Chapter Thirteen
The team had taken position approximately fifty yards from the mine. Cliff peered through a pair of binoculars. No change from the last time he checked three minutes ago.
Crowley and Scarlett were just inside the mine entrance. Both moving and apparently talking, though what they said didn’t carry down the hill to where Cliff, Detective James, two Carson City P.D. officers, Sheriff Eberhardt, his deputies and the hostage negotiator crouched in the brush or behind trees.
On the hill to their left, a SWAT sniper and spotter kept Crowley in their sights. Per orders, the sniper’s assault rifle was loaded with rubber bullets. They would not risk Scarlett becoming collateral damage.
The good news: she was alive and, for now at least, unharmed. The bad news: Crowley held her captive.
Tensions ran high among the team. This was a waiting game. Cliff despised feeling helpless, but, after countless stakeouts during his years with Reno Drug Investigations, he knew the value of maintaining a cool head. The slightest thing could set Crowley off, and the results were guaranteed to be disastrous.
They’d seen his pistol when he’d waved it around, proclaiming to one and all he was armed. Yes, he’d spotted them. He may not know exactly how many of them there were or about the sniper, but he was no fool.
He was also strung out on drugs. Cocaine or crack was Cliff’s guess. The telltale signs were easy to spot. Erratic behavior. Restlessness. Paranoia.
Sarge nudged Cliff’s hand, offering his silent support. “I know, boy. I don’t like it, either.”
“Bring me Ruby! Now. You hear me?” Crowley’s shout carried loud and clear down the hill.
Everyone on the team instantly froze.
“You got thirty minutes.” Crowley emerged from the mine entrance. “If Ruby’s not here by then, something’s going to happen to her pretty sister. And I guarantee you won’t like it.”
Cliff raised the binoculars to his eyes, bringing Crowley into focus.
The sheriff’s radio crackled to life. “I have a shot,” the SWAT sniper said.
“No!” Cliff shouted.
At the same moment, the sheriff ordered, “Hold your fire. The woman’s in the way.”
Crowley had pushed Scarlett out in front of him, his hand gripping her arm like a steel vise. Her clothes were torn, her face dirty and her hair disheveled. Otherwise, she appeared unharmed.
“He finally figured out he has the wrong sister.” Detective James’s statement was issued matter-of-factly. There was nothing matter-of-fact about his hunkered-down stance. He looked like a bull ready to charge.
“She probably told him. I would in her shoes.”
Cliff would try anything to secure her freedom. Perhaps Scarlett thought Crowley would release her once he learned of his mistake.
Instead he was using Scarlett to get what he really wanted. Ruby.
“Thirty minutes,” Crowley repeated. Then he did something everyone had hoped he wouldn’t. He shoved Scarlett to her knees and put the barrel of the pistol to her head. “Or she dies.”
Detective James swore ripely.
The hostage negotiator raised the bullhorn to his mouth. He was a middle-aged man with glasses. Hardly the type one would take for a trained crisis-situation interventionist. Of the entire team, he remained the most calm and collected. Then again, he had to.
“Look, Crowley,” he said, his tone friendly and helpful. “You don’t want to hurt her. It will only make things worse for you. Murder on top of kidnapping. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison. Think of your family.”
“I want Ruby!” Crowley wrenched Scarlett’s arm.
She let out a cry.
“Shut up!” He pushed her head down, then pressed the pistol to the back of her neck. “Better hurry.”
Cliff tried not to react. Instead he studied the area immediately surrounding the mine entrance.
“Crowley, listen to me,” the negotiator said. “Your father will be here soon.”
The senior Crowley had been contacted the moment it was confirmed his son had Scarlett. Cliff wasn’t sure what they thought the man could do. His relationship with his son wasn’t the stuff of Hallmark greeting-card commercials and could well push Crowley over the edge.
That wasn’t a chance Cliff was willing to take.
“My father?” Crowley screamed and waved his gun in the air. “I don’t want that son of a bitch anywhere near me!”
Scarlett had curled into a ball on the ground at Crowley’s feet, as if by making herself small he wouldn’t notice her. He did and kicked her, causing her to cry out again.
Cliff’s blood heated to a rapid boil. His hand inched toward his own gun.
“Stay cool, man.”
Cliff wasn’t sure if Detective James was talking to him or to Crowley. Maybe to both of them.
“I have a clean shot.” The sniper’s voice exploded from the radio.
This could be their last chance. Still, Cliff didn’t like the odds. Crowley had proven his unpredictability and propensity to violence. If they missed or failed to incapacitate him, he could take his rage out on Scarlett.
Tear gas might be a better option. Getting close enough to deliver it without Crowley picking them off was the problem.
