Whiteside sat on the porch, his bleeding head bowed, his swollen right arm cradled in his lap, his left bound to it at the wrists by his own handcuffs. He had screamed at the pain as Danny had forced his broken arm into place. Now he trembled, sweat mixing with the blood from his nose and lips, forming pale-red streams down his chin.
Sean stood watching him. He’d asked if he could have a pistol to hold on Whiteside, to guard him. For a moment, Audra had doubted if her boy would have the nerve to aim a weapon at another person. Then she saw a new coldness in his eyes and she knew different. The realization had caused an ache in her heart that still echoed through her. Even so, she told him no. Whiteside wasn’t going anywhere.
Danny had found an old first-aid kit in the cabin’s basement and now he tended to the wound on Audra’s shoulder as Louise lay curled in her lap. Just a graze, he said, but it hurt like hell when he sprayed it with antiseptic. He packed the wound with gauze and pressed tape over the area to seal it in.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘It’ll need to be stitched when we get back to civilization, but you’ll survive till then.’
Danny went to stand up, but Audra said, ‘Hey.’
He crouched down next to her again.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I owe you … everything.’
He reached to her, brushed his fingers against her cheek. ‘Just take care of them. That’ll be enough.’
As Danny got to his feet, Audra beckoned to her son. Sean came to the porch and nestled in next to his mother. It caused a flare of pain for Audra to lift her arm and put it around him, but she did it anyway. She kissed the top of his head as he leaned into her.
Danny approached Whiteside, put one foot on the porch next to him, bent down to speak.
‘Where and when was the exchange?’ he asked.
‘Fuck you,’ Whiteside said.
Danny punched his devastated arm, and Whiteside squealed.
Louise buried her face in Audra’s bosom, but Sean watched. Audra pulled him in tight, guided his face away with her hand.
Danny took a knife from the sheath hooked to his belt, the one he’d taken from the old man’s cabin wall. He held it before Whiteside’s eyes, sunlight glinting on the metal. Then he grabbed the sheriff’s left ear, readied the blade.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘or I’ll show you why they call me Knife Boy.’
‘Four o’clock,’ Whiteside said through his teeth. ‘Halfway between Las Vegas and here. At a closed-down shopping mall off I-40.’
Danny released Whiteside’s ear and said, ‘That’s what, two hours away?’
‘About that.’
Danny looked at his watch, went quiet for a moment, then said, ‘It’s two, maybe two and a half hours back to Silver Water. We should go. Hand this piece of shit over to Mitchell.’
‘No,’ Audra said.
Danny looked at her, confused. ‘What?’
‘The exchange is two hours northwest of here at four p.m.’
‘So he says.’
‘What time is it now?’ she asked.
Danny looked at his watch again. ‘One forty.’
‘I can handle Whiteside,’ Audra said. She looked at the battered and rusted truck parked beside the cabin, then back at Danny. ‘Just help me get him into the cruiser and I’ll take him back. There’ll be a cage between him and us. He can’t hurt us anymore. You take the pickup and go to the exchange. Find those men. Then you ask them the question you asked the others, those cops who took your little girl.’
Danny held her stare for a moment, then turned his eyes away. ‘I already know the answer.’
‘No, you don’t,’ Audra said. ‘Not for sure.’
He exhaled, a quivering sigh. ‘Maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe I’ve got used to the idea of never finding those men.’
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Audra said. ‘You won’t have peace until you know.’
‘And if I ask them, and they don’t give me the right answer …’
He returned his gaze to hers and she realized he sought her permission, as if it could ever be hers to give.
‘Then you do what you have to do,’ she said.
58
DANNY WATCHED THE black SUV enter the empty parking lot through the grime on the pickup truck’s windshield. He checked his wristwatch: five minutes to four. He had arrived almost fifteen minutes before that. The old pickup had rattled and wheezed so much along the way that he’d feared it might not survive the journey. It didn’t matter now. If things went as he planned, he wouldn’t need the truck again.
The parking lot sprawled for hundreds of yards in all directions, its asphalt bleached pale gray by the sun. Half a mile from the interstate, it should have been jammed full of cars, shoppers coming and going with their money and their bags. Instead, the mall buildings huddled together like abandoned children. A property deal gone bad, no doubt a victim of the economic crash. Someone lost his shirt over this, Danny thought.
The SU V crawled across the parking lot toward his position. With its tinted windows, he couldn’t make out the occupants. Even with the dirt on the pickup’s glass, they would see him long before he saw them. He had arranged a pile of blankets on the passenger seat to give the impression someone might be huddled there. The assault rifle he had taken from the dead man’s floor lay within his reach.
Would he die today?
Danny thought he might. And he didn’t mind. So long as he did what needed doing. So long as he found out what he needed to know. So long as they paid.
The SUV stopped, facing the pickup, ten yards away. Danny waited and watched. So did the occupants of the SUV. He reached across to the passenger seat, pulled the rifle across his lap, the grip snug in his palm, his finger against the trigger guard. Going by his watch, a full minute passed before anything happened.
At last, the driver’s door of the SUV opened. More seconds passed before a large man with a shaved head and a black suit eased his bulk out of the car. Leaving the door open, he took slow steps toward the pickup. Danny counted them as he approached, judging the time it might take the other man to run back to the SUV if he fled. The big man stopped halfway between the vehicles, his open hands by his sides, his weight on both feet.
Danny wound down the driver’s window. The man tilted his head, squinting as he listened to the creak of the lowering glass. Another few seconds of silence. The man glanced back over his shoulder at the SUV, returned his gaze to the pickup.
Danny thought: Now.
He threw the door wide open, slipped out of the truck, hoisted the rifle up, and aimed it through the open window. The big man’s eyes widened and he made a panicked grab for the holster beneath his suit jacket.
‘Don’t,’ Danny called.
Maybe the man didn’t hear. Maybe he thought he could draw and aim fast enough. It didn’t matter either way, because the burst of rifle fire put him on his back, his pistol clattering across the asphalt.
Danny didn’t hesitate. He stepped around the open door and marched toward the SUV, ignoring the desperate gurgles and gasps of the man he had put down. As he neared the SUV, he heard a woman’s breathless voice.
‘Oh God,’ she said, ‘please God, no, no, no, oh God, no, oh God …’
He slowed as he neared the still-open driver’s door. Peering inside, he saw the woman, her body stretched over the cup holders and armrest, the pants pocket of her navy-blue business suit snagged on the gearstick, her hands on the steering wheel as she tried to drag herself across. Around forty, long red hair tied back to tame the curls. She blinked up at Danny.
‘Please don’t kill me,’ she said.
Danny looked into the rear of the car, saw no one else. ‘Where were you going to take them?’ he asked.
‘Las Vegas,’ the woman said. ‘There’s a party. A house in Summerlin.’
She told him the name, the owner of the house, the ringleader, and Danny pictured the face. An Internet billionaire, known for his philanthropy as well as his money.
‘Five years ago,’ Danny said. ‘Do you remember a little girl? Six years old. Black hair, dark eyes.’
The woman shook her head as she let go of the steering wheel. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘There’ve been so many.’
Danny pressed the rifle’s muzzle against the top of her head. She closed her eyes tight.
‘I don’t remember, I’m sorry, please don’t, please, please don’t …’