Читать книгу In Too Deep - Sharon Dunn - Страница 15

Sierra hurried along the beach. Her friend’s cabin was set back from the shore, nestled in some trees. The terrain around this part of the lake was more treacherous and not as developed as it was closer to town.

She was determined to find out what Joseph’s involvement was with those two men. Was he a rival drug dealer, and it somehow benefited him to keep her alive? That assumption didn’t seem to fit his gentle demeanor.

They entered a forested area. She sprinted along a path that could barely be called a trail. The cabin, surrounded by trees, came into view. Her friend had wanted a place that was low profile to get away to write and pray.

It must have been three or four in the morning. The sun wouldn’t be up for another couple of hours.

The cabin was primitive, with only a generator for electricity. She found the key hidden in the coffee can behind a bush. She pushed the door open and glanced back at Joseph. He looked like he’d been dragged behind a truck.

She touched her own hair self-consciously. She probably looked just as bad.

He stared down at his muddy shirt. “Yeah, neither of us is exactly ready for prom night.”

She laughed. He’d picked up on what she was thinking without her having to say anything. He had a nice smile...whoever he was.

She gritted her teeth. Was all that charm just to lure kids into the dark world of drugs? She hoped not.

She stepped inside. “I’ll build a fire. There should be some canned goods in the cupboard.”

Though her clothes had dried out somewhat, she still felt soggy and chilled. Within minutes, the fire sparked to life and heat filled the room. She collapsed in one of the overstuffed chairs that faced the fire.

Joseph spoke to her from the kitchen. “Looks like there’s beans and peaches. Unless you want me to heat something up.”

She touched her growling stomach. “Anything would be nice.” She closed her eyes, feeling like she might cry. Because they welcomed at-risk kids into youth group, she was used to sticky situations. She had seen her own share of violence when she’d stepped into the dark world of drug use. She wanted to help these kids the way she had been helped all those years ago. But she’d never had her life threatened like it had been tonight.

Joseph moved around the kitchen opening and shutting cupboards. The kitchen was only partially visible from where she sat.

He emerged holding two glasses of water. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

She took the glass. He sat down in the other chair and stared at the fire, twisting the glass of water in his hand. “There’s a little cookstove in there. I’ll heat something up for us. If you like, I can make you a warm cup of tea.”

His kindness seemed so genuine. Was he buttering her up for some reason? Drug dealers were good at winning people over. She supposed if he had wanted to harm her, though, he would have done it by now.

She took a sip of her water. The cool liquid traveled down her throat and splashed in her empty stomach. She tilted the glass and took a bigger swallow. “Hot food and tea sounds really good. Let me catch my breath and I’ll help you.”

He gulped down his water.

Her muscles were heavy with fatigue, and she longed for sleep.

Joseph held the empty glass and stared at the fire. “Some crazy night, huh?”

She glanced over at him. She could see why all the teen girls had a crush on him. He was tall. The sun had created honey-colored highlights in his brown wavy, shoulder-length hair. His brown eyes were the color of dark chocolate, and his voice held just the hint of a Southern accent. His skin was deeply tanned. He looked like a surfer who had gotten lost on the way to the coast.

She could feel herself becoming guarded. His question was meant to open up a conversation. He was probing for information for some reason. “Yeah, it was a crazy night.”

He straightened in his chair and stared at the floor for a long moment. “I don’t know what you think about me. But please believe me, I don’t want you to come to any harm.”

He had pulled her from danger more than once. And though he’d had an opportunity to harm her, he had kept her safe. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

He turned to face her. “Why were you out there?”

She watched his unwavering gaze as a tiny bit of trust grew inside her.

“Like I said, I was out there to get a kid. I talked him out of getting involved with the drug trade. I’m not sure why he ran. I’m worried about his safety, but I’m also concerned that he decided to throw in with the drug dealers after all. Those dealers must have shown up early. I thought I had time to get him out.”

Why would he ask the same question over and over, expecting a different answer? That sort of questioning technique was something a cop would do. Was it possible Joseph was on the other side of the law?

“Do you know why the guy in the baseball hat tried to strangle and drown you?”

Yeah, he was definitely acting like a cop. Her whole body convulsed when the memory of nearly dying rose to the surface. She wrapped her arms over her chest.

