Tracked Through the Woods, page 16
Her father.
She quickly made the 911 call, explaining in a hushed whisper about a man with a gun holding her father hostage. She gave the woman the location to the best of her knowledge, using the highway marker she’d memorized years ago.
“Please stay on the line,” the woman said.
“I can’t. There could be others. Please send help as fast as possible.” Without waiting for a response, she disconnected from the line, then made one more call, this time to the Green Lake Sheriff’s department. She’d called 911 first thinking they might be closer, but she hoped deputies from both counties responded to the threat.
Liam and Garrett were likely home sleeping, so she quickly updated the dispatcher, letting him know that Liam and Garrett would know the location of the cabin. Once that call had been made, she shut her phone off and jammed it in her pocket.
That was the easy part. Now came the hard part. No way was she going to sit here and do nothing while Wyatt faced the danger alone.
There was no doubt in her mind he would sacrifice himself for her.
For her father, too. But the way things looked, both Wyatt and her dad were in grave danger. She silently acknowledged that if she went to the cabin unarmed, all three of them would die. She’d heard the gunman threaten to come after the woman, meaning her.
Yet what choice did she have? None.
Then she remembered the two gunmen Wyatt had taken out. Her pulse kicked up. Could she find one of their weapons? Yes! She took a deep breath and began making her way silently through the woods, moving faster than normal because she knew time was of the essence.
How long before the man inside the cabin simply shot Wyatt and her dad?
Minutes, not hours. And that was only if Wyatt was able to stall for time.
Yet despite her need to hurry, she was careful to keep an eye out for more shooters. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of them, and for all she knew there were more nearby.
Please, Lord, bless us by keeping all of us safe in Your care!
Thankfully, it didn’t take her too long to reach the spot where she’d seen the two gunmen go down. Creeping on her hands and knees, she searched the brush for his gun. It wasn’t easy as the darkness made it difficult to see much of anything. Still, she gently padded the ground as she moved toward a man’s body.
Just as she was losing hope, her fingers snagged on something heavy. She cautiously picked it up and lightly brushed off the damp leaves sticking to the metal.
Still on her hands and knees, she backed away from the body so that she was deeper in the woods. From there, she rose to a crouch and quickly made her way to the side of the cabin where the two bedrooms were located.
She’d gone through the window to escape Wyatt what seemed like eons ago. Now her goal was to crawl back inside the same way.
Finally she was positioned across from the bedroom window. She could hear deep voices coming from inside, which reassured her the window was still open.
She lightly ran across the clearing, then bent down near the window. The two male voices were louder now, and she could hear Wyatt trying to reason with the man he addressed as Trudeau, who must be the one holding her father.
Not Hawthorne? His identity didn’t matter to her right now, so she tucked the gun in her waistband, then carefully climbed through the window.
“There’s still time to turn yourself in.” Wyatt’s tone was calm. “Why risk killing a fed?”
“I’m killing a dirty fed,” the nasal voice corrected. She assumed he was Trudeau. “That’s how this is going to look by the time I’m finished with you and the others. Hawthorne trusts me, and already believes you’re dirty.”
“I know several local cops, including a sheriff who know the truth. They are not going to believe I did this and they will hunt you down,” Wyatt said firmly. “I told them all about the dirty fed inside the Bureau. It won’t take them long to finger you if they haven’t done so already. You already lied about your hernia surgery. That was obviously a sham. Give it up, Allan. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”
“Yeah, I have to admit I expected more from the Grave Digger,” Trudeau said in a disgusted tone. “But trust me, I’m good. I will make sure the evidence against you is so overwhelming that your local yokels will have no choice but to agree with my findings.”
Abby froze inside the bedroom for a long moment, then let her breath out in a soundless sigh. The voices had helped muffle any noise she’d made getting in through the window.
She pulled the gun from her waistband and crept carefully to the doorway.
“Call the woman and tell her to come here,” Trudeau said. “Or I’ll shoot the old man.”
Abby’s breath caught in her throat. They were running out of time!
“You’re going to shoot him whether I call Abby or not,” Wyatt said. “Meanwhile Abby is already on her way to safety.”
“Call her!” Trudeau’s voice rose sharply.
“I’m telling you, she’s already someplace safe.” Wyatt spread his hands. “Peter, do you want me to call Abby?”
“No.” Her father’s hoarse reply hit her like a ton of bricks.
She moved down the hall toward the main living space where Wyatt stood a little off to the side of the room to her right, near the wood-burning stove, which was not lit. As she stepped closer, she could see her dad was shivering in the cold, tied to a chair, but his gaze was resolute, as if he’d accepted his impending death.
Considering how a short man with dirty-blond hair had his gun pressed tightly against her dad’s temple, she couldn’t blame him. The way Trudeau stood to the side with his gun against her dad would make it difficult for her to get a clear shot at him.
She swallowed hard, moving another inch closer while trying to catch her dad’s eyes. He needed to be ready to pull away at the right time.
Her dad’s gaze seemed focused on Wyatt. Staring hard, she subtly tried to draw his attention, without giving herself away to Trudeau.
“Face it, Trudeau, it’s over,” Wyatt said. “Abby has escaped and you’ll be found guilty of murder.”