He turned to James. “What do you think? He’s your perp.”
The detective didn’t hesitate. “Take the shot.”
“Fire.” Sheriff Eberhardt commanded.
At the same instant, Crowley bent down to grab Scarlett. The bullet split the air where he’d been standing an instant earlier. Crowley hit the ground near Scarlett. She screamed and covered her ears. The next two shots missed Crowley by inches.
He was too close to Scarlett!
“Cease-fire,” Eberhardt hollered into his radio. “Repeat, cease-fire.”
Damn, it couldn’t have gone more wrong.
Crawling on all fours, Crowley dragged Scarlett back inside the mine. Once there, he yelled down to them. “Bring Ruby to me now or her sister’s a dead woman.
One of the CCPD officers answered his ringing phone. “Crowley’s father is twenty minutes out.”
The negotiator wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I suggest we wait for him.”
“I have a better idea.” Cliff straightened.
“No heroics,” Sheriff Eberhardt warned.
Cliff nodded at the negotiator. “You keep him distracted. Lure him out of the mine. Lie to him. Tell him that Ruby’s on her way and wants to see her sister first before the exchange is made.”
The sheriff looked displeased. “What are you planning, Dempsey?”
“Just be ready. And watch for my signal.” Cliff started forward through the brush, Sarge following him.
“Come back here.” The sheriff’s order was delivered through gritted teeth. He wouldn’t shout. Crowley might hear.
Cliff kept going. He didn’t need binoculars or a map. He’d come to the Windfall Claim countless times as a boy with his father and then as a teenager with friends.
The shaft opening was five feet tall at the center. Four feet wide. It was built into the side of a hill thick with ponderosa pines and scrub oaks. Most importantly, a rocky ledge jutted out from the top.
It wasn’t large. Just the right size to hold a man and a dog.
The footpath leading up the back side of the mine had deteriorated in the decade since Cliff last climbed it, making the going rough. Even with only three legs, Sarge managed better than him and was waiting at the top when Cliff got there.
He was tempted to fire off a smart retort but didn’t. Too close. Crowley might hear.
Inch by inch, Cliff crawled to the ledge, making as little noise as possible. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see the mine entrance beneath him. No need. Crowley was in there.
Sarge knew it, too. Nostrils quivering, the dog stretched his nose out to catch the scent. When he emitted a soft whine, Cliff laid a hand on his back, quieting him.
Down in the ravine, the hostage negotiator attempted to engage Crowley in dialog. Half of Crowley’s responses made no sense, his grip on reality slipping. Once, he called Scarlett by the name of an earlier alleged victim. Another time, by his brother’s name.
Cliff continued moving closer to the edge. When he was in prime position, slowly, very slowly, he raised his arm in the air.
“Crowley,” the hostage negotiator’s voice rang out. “I just got a call. Ruby’s on her way. She’ll be here any minute.”
The team had seen Cliff’s signal and knew he was ready.
“She won’t agree to the exchange without first making sure her sister’s okay. You need to bring Scarlett out.”
“And have you take another shot at me?” Crowley roared. “Like hell.”
Cliff lay utterly still, listening. He had to admit the negotiator was good. Using Crowley’s own words against him and playing on his weaknesses, he eventually convinced Crowley to step out of the mine and bring Scarlett with him.
“Where is she?” Crowley demanded. “Where is Ruby?”
“Two minutes,” the negotiator said. “Just wait.”
Cliff saw the car before the team.
The black Lincoln looked out of place traveling the winding mountain road. It pulled to a stop behind a CCPD squad car. A man wearing a suit emerged from the rear driver’s side and strode confidently toward the hostage negotiator.
Crowley’s father. He could be none other.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Crowley shouted.
“Your father wants to talk to you,” the negotiator said.
Crowley wrapped an arm around Scarlett’s neck. Forcing her to walk in front of him, he used her as a shield. Now that they were out in the open, Cliff had an unobstructed view—and he didn’t like what he saw. Crowley’s gun was shoved firmly against Scarlett’s temple.
“Son.” Crowley’s father called out. The negotiator had given him the bullhorn. “Come down, now. Don’t do anything rash. We can fix this.”
Just as he’d had his attorneys find a tiny procedural error and get the charges dropped? Paid off the girls in college so they wouldn’t testify? Turned a blind eye when his older son abused his younger one?
“Screw you, Dad.”
“Listen, son. You need help.”
Crowley continued to hurl obscenities and accusations at his father and demand that Ruby be brought to him. Cliff didn’t like the way the young man sounded. He was unraveling at an alarming rate.
Perhaps Scarlett also sensed her captor’s fragile mental state and was desperate to get away, for she suddenly started to struggle.