Joseph reached out and touched her arm. “You’re safe now.” He rubbed her forearm in a soothing way. His touch calmed her. His kindness seemed to break down even more walls.

Joseph put his empty glass on the wood floor. The fire in the fireplace crackled.

She took in a breath, appreciating that he waited until she was ready to talk. “That second man, the one who came out on shore and then disappeared into the trees when we were in the boat—”

“I didn’t get a good look at him. I was trying to start the boat.”

“I saw him earlier in the forest.” A chill penetrated her skin. “He had drugs in a satchel. He was holding a brick in his hand.”

Joseph sat up a little straighter. “Really? What else do you remember about him?”

“Not a lot. Getting shot at kind of wipes things from your memory.” She touched her own wrist. “He had this big gold watch on the hand that held the brick.”

Joseph leaned toward her, his eyes growing wide. “You think you would recognize him?”

She still shuddered at the memory. So much trauma had happened since that moment. She tried to recall the man’s features. “I think if I saw him again I might.” She rose to her feet. “You ask a lot of questions for a guy who runs a skateboard shop.” And carried a gun.

He shrugged. “That other guy seemed bent on your destruction. I was trying to figure out why it was happening...if it will keep happening until that guy is behind bars.”

She paced as anxiety caused her to tense up. The man she’d seen in the forest must be important to the drug trade. Even when they got safely back to town, her life might be in danger. “I should go to the police. They have files, photographs of drug dealers. If I saw him again, maybe it would jog my memory. I got an even closer look at the guy with the baseball hat.”

Joseph didn’t respond.

Every time she mentioned the police, Joseph fell silent. Old suspicions rose to the surface. The words she’d just spoken settled around her. This was all too much. She rested her palm against her face.

Joseph’s voice was filled with compassion as he rose to his feet. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Meaning that I’ll be left alone, right?” She shook her head, still trying to fathom what all this meant.

Joseph squeezed her hand. “Why don’t you sit? I’ll go heat us up some water and food. Then we’ll be back on our way to Scenic View.”

He hadn’t answered her question. “I’ll have to leave a note for my friend so she doesn’t think elves came in and raided her pantry and took her bikes.”

Sierra closed her eyes and listened to Joseph bustling around in the kitchen. He was still being evasive with her. She tensed. More than anything, she wanted to believe that the violence of the night was an isolated incident and that she would be able to go back to life as normal.

Predawn light warmed Joseph’s face as they pedaled the mountain bikes down the trail that led back into Scenic View. The food had revived him somewhat, but he was beyond exhausted, and he had to open the shop in a few hours so he could keep up appearances of being a mild-mannered store manager.

Sierra was talking about going to the police. If one of the local cops was feeding info to the drug network, it could put Sierra in even more danger. He had a choice to make. Could he trust her enough to let her in on his cover and tell her why they needed to leave the police out of this? She probably suspected already that he wasn’t who he said he was.

He stopped on the flat part of the trail to catch his breath. Sierra followed ten yards behind him. She rounded the hill and sailed down the trail toward him.

Sierra braked beside him and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She was pretty in an unconventional way. The thin nose and slanted eyes made her look fragile, like a porcelain doll. He admired Sierra. Whatever suspicions she harbored about Trevor, it was clear she cared about him and the other kids she worked with.

In the distance, the outskirts of Scenic View were visible. The resort hotel built on the lakefront towered over everything. There were only a few boats on the lake at this early hour. Washed in the warm glow of early morning light, the water shimmered.

Mention of the large-faced gold watch led Joseph to believe Sierra had seen the man DEA had been tracking for years, a dangerous man who would go to all lengths not to be identified, judging from the way the man in the baseball hat had gone after her. He had a feeling he should stick close to her for her protection. She could help with his investigation, but not if something happened to her.

“So, do you have a job you need to get to?”

She shook her head. “I work from home. I’m a bookkeeper.”

“You mind hanging out at the shop until we’re sure this whole thing has blown over?”

She glanced at him, and he saw the fear behind her eyes. “I’m still worried about Trevor. I at least need to make some calls and tell the police he’s missing.”

“Why don’t you start by calling around from the shop?”

She shrugged and then her expression grew pensive. “I can’t live my life like a captive. I’ll just go to the police. They can help me.”

“Sure, I suppose.” He didn’t need the local cops sniffing around him or his shop. He pushed off on the bike. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

The wheels whirred up and down the hills until the landscape flattened out and they came to the edge of town. This was an older part of town. The houses were built on bigger lots but were more run-down.

