“My family is not at risk.” She glared at him. “They will not be at risk.”
“Ah, but you see,” Tapia said, “they expect you to come home this evening, ¿verdad? You can assure that will happen, at this very moment you can assure it, by your cooperation. That is what I am saying.” He tapped the muzzle of the silencer on the dashboard, the gun aimed ahead at the police cars that could so easily block their path.
“What do you want?” Even as she spoke, she saw the wink of lights coming from the east as yet another cruiser, this time one of the county’s own, headed west on the state highway to intersect their route.
“Make sure the airport gateway is open,” he said, and picked up the radio mike and draped it over her arm once again. This time, his touch was feather-soft.
She took the mike, and for just a moment she held it, the transmit button untouched. Every law enforcement officer in the county-and surrounding counties-would know by now exactly where she and Tapia were. That Tapia had allowed County Manager Leona Spears to simply walk away was interesting. It was clear that Manolo Tapia firmly believed that Estelle would make an effective shield, and that they would release Hector in exchange for her safety.
“What was Chester Hansen to you?” Estelle asked, the mike still ignored.
Tapia laughed. “Ah. You are wonderful,” he said. “How many children do you have? A fair trade.”
“Two,” she said instantly.
He tapped the dash again, watching the white county police unit pull across the highway, blocking both lanes. “Two. They are beautiful children, beyond a doubt. Your husband-what does he do?”
“What was Chester Hansen to you?” Estelle repeated. Tapia shifted, his posture almost casual, right elbow on the window-sill. His eyes twinkled with amusement.
“A man who refused to pay his debts,” Tapia said. “That is all. I entered into an agreement two years ago to eliminate a family problem for him and his company-and then he refused to pay after professional services were rendered. So.” He shrugged. “A question of honor, perhaps. Or just good business. In any case, what is done is done. Now you know a little more. It will make no difference. And your husband? He is delightful, I am sure. What does he do?”
“A physician.”
Tapia’s heavy eyebrows shot up. “Really so? Such a tiny village, deserving such grace.” He straightened a little, twisting in his seat to scan the country to the side and behind them. “Tell them now,” he said, nodding ahead.
“Three-oh-three, three-ten. We’ll be to the cattle guard in just a few minutes. Ten-eighty, ten-eighty-five.”
Deputy Jackie Taber’s voice was subdued. “Ten-four.”
“Make sure the troops understand,” Estelle said. Watch from a distance.
“Ten-four.” Now three hundred yards away, she could see one of the State Police officers outside his vehicle, watching them through binoculars. He held a short black assault rifle in his left hand, the butt resting against his hip. Sheriff Robert Torrez had headed back toward town when Tapia’s position was not yet known. Where was he now? Had he acted on Tapia’s demands?
“Three-oh-eight, three-ten,” she said. “Ten-twenty?”
Manolo Tapia reached across and took the mike from her. “Your sheriff has but one mission,” he said. “Perhaps we will discover how much he appreciates you. Do you think so?” He glanced ahead at the waiting officers. “We don’t need to know what he might invent as his location, señora. What matters is that he does as he is told. Otherwise, we must begin to worry about you.”
“Three-oh-eight is one mile out.” The sheriff’s tone was clipped and impatient, and he didn’t elaborate “out” from what. He would have heard the exchange with Jackie, and Estelle had no trouble envisioning the sheriff turning around abruptly to intercept them on the highway, rather than tending to Tapia’s demands.
A second state officer appeared out of the car, and Estelle could see that he held another of the short AR-15’s, this one fitted with a telescopic sight. At the same time, Jackie’s Bronco pulled forward to the shoulder, clearing the highway.
“Roll up your window,” Tapia said, and Estelle complied. The dirt two-track turned abruptly to the right before once again curving to cross the cattle guard on the state highway right-of-way. When she reached the highway, two of the state officers would be on her side of the vehicle, exactly where Tapia would want them.
“When you reach the highway, turn right,” Tapia ordered. Once more, he leaned toward her and his left hand encircled the back of her neck, not a clamp, but a promise.
Now we find out how patient everyone can be, Estelle thought.
Chapter Thirty-two
As they neared the cattle guard, Estelle could look east, down the state highway. There was no traffic. A roadblock would have been established between this point and the village. There had been no radio traffic, either-Sheriff Torrez was sticking to the phone, refusing to give Tapia any more advantage than he already held.
The two State Police officers made no move away from their vehicles, but the rifles tracked Estelle’s vehicle every inch of the way. The officers were the first of what would eventually become an army, and she knew that with every player added, the odds of a peaceful resolution diminished.
Deputy Jackie Taber stood by the right front fender of her Bronco. Estelle lifted the fingers of her right hand off the steering wheel in acknowledgment as they slipped by.
“You see?” Tapia said. He ignored the two state troopers, but watched Jackie Taber closely. “When we behave, there is no problem.”
“And now?” Estelle asked as they pulled out onto the pavement.
“Now to the airport.” He pointed with the pistol. “Just ahead. And promptly.”
Instead of accelerating, she slowed the SUV to a crawl, and he looked at her sharply. In her rearview mirror, she saw the three officers reenter their vehicles. “I want to clear the airport. There may be people there that will only get in the way.” She didn’t know what airport manager Jim Bergin would do when they drove blithely onto his turf and stole an airplane-and it appeared certain that was what Tapia had in mind, even though he would be surrounded by enough firepower to start a small war.
“That is not necessary,” Tapia said. He rocked her head gently, never releasing the grip on her neck. “As long as you are with me, there is not problem, ¿verdad?”
“And if I’m not?”
“But you are. Now go,” he said, pointing down the highway. “Stop the delay. You are with me, and that is that.” He stroked her right forearm with the muzzle of the silencer again, and she snapped her arm away to the limit of the handcuffs. He chuckled. “In other circumstances…” he began, then finished the thought with a shrug. “I know people who in your circumstance would be no more than…” He groped for the right word. “Is it jello?” She didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that her stomach had been tied in knots for the past hour.
“You will drive to the airport now. Drive directly to the hangar where niner two Hotel is kept.” The hand on her neck tightened. “Quickly now.” His use of pilot jargon opened another door in Estelle’s mind.
She accelerated down the empty highway, the other police units trailing behind.
He twisted in his seat without releasing his hold on her. “I want them to stop,” he said. “Tell them so.” He handed her the mike.
“Three-oh-three,” she said, “stop at the mile marker and block the highway. I don’t want anyone through.” She saw the Bronco slow immediately, then turn sideways on the highway, the two state cars flanking it from behind. “If the sheriff has the highway blocked at the village, have them stay in place.”
“Ten-four. Are you okay?”
“Ten-four.” She dropped the mike, and Tapia gathered it up.