“Call her, or I’ll shoot you and use your phone to call her myself.” As if to demonstrate, he moved his weapon away from her father, aiming at Wyatt.
The moment Trudeau’s weapon moved away from her dad she fired the weapon in her hand, striking Trudeau in the abdomen. He doubled over, his face registering shock, but didn’t go down.
At the exact same time, her dad leaned sideways, tipping his chair over so that he was lying on the ground, his hands still tied behind his back. And Wyatt threw himself at Trudeau, who somehow managed to still hang on to his gun.
The two men struggled for the weapon and another gunshot rang out, making her jump.
Wyatt? She rushed forward, trying to get a clear shot at Trudeau. But then Wyatt yanked the gun from Trudeau’s grip and rolled off him. The dirty FBI agent fell lax onto the floor.
“Are you hurt?” She was torn between checking Wyatt for a gunshot wound and helping her father out of the chair.
“No, the shot went high.” He scrambled to his feet, holding the weapon on Trudeau, who was still groaning in pain from his belly wound. “Check your dad.”
She was already kneeling beside her father, trying to untie the knots holding him to the chair. Wyatt joined her, using his knife to cut through the binds while he kept an eye on Trudeau, who now appeared completely out of commission.
“Dad? Are you hurt?” She searched his gaze, running her hands down his arms and legs.
“Nothing serious.” Her dad grimaced and struggled to his feet. “You were supposed to be safe,” he accused.
“Tell me about it,” Wyatt muttered. “Although I had a feeling she’d do something like this.”
“I wasn’t leaving either of you, but I did call for help.” She couldn’t help looking at Trudeau. Yes, he was a bad guy, and would have killed her dad, Wyatt and her, too, without blinking an eye. Yet she felt guilty for shooting him.
Easier to aim and pull the trigger at a paper bull’s-eye, rather than at a living, breathing person. Her hands began to shake. She tried to control the trembling.
“Thanks for saving our lives,” Wyatt said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I was worried there was another gunman in the woods who had found you. Each time Trudeau ordered me to call you, I felt certain you’d gotten away.”
“There’s one guy, Bubba, who is still out there somewhere,” her father said. “Although if you ask me, he was probably smart enough to skip town.”
Another gunman? Even as the thought flitted through her mind, Wyatt was yanking her and her father down just as several rounds of gunfire hit the cabin.
* * *
Wyatt pushed himself in front of Abby and Peter, trying to ascertain which direction the bullets were coming from.
He’d hoped Abby hadn’t been found, but he should have anticipated there would be another gunman on the loose.
“Trudeau is shot,” Wyatt shouted. “It’s over! Throw down your weapon!”
He didn’t really think Bubba Graves would do as he’d asked, but he was hoping to pinpoint the guy’s location.
Bubba didn’t answer, but there was more gunfire, this time not directed at the cabin. “This is the Marquette County sheriff’s department. We have you surrounded. Drop your weapon and put your hands on your head where we can see them!”
The deputies had arrived!
“Green Lake County sheriff’s department is here, too,” another voice called out. “There is no escape. Surrender your weapon, now!”
Wyatt stayed right where he was, with Peter and Abby sandwiched between him and the kitchen cabinets. He wasn’t going anywhere until the deputies had cleared the area of assailants.
Thankfully, Bubba must have realized that if he didn’t comply, he would likely die.
“Got him,” someone shouted.
“Let’s clear the area,” another said.
“Three innocents in the cabin, one dirty cop down with a belly wound,” Wyatt shouted.
“Wyatt, is that you?” Liam’s familiar voice asked.
“Yes, with Peter and Abby Miller, too.”
“Stay put, we’re coming in. The rest of you, make sure the woods around this cabin have been cleared, understand?”
A chorus of “Roger that,” echoed in response.
Two minutes later, Liam and Garrett entered the cabin. Garrett knelt beside Trudeau, while Liam came over to where he was sitting.
“So this is Hawthorne?” Garrett asked.
“No, actually it’s my former partner, Allan Trudeau.” Wyatt still couldn’t believe he’d pegged the leak as his boss, rather than his partner. The fake surgery had been a good diversion. Something he hadn’t anticipated.
“Help me,” Trudeau whispered.
“Once we clear the area, we’ll get you to the ambulance waiting on the highway,” Garrett said. “If you want to tell us who to look for, that job would go faster.”
Trudeau groaned and muttered something Wyatt couldn’t hear. “What did he say?”
“Sorry, I’m not sure. It was gibberish to me.” Garrett shrugged. “No name, that’s for sure. I doubt there’s anyone else out there.”
Wyatt hoped he was right. He rose, then turned to help Abby to her feet. Peter looked weak, but stood without assistance. “Peter, how long have you been here?”
“In the cabin? For a couple of days.” The older man flushed. “I should have come forward when I saw you and Abby here that first night, but I didn’t trust you, Agent Kane. I still believed you ratted me out.”
Wyatt nodded. “How have you been getting around?”
