Cold Ridge

Twenty-One

When the phone rang, Val pounced, hoping it was Manny, or Tyler, someone-anyone-with news. It'd been a long damn day, and she could feel herself creeping past the point of rationality, past her capability to resist her impulses to get off her butt and do something. Act. Waiting. Damn, she'd never been good at it.

"Do you want to help your husband?"

She sat up straight on the couch. The voice on the other end was toneless, dispassionate, not one she recognized. "Of course I do. Who is this?"

"The police are about to arrest your husband."

The voice didn't change-there was no emotion, no way, even, of telling for sure whether it was male or female. Male, Val thought. "How do you know?"

"I know.Trust me. The evidence against him is stacking up. The police can't continue to ignore it. He'll be convicted of murder-"

"No, he won't, because he's innocent."

There was a wry laugh. "Ah. True love. I know he is innocent, Mrs. Carrera-Val. But I also know what will happen if you don't act. I can help him."

"How?"

"I can't do it without your help. You must do exactly as I say. Remember, I know more than you do, and I'm on your side. It won't be easy, but you must follow my instructions."

"This is nuts."

"Don't hang up." The intonation didn't change. "I understand your skepticism. You've seen it all, haven't you, Mrs. Carrera? The wife of a career military man, the mother of a sick son-"

"What do you know about my son? You leave him out of it!"

Again, there was no obvious change in the voice of the other end of the phone. "Listen to me. I'm a friend. I can help."

"The police were here today with a search warrant. Maybe they bugged my phone while they were at it. I hope they're out on the street in some van, listening to you, tracing this stupid-ass call-"

"Quit the tough-girl act, Val. Or is it always Valerie?" This time, she thought she sensed a smile, a touch of kindness. "Here is what you need to do. It's simple, but it's not easy. I need you to bring Hank Callahan to Cold Ridge. Tonight."

"What? Are you out of your goddamn mind? He's a senator. I can't just-"

"You can. You have to. Senator Callahan is the key to proving your husband's innocence. He likes you, Val. He believes in your husband. He'll want to help you. Talk him into driving to Cold Ridge with you tonight."

"Then what?"

"Everything will be fine. Trust me."

She licked her lips, squeezing her eyes shut as if that might help her figure out what to do. "I don't even know where he is. I can't-"

"You have one chance to help your family. Don't squander it. It's time to trust someone. Trust me, Val."

"But who are you?"

"I told you. A friend."

She shook her head. "No way. I know all of Manny's friends."

"No, you don't."

She took a breath, unable to speak. Was it possible this call was legitimate? At this point,was anything possible?

"Hank and your husband performed dangerous combat search-and-rescue missions when they were in the military together. Play on Senator Callahan's sympathies, his sense of loyalty."

"Nothing will happen to him? You won't hurt him?"

"Val, I'm a friend. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I just have to be very careful. The forces against your husband are-let's just say the deck is stacked in their favor."

"The Rancourts, you mean?"

Silence.

"The police? Do they have the police in their pockets?"

"I'll call back when you're on the road and give you further instructions. You can do it."

"If I don't?"

"Then I can't help you."

Click.

Shaking, sobbing, Val dialed 911, then slammed down the phone. What if the caller wasn't screwing around? What if powerful people wanted Manny to take the fall for murder?

And how could she just call 911? She needed to call the FBI or something.

She tried Manny's cell phone, but didn't let it connect. Then Nate Winter's number and Tyler North's number, neither time letting the call connect.

She dialed Eric on his cell phone. He answered on the third ring, sounding sleepy. "Eric-it's Mom. Did I wake you?"

"Yes."

"Everything all right?"

He coughed. "Yes, ma'am."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

It was a conversation they'd had dozens of times. She'd tiptoe onto his room at night and stand over his bed, check to see that he was breathing. Sometimes he'd wake up, and she'd scare the hell out of him, standing there like some ghoul.

To him, this was probably the same. Reassure his crazy mom, then go back to sleep.

"I'll call you in the morning when you're more awake, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. Good night."

She hung up and burst into tears, because there was no way-no way-Eric could bear to lose his father.

Fifteen minutes later, a car pulled up in front of her apartment, and Hank Callahan, the junior senator-elect from Massachusetts, got out and walked up to the front of her building.

"Jesus," Val breathed, as if Hank's presence was a gift from God.