Ten feet separated Cliff and the two figures scuffling below him. He could jump. But what about Scarlett? If Crowley’s gun went off...
There was little time left to act. It was now or not at all.
Cliff climbed swiftly to his feet. Beside him, Sarge also rose. God willing, the team would hold their fire.
Wait...wait...
The opportunity Cliff had been waiting for came. Scarlett broke free from Crowley and ran.
Leveling his gun at her, he screamed, “Bitch, I told you to stop.”
Pulling his own weapon from his holster, Cliff leaped off the ledge. For a split second, he sailed through the air, Sarge right beside him. Then, the rocky ground came rushing up to meet them. Cliff landed with a bone crunching thud, tucked, rolled and rose. He tackled Crowley from behind, and they both went down.
Cliff didn’t hold the advantage for long. Crowley was strong and hyped on whatever substance he’d taken. He flipped Cliff over onto his back and pinned him by the shoulders.
Cliff felt the cold barrel of Crowley’s gun press into the soft flesh beneath his jaw.
“Drop it.” Spittle sprayed from Crowley’s mouth.
Cliff let his gun fall from his hand. He needed the precious seconds his surrender would buy him.
“You’re a dead man,” Crowley hissed in Cliff’s ear.
“Not today.” Cliff braced himself. “Fass!”
A low, lethal growl proceeded the attack. Crowley’s head snapped back as if grabbed by a giant hand.
Not a hand. The jaws of a dog.
Sarge had a hold of Crowley between his neck and shoulder, and he wasn’t letting go. Only the command to release from Cliff would accomplish that.
Crowley thrashed and screamed. Dropping his gun, he reached behind him for Sarge and grabbed handfuls of fur. Sarge wasn’t fazed and held tight, his growls intensifying.
Cliff squirmed out from under Crowley and retrieved both guns. A glance to his left assured him Scarlett was all right. By then, the team was rushing up the hill. Only when Crowley was surrounded, and every available weapon pointed at him, did Cliff command Sarge to release Crowley.
“Lass es. Hier.”
The dog responded immediately and trotted over to where Cliff stood to receive his petting.
“Good boy.”
Scarlett ran to Cliff and threw herself at him. “Thank you,” she cried, her whole body trembling.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. I just want to go home.”
“You will. But not till after you’ve been questioned.”
“Do I have to?”
“I’ll call ahead. Have Ruby meet you at the station.”
One of the officers escorted Scarlett down the hill.
Crowley had been dragged upright and handcuffed. “What about my neck?” he demanded. “I’m bleeding.”
“You’ll receive proper care.” Sheriff Eberhardt removed a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to Crowley’s wound.
“That dog bit me. It’s police brutality.” He glared at Cliff. “I’m going to sue. You, the county, the whole freakin’ state of Nevada.”
“Good luck with that,” Cliff said.
The deputies took Crowley away.
Sheriff Eberhardt came over to Cliff. “I assume we use your station to hold Crowley until transport arrives.”
“It’s all yours. We can question Scarlett next door in the community center.” He didn’t want her or Ruby anywhere near Crowley.
The sheriff glanced down at Sarge. “That’s some partner you have.”
“None better.”
He shook Cliff’s hand. “Nice working with you, Sheriff Dempsey. If you find yourself in my part of Washoe County, look me up.”
“Count on it.”
Cliff phoned Iva Lynn the moment he got to his SUV, breathing a sigh of relief when she told him Ruby was fine.
“You should know,” Iva Lynn said, “only because you’ll hear about it sooner or later, your aunt laid into Ruby. It was rough. She didn’t pull any punches.”
Not what he wanted to hear. “Great.”
“The TV crew filmed it.”
Even better. “Are they still in town?”
“Standing vigil outside the station. Along with three others. We’ve made national news.”
Could his day get any worse? “Thanks, Iva Lynn.”
“Your aunt wants to see you right away. I told her you’d be busy for a while.”
Apparently, it could get worse.
“Bring Ruby to the community center. She’ll have to be questioned along with her sister. And locate Will. Scarlett may be injured. Crowley definitely is. Have Will treat him first. If necessary, we’ll take them to the clinic, but I’d rather avoid another media mob scene if possible.”
“Right away.” Iva Lynn hesitated before contacting the town’s EMT. “You’ve made your father proud. Your grandfather, too, if he were alive.”
Cliff’s answer stuck in his throat. Not because of any sentimental flood of emotions, but because he didn’t deserve Iva Lynn’s praise.
He hadn’t learned. He’d made the same mistake as before. Crossing the line. Letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment. It had almost cost Scarlett her life.
After Crowley was picked up and the sisters questioned, Cliff would meet with his aunt and the town council and accept whatever punishment they saw fit to dispense.