The naked edge

15

Sunlight glinting off its bullet-resistant windows, the helicopter landed in the meadow in front of the cabin, the wind from its rotor blades bending the grass.

"But when will I be able to come back and see my family?" The noise from the chopper's engines forced Mrs. Patterson to strain her voice.

"When we're sure you're out of danger," Jamie explained.

"Which is the same as saying 'when Aaron's out of danger.'" Mrs. Patterson nodded toward Cavanaugh.

Jamie had gotten so used to his assumed name that she felt a sense of unreality when people referred to him as Aaron.

"It's for your family's protection as much as yours," Jamie told her. "Believe me, you'll be well-cared for."

"New York?"

"Yes. Manhattan."

Mrs. Patterson thought a moment. "Is Radio City Music Hall there?"

Jamie almost smiled. "Ten blocks from where you'll be staying. We've got some nice-looking young men who'll be pleased to escort you."

Behind her, Cavanaugh told Garth, "William phoned Judge Canfield and got permission for us to leave the state until the grand jury convenes."

"He certainly has the power to get things done in a hurry." Garth didn't sound happy that influence achieved results. "We're checking every hotel and motel in the area. We're especially interested in the cabins at Moose Junction where you saw the assault team. We're also checking the airlines and the local rental car agencies."

"The car that blew up. You're sure the bomb was under it?"

"The crime scene investigators confirmed that."

"What the hell is going on?" But even as Cavanaugh asked the question, the answer was obvious. "Whoever hired those men was afraid of what they might say if they were captured and interrogated. Ditto the sniper."

In the helicopter, the pilot motioned for everybody to get aboard.

"Thanks for your help, Garth."

"I'm just glad you got out of this alive."

Except for Angelo, Cavanaugh thought, anger burning inside him.

I'll find who did this.

The chopper lifted off, gaining altitude to clear the bluffs. Its destination was eastward. But as it flew from the Teton valley, Cavanaugh did something he'd promised himself that he wouldn't-he asked the pilot to fly north first. He wanted to see his ranch. Above his canyon, he surveyed the scattered wreckage of his home, the charred timbers, the craters where the propane tank and the helicopter had exploded, the flattened lodge, the burned meadow.

He and Jamie looked at one another.

Yes, I'll find who did this, he thought.