In his short time living here, the town seemed to be a place of contrast. Between rich and lower class. Between old and showy.

The drug problem here was bad and had escalated in recent months. Both bored kids with disposable incomes looking for a thrill and kids trapped in the cycle of poverty were targets. Scenic View was believed to be the hub for drug distribution throughout the Northwest.

They pedaled down the street.

Joseph swung around to the alley of the skateboard shop. He lived in the apartment above the shop. After opening the lower level of the shop so they could push the bikes in to keep them from being stolen, he headed up the stairs. Sierra followed behind him.

He opened the door and stepped inside, hurrying to pick up some workout clothes he’d left on the couch. Glancing around, he realized that his place looked like a total bachelor pad, with dishes in the sink and sports equipment piled in the corner. Why did it matter to him what she thought of his place?

He scooted a box of his stuff out of the way, laughing nervously. “Still haven’t finished unpacking.”

“It’s nice. Cozy,” she said. “And your commute time to work is close to perfect.”

He pointed for her to sit down on the couch. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get a couple hours’ sleep before I have to open up the shop.” Once his clerk came in, he would have to retrieve his boat. “Why don’t we wait on contacting the police. I can stick close to you for a little while until we know that guy won’t be after you anymore.” Though he didn’t want to alarm her—Sierra could potentially identify a man they’d been tracking for years—chances were, her life was still in danger.

She studied him for a moment. “I could use some rest, I guess.”

He hurried over to a closet and pulled out a blanket. “Be my guest. Take the couch.”

“Do you have a landline? I want to make a few calls about Trevor first,” she said.

“In the kitchen.” If she didn’t locate Trevor, she’d probably call the police about him. He couldn’t see the harm in that—the kid needed to be found—as long as she didn’t get the cops poking around his life and figuring out he was undercover.

Joseph stepped down the hallway and collapsed on his bed. He listened to Sierra’s soft voice as she talked on the phone. His jaw tensed. He walked a tightrope here. Sierra was going to need some level of protection. If she knew he was undercover, they could come up with a ruse as to why they were together. She was working for him. Or they were an item.

Out in the living room, things had gone silent. She must have lain down to sleep.

Joseph pulled a pay-as-you-go phone out of his bureau drawer. His work required that he always keep an extra around. He dialed a number and explained the situation to his handler.

“It is your call. If you think you can trust her not to blow your cover,” said the handler. “Clearly, she’s important to the investigation. Maybe her memory would be jogged if we got her to sit down with a sketch artist.”

“I think I can trust her.” He clicked the phone off and closed his eyes. It took him only minutes to drift off to sleep.

Sometime later, the ringing of the phone woke him with a start. He heard Sierra’s voice, this time filled with panic as she talked.

She must have given his number to the people she’d called about Trevor. His chest squeezed tight. Judging from the tone of her voice, something bad had happened.

Sierra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Trevor, where are you?”

“I’m in trouble, Miss M. You need to come and get me. I can’t explain. I’m at Leman’s junkyard. Please hurry.” The line went dead.

She hung up the phone with a trembling hand. Was Trevor’s plea sincere, or was she being set up? The anguish in his voice seemed very real.

Joseph spoke from the hallway where he stood. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Trevor. He’s in trouble.” She turned to face him. “I need to go get him.”

“How did he know to call my number?”

“I gave this number out to the people I called when I was looking for him. He must have gotten in touch with one of them first.” She rested her palm on her chest, where her heart beat erratically. “I have to go.”

“This could be a setup.”

“I know. I also know Trevor’s character and how hard he worked to get sober. I couldn’t live with myself if he was sincere and I left him out to dry.”

“It could be a dangerous situation. Why don’t you let me go?”

“Trevor trusts me.”

“I’m going with you, then,” Joseph said. “You don’t have a car, anyway.”

“I could just borrow yours.” Relief mixed with guilt as she stared into Joseph’s brown eyes. “What about the shop?” The truth was, she would feel better having Joseph’s help. She was still shaken by their run through the forest and being shot at.

“I can call my clerk and tell him to come in early and open up.” He grabbed a denim jacket off the rack where he hung his coats. “Take this. Looks like a chilly morning out there.” He left the room and returned a moment later, wearing a jacket and holding a phone.

