“Well. It does, until you get a close look at sanitary conditions, pediatric health, the death rate from cancers caused by chewing
tobacco, the infant mortality rate, the prevalence of incest and other self-destructive practices. Paradise it is not. But they hew to their way of life, and treat outsiders poorly.”
“How did your father come to fit in?”
“Think about it, Agent Carter. Dad was a professional hunter. He’s a loner. He’s more than a little scary to be around. I think they recognized one of their own. Plus, he saved Micah Wall’s youngest son from a bad situation, literally the day he moved into the cabin.”
Janet braked hard to allow three small deer to bound across the road.
“What this guy Wall like?”
“Micah Wall is a damned hoot. He’s got this dog—it’s like a Jack Russell terrier mix? The dog’s idea of fun is when Micah brings out this huge old western-style Colt .45 and sits on his back porch. The dog takes off and Micah shoots right in front of it, and the dog chases the bullets when they go ricocheting around the back sheds and all the junk out there. He calls the dog Whizbang.”
They went down a long, dark hill, crossed another creek, and began to climb again. As they rounded the hairpin turn that came up just before the entrance to Kreiss’s cabin, Janet swore and braked hard again, this time to avoid a large white Suburban that was parked partially across the road, with only its parking lights on. There was barely enough room for her to pass the larger vehicle, and she would have to stop first to manage it. As she got her car stopped, two men got out of the Suburban. They were wearing windbreakers with aTF emblazoned in reflective tape, khaki pants, and ball caps with the aTF logo. She could see a