If I Should Die

THIRTY-NINE

The blast from the latest explosion knocked Lucy and Patrick to the ground, and it was just good luck that they weren’t any closer to the warehouse. Inside the structure the marijuana burned. They ran back to the truck, and Patrick sped away.

Lucy had barely caught her breath. “Jon’s not here. No one is here.”

“He’s remotely detonating the warehouses.”

“How far can he be?”

“Bombs aren’t my specialty, but depending on the device he could be miles away.”

“What will he target next?”

“He’s already taken out the four warehouses. That’s it.”

“He has a bigger plan,” Lucy said. She looked out the window, the horizon now ablaze. She was thankful it was spring and the ground was still moist from winter; the explosions could have started a severe forest fire. Even now, the firefighters had their work cut out for them. They had to wear special equipment or risk being drugged from the burning marijuana. Toxins in the air put everyone at risk. She hadn’t heard of anyone dying just by being stoned, but she knew many cases of impaired drug-users doing stupid things and getting themselves killed.

Patrick’s phone rang. “Get it-it’s Adam.”

Lucy answered. “This is Lucy. Adam?”

“I’m with Henry Callahan. We’re at the church-Jon’s not here. No one is.”

“Does Henry have any idea about where else Jon might go?”

Lucy wanted to call Noah, but knew he’d contact her as soon as he had word about Sean. Not knowing was eating her up.

“None. He could still show up here. This is where they’re supposed to meet the gun guy tomorrow.”

“He’s not going to show, not with all this police and fire activity. Which is,” Lucy said, “probably exactly what Jon wants. To ruin Bobbie.”

“Not kill her?”

Lucy considered whether Jon’s revenge was more fatal-minded. She put herself in Jon’s shoes. If Sean died-her heart skipped a beat, and she forced herself to think like a professional. If Sean died, how would she feel? What would be her raw reaction?

She’d want revenge. Tonight. And she would probably take it. But after four months? On a specific day, to also thwart the gun deal? She wouldn’t. It was cold and methodical. Her revenge would be out of pain and anguish, not a calculated plot of murder.

“Why don’t you stay there,” she said to Adam. “In case Jon shows up. Let me know.”

She hung up.

“That look on your face,” Patrick said. “You’re concentrating.”

“There’s no look on my face.”

“There is. Think. Where would Callahan go? If he’s dead set on getting revenge?”

“Wherever Bobbie is.”

“The Callahan house.”

“Noah would have told us. Unless something happened.”

“I’ll head that way.” He sped up.

She sent Noah a text message. When they were only five minutes from the Callahan turnoff, Noah called her.

“Is Sean okay?” She didn’t want to sound desperate, but she felt desperate.

“He’s not here. Swain’s bodyguard is dead. We think Bobbie took Sean with her. Any idea where?”

Her stomach twisted painfully. “Why would she take Sean with her?”

Noah didn’t answer. Of course Lucy knew why: a hostage. She said, “If she encounters roadblocks she needs a ticket out.”

“I have Ricky’s number,” Patrick said. “Call him.”

“Noah, I’m going to try and reach Ricky. I’ll let you know what I learn.”

She hung up and dialed Ricky. He didn’t answer. She sent him a text message.

Bobbie kidnapped Sean. We think she’s going to either leave town or find Jon. Where are you? Are you still with Jon Callahan?

“Jon is the one with the control right now,” Lucy said. “He’s the one who wants revenge. As soon as I found Victoria Sheffield’s body, Bobbie would have to know she’d be ID’d and the FBI would sweep in. Yet she stayed. Why?”

“Because she was playing the odds that Sheffield wouldn’t be ID’d until later?”

“Perhaps. A narcissist, maybe? No one is as smart as she is? Not even the cops. That’s why she had the body moved. If they don’t have a body, they can’t ID her.”

“She didn’t realize you’re smarter.”

“And Jon was in love with her.” Lucy tried to put herself in Jon’s shoes. For him, the real crime was Bobbie’s killing Victoria.

She texted Ricky again.

Are you at the mine? Please tell me if Bobbie is there with Sean. He’s in grave danger.