“Do you always keep a spare phone around?”

He grinned. “It’s a Boy Scout thing. Always be prepared.” Then he pressed in some numbers on the phone and pointed toward the landline phone. “Make note of the number Trevor called from the caller ID.”

When she checked the number, she realized it wasn’t Trevor’s regular number. More cause for alarm. She wrote it down. Sierra listened while Joseph spoke to the clerk. Nothing in his tone let on that they were facing an urgent situation. “Listen, Jake, something has come up. If you could come in half an hour early and open up the shop, that would be great.”

Joseph listened for a moment and then said, “Okay, thanks.” He hung up the phone and gazed at Sierra.

His eyes seemed to look right through her. There was something he wasn’t saying. He hurried down the hallway and returned a moment later without explanation. They headed out the door, down to his Jeep.

She tensed.

What if they were stepping into a trap?

She still didn’t know why Trevor had run off down at Fisherman’s Crest. She didn’t know where the boy’s loyalties lay. But she did know that she had to give the kid the benefit of the doubt, if there was any chance at all for him to turn his life around. Last night and this morning, when she’d talked to him on the phone, she’d detected the anguish in his voice.

Joseph twisted the key in the ignition. “You’re going to have to give me directions.”

“Head toward the north side of town. Take a left off State Street and follow the road out of town.”

“Easy peasy,” said Joseph.

She appreciated how calm he seemed to be. It helped her to relax, as well, as the morning sun warmed the interior of the car. Maybe this would just be a simple pickup. Sometimes teenagers tended to be dramatic when there was no reason to be.

She glanced over at Joseph as they came to the edge of town. He drove past fields filled with cows, and the road changed from gravel to dirt. They drove for a long time without seeing another dwelling. This place was pretty remote.

Then the junkyard, surrounded by a high fence, came into view. Buses and single-wide trailers served as part of the fence. The man who had owned the junkyard, Peter Leman, had died two years before, leaving no heirs. The county had not had the funds to clean up the area. The No Trespassing signs had not stopped teens from using it as a place to hang out.

“The front gate is locked. We’ll have to park outside and walk in.”

Joseph pulled off the road and killed the engine. “This is a big place.”

“I have a pretty good idea where he might be.” She pushed open her door. “There’s a gap in the fence where we can get in.”

As she hurried around to the side of the junkyard, her heartbeat kicked up several notches. She slipped in between a bus and board fence.

Joseph followed her. He stood beside her, his hand slipped into his open jacket. She saw then why he had gone into the bedroom. He had a gun in a shoulder holster. He thought they might be stepping into something violent, too.

Hadn’t he lost his first gun somewhere on their run through the forest? Maybe it was just for protecting his business, but she wondered why the manager of a skateboard shop would have two guns.

A wall of partially crushed cars blocked her view of the rest of the junkyard. “This place is an accident waiting to happen, but we haven’t been able to keep the kids from coming here.” Sierra maneuvered around the wall of cars.

“I don’t get it. Scenic View has all kinds of recreational possibilities. Why come here?”

“I think it’s the danger factor. Didn’t you like adrenaline when you were a teenager?”

“Still do.” He offered her a brief smile, raising his eyebrows.

The moment of humor that passed between them lightened the tension she felt. She zigzagged through the junkyard, past rows of appliances and piles of tires. There were several sheds on the property that Sierra knew contained old books, magazines and newspapers. Peter Leman had been the ultimate hoarder.

Joseph tilted his head to look up at a mountain of twisted and intertwined pieces of metal. He shook his head. “It’s like an amusement park for junk collectors.”

“There is a big pipe at the far end of the fence where kids hang out.” She glanced around, not seeing any signs of anyone else in the junkyard.

As they made their way through the labyrinth of junk, wind blew around them, causing the metal to creak. Tarps that covered piles of junk flapped in the wind.

She pointed. “The pipe is just on the other side of that motor home.”

He crouched by the motor home. She slipped in behind him, unsure what was going on here. A hundred frantic thoughts zinged through Sierra’s head. Was Trevor safe? Was he even here?

Had the drug dealers set him up to make the call, or had his emergency been an emotional one? Had he decided to ally himself with the dealers after all?

Again, Joseph touched his chest where the gun was. “Let’s take this slow.”

His action sent a fresh dose of terror through her. He was anticipating violence.