“An old motorcycle that I’ve hidden a mile from here.” Peter cracked a smile. “I was almost caught by a gunman. That was when I broke off the call with you, Abby. Then I ran out of battery. It was only recently I was able to recharge it. While hiking here to the cabin, I called Abby but then saw another shooter.” He grimaced. “I dropped the phone and kept running.”
“Oh, Dad,” Abby whispered. “That’s scary.”
Peter grimaced. “I’m so sorry you were put in a position to rescue me.”
“Hey, she rescued both of us,” Wyatt said wryly. “You obviously taught her well.”
Peter shook his head. “I did my best, but I’m obviously not that good. I shouldn’t have let Trudeau get the drop on me. I knew better than to stay in one place for too long.”
“I’m glad we came to find you,” Abby whispered.
“Me, too,” Wyatt agreed.
“The deputies have given the all clear,” Liam said. “Technically this cabin isn’t my jurisdiction, but the Marquette County deputies were okay with us taking over from here. Especially when I mentioned how several other crimes were committed by these same bad actors in Green Lake County.”
Wyatt was secretly relieved to be working with cops he knew and respected. “Thank you.”
Two deputies carried Trudeau out of the cabin to meet up with the EMTs making their way in from the road. His partner had lost consciousness, and Wyatt hoped he survived the shooting. He didn’t want Abby burdened with the death of the man she’d shot, and he needed to know how his partner had gotten access into his files on Peter Miller.
Was it as simple as watching him enter his password and copying it? Or had he somehow hacked into his laptop? Trudeau was good with computers, and he often worked the financial side of the organized crime business.
It made him wonder how long his partner had been working for the mafia as an insider. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he was troubled at how much money Trudeau could have hidden on behalf of the Marcheses and more recently for Johnny Raffa.
Everything his partner had done was suspect now and would require an in-depth investigation.
One thing that still bothered him was how quickly his boss, Ethan Hawthorne, had agreed with Trudeau that Wyatt was the guilty party. As far as he’d known, Trudeau hadn’t been aware of his meeting with Peter Miller that day that gunfire nearly killed him. Had Hawthorne mentioned it? Or had Trudeau hacked into his computer to find the information, himself?
“Wyatt? Are you okay?” Abby’s voice drew him back to the important issue at hand.
“I’m fine.” He longed to pull her into his arms, but held back under the watchful eye of her father. There would be time to express his feelings, later.
“I’d like the three of you to provide brief statements, for now,” Liam said. “We can get a more detailed description later.”
Wyatt didn’t argue. Liam drew him to the side, leaving Abby to talk to Garrett while another deputy took Peter Miller off to the opposite corner.
The retelling of the events didn’t take that long. Liam recorded the conversation with his phone, rather than taking notes. As an FBI agent, Wyatt knew it was important to get key information right away, when memories were fresh.
“Do you and Abby need a ride back to Green Lake?” Liam asked when they’d finished.
“We have our Jeep hidden in the brush about a mile north of here.” He glanced over to where Abby was still talking to Garrett. “We have Peter now, too. I’m sure Abby will convince him to come with us to the hotel.”
“If you could all come down to headquarters again sometime late tomorrow morning, that would be great.” Liam pocketed his phone.
“That’s fine. I’ll have to call my boss in the morning, too.” Wyatt knew he should do that right away, but he was too exhausted and knew Hawthorne would want him to recap every detail. “I’d like to know when Allan Trudeau is awake and talking. My boss is going to want to interview him, ASAP.”
“He was taken to Appleton but will likely be transferred via helicopter to either Milwaukee or Madison. Those cities have the only two level-one trauma centers in the state.”
“If you could let me know which one, I’d appreciate it.”
“I will.” Liam glanced around the cabin. “You and Abby did great work today.”
“Thanks, but we’re alive because of Abby.” He wanted Liam to know how much she deserved all the credit. “She would make a great cop.”
“Yeah?” Liam glanced thoughtfully to where she was finishing her interview. “Is she interested in joining the force?”
“I think so.” He hoped he wasn’t poking his nose where it didn’t belong. “She doesn’t have a college degree, though, so that may hold her back. Maybe you or Garrett could talk to her more about that tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” Liam sighed, then added, “Maybe you should wait until early afternoon to stop by. We’re going to be here for a while yet.”
He chuckled. “Why don’t you call me when you’re ready? That way you can take your time.”
“I will.” Liam crossed over to meet with Garrett and the deputy who’d questioned Peter.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” Wyatt glanced at Abby and her father. “We might be able to get back to the hotel in time to get some sleep.”
“And food,” Peter said with a crooked smile. “I haven’t eaten much.”
“We’ll find something along the way,” Wyatt promised. “It’s a long hike back to the Jeep, though.”
“We’ll be fine, right, Dad?” Abby put her arm around her father’s waist. “You can lean on me.”
“I can walk,” Peter said firmly. “Lead the way, Agent Kane.”
“Wyatt,” he corrected. “I promise I’m on your side and Abby’s.”
Peter nodded but didn’t say anything more. Wyatt sensed he was saving his energy for the upcoming hike to the car.
There was no point in moving quietly, but he still took a path with less foliage so they could move faster. He glanced back over his shoulder several times, to make sure Abby and her father hadn’t fallen too far behind.
