Useless piece of shit … Dani realized that he had to be talking about Wade. That’s why Wade had dragged his feet the way he did. Why he went and hid the tapes.
“Anyway, nobody knows,” the Alpha man sniffed. “So don’t worry yourself. And even if they did … it doesn’t lead anywhere.” He looked at her and shrugged with a philosophical smirk. “Least it won’t anymore.”
They were going to kill her. That much was clear. Just like Trey. Fear pounded up inside her. She felt tears in the backs of her eyes, tears of helplessness and fear and the total futility of her situation. She didn’t want to show them to him. This bastard who had killed Trey and Ron and those others. She blinked them back as best she could. She begged herself not to give him the victory of seeing her cry.
“They’ll know,” she said back defiantly. “They’ll all know.”
“Hard to prove much,” the Alpha man said with a shrug, “when there’s not a trace in the world of anything left behind. And where you’re going …”
“Where I’m going, what? What are you going to do with me?” she demanded again.
“Like I said”—Robertson looked away again, “just enjoy the ride.”
The next few miles went by mostly in silence, heading east toward Greeley. Dani’s thoughts drifted. To her mom. How painfully she had deteriorated at the end—and Dani wasn’t even there. How sad she would be, wherever she was, to know Dani wouldn’t get to live out her life. Then she flashed to Wade. The worm. To betray her like this. To betray everything. So that’s why he impounded the tapes. They weren’t evidence; they were insurance. Insurance against getting caught. She gritted her teeth in disgust and looked out at the tops of wells as they passed by.
Bastard. They owned him, too.
The thought of him just looking the other way filled her with a deflating sense of sadness. Once, he was like a father to her. Until he just watched her mother die and took the house, her jewelry, whatever money they had. How helpless he had sounded the other night when he called. He knew what they were going to do to them, if they stayed. And he just hung up that phone.
He probably didn’t even raise a voice to stop it.
Suddenly they slowed. The turn signal went on. Dani’s heart jumped. She saw they were turning at the very spot where what they thought were oil tankers had pulled out onto the road, where she and Ty had thought there had been a well by the river. Ty had said there was some kind of water facility down there.
They called it the Falls …
Dani said, “I saw the trucks coming out of here,” hoping against hope that somehow Ty might still be listening. “From down by the river.”
Robertson ignored her. He just instructed the driver to loop down to the “plant.” He seemed to suggest that someone would be waiting for them there.
“What’s down here?” Dani pressed.
“Don’t you worry about it?” Robertson said. He spoke into the walkie-talkie. “You’ll find out soon enough. We’re on the road now,” he said into the receiver. “Are we all clear?”
“Roger that.” A scratchy voice came back. “We’re ready for you.”
Ready for what? Dani’s heart picked up with mounting dread.
The road was dirt, hard packed, and wide enough for the large trucks she and Ty saw to get through. It swung around to the left and then made a steady grade downhill to where Dani caught a glimpse of the Poudre River. The sign read, MID-RIVER HYDRO TREATMENT CENTER. She saw a building ahead. Actually, more of a large cylindrical tank made of beige-painted concrete, maybe four stories tall. A couple of attached huts were built out of it, and four of those large steel tankers were pulled up nearby. They’re not for oil, but for water, Ty had told her. Water.
They looped around in front of the building. There was only one other car around, a blue Audi; otherwise it seemed deserted. If people generally manned this facility, they surely weren’t around now. Maybe that was what they meant by, are we clear? The driver made a sweeping turn with the SUV and pulled up next to the Audi.
The car locks went up.
A man in a plaid shirt stepped out of the Audi. He had a high forehead, bald on top, and sunglasses.
“What happens now?” Dani asked Robertson.
“Now …?” He opened his door. “You’re a water girl, right? So, hey, now you ought to feel right at home.”
Dani saw a rounded concrete conduit maybe four feet in height stretching from the base of the cylindrical tank; then it went into a berm, presumably down to the river.
Robertson stepped out, and the man in the plaid shirt came up to him. Dani couldn’t hear what they were saying, then Robertson came back to her vehicle and opened her door.
What were they going to do to her?
“What is this, some kind of water treatment station?” Dani asked warily.
“You’ll find out,” Robertson said. “Out.”
She didn’t move, her wrists clasped, and held on to a strap on the seat in front of her.
“Get her out.” Robertson signaled to the driver. The man in front came and yanked her by the cord binding her wrists and Dani tumbled out of the car onto the ground.
“Ms. Whalen, I’m truly sorry it’s come to this,” the man in the plaid shirt said as he stepped up to her. “It’s not the kind of methods we usually use, but you’ve proven to be quite a nuisance, against all our warnings. Both here and back at home.”
What warnings …? she thought. Then it hit her. Wade?
“So, like most potential stumbling blocks, maybe it’s better just to get them out of the way up front. You know how these sorts of things only come up and bite you later on.”
“Who are you?” Dani asked.
“Not to worry about that. You’ve got far more crucial and immediate things to be concerned with about.”