it out of the front desk guy,” Rex said, just as something whizzed by his left ear.

His reaction was instinctual and instantaneous. He threw Nadia onto the ground and fell on top of her. The distant report of a high-caliber rifle reached his ears before he’d finished falling.