“Tim and Adam said the C-4 was stored at the mine, right?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And that’s where Bobbie dumped Victoria’s body. Vengeance. Jon wants her in the mine. For him, it’s closure. Doing what he should have done months ago.”

Ricky responded.

She’s coming.

“We have to get to the mine. Ricky just confirmed Bobbie’s on her way!”

As she sent Noah the information, she prayed they weren’t too late.

Sean kept quiet during the drive from the Callahan house to the mine. Carl drove and Bobbie sat in the passenger seat, playing with her gun in her lap. Handcuffed in the backseat, he listened to their conversation as he considered his options.

Sean gathered that the explosives came from Sampson Lowell. He’d used Bobbie’s operation to transport three cases to a domestic terrorism group. Sean tried to figure out who and where the group was, but Bobbie wasn’t specific, nor did she seem to care. The group didn’t have the funds for the entire shipment, so Bobbie had kept the remainder, which Lowell agreed to let her have as a sign of good faith in their gun distribution agreement.

As best he could figure, Lowell wanted to use Bobbie’s pot warehouses to store the extensive collection of guns he sold-to anyone from foreign governments to revolutionaries to street gangs. Lowell didn’t have a secure storage facility in the Northeast and while Spruce Lake was remote, it had the advantage of a nearby private airstrip, privacy, and an established and protected distribution network.

When the Hendricksons announced they were opening their resort, Bobbie feared tourists would come across her pot farms, and Lowell was nervous about the added influx of people. Bobbie wanted to delay the resort opening, at least until her operation with Lowell was up and running. Carl came up with the sabotage plan, thinking the Hendricksons wouldn’t be able to open on time. When it became clear they still planned to open over Memorial Day weekend, Carl instructed Ricky to burn down the main lodge.

Bobbie had sold the remaining C-4 she’d gotten from Lowell and was supposed to deliver it to the buyer next week. That Jon used some of it to blow up her warehouses meant she couldn’t fulfill her obligation. That put her name and trustworthiness at risk-not good for business. Worse, though, was that she’d just lost her entire inventory of weed, meaning she wouldn’t be able to fill orders for months. Nor were her secure warehouses even standing. They would not be stowing Lowell’s guns anytime soon.

Jon Callahan had effectively destroyed her entire operations in one explosive night.

Carl said, “Shoot him on sight.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bobbie retorted.

Sean couldn’t see anything through the dark windows of the moving car. He calculated it would take only ten minutes to reach the mine. Think, Rogan.

“Arguing with Jon will only delay our departure.”

“I want my money and the rest of the C-4.”

If Sean were in her shoes, so would he. She needed the money to stay free, and alive.

“There are only a few places he could have put it. It’s either with him or at the bar,” Carl said. “He didn’t have more than a few hours to hide it.”

“Then we won’t just drive up where he expects us. Pull over here.”

Carl turned off the highway and onto an unpaved road. Sean had no idea where they were.

“We’ll go in on foot,” she said.

“It’s thirty degrees out there!” the reverend objected.

“Come on, old man, you have a coat.”

Carl didn’t look happy, and Sean had no idea how far they had to walk.

“What about him?” Carl glanced back to where Sean was handcuffed in the backseat.

“We might still need a hostage when we leave. We’ll kill him once we get into Canada. Make sure he’s secure,” Bobbie ordered.

Carl reached over the seat to check Sean’s cuffs. He then wrapped duct tape around his ankles and a strip across his mouth. “Not that anyone’s around to hear you. You just irritate me.”

With the car heater off, the temperature plummeted. They hadn’t given him back his jacket at the house, and Sean had on only jeans and a T-shirt.

As they sat in the car, Sean heard a truck on the highway pass them, then slow down.

“Who the hell was that?” Bobbie said. “It just turned down the road to the mine. White truck. Who has a white truck? It’s not Jon’s.”

“Let’s just leave,” Carl said. “I don’t like the feeling of this.”

“We’re not leaving without my money, or we might as well just turn ourselves in to the fucking police.”

Carl sighed, resigned, and opened the car door.

Bobbie turned in her seat to look at Sean. She double checked the handcuffs and duct tape. “Stay put, sugar.” Then she followed Carl into the woods.

Sean had rented a white truck. The last person driving it was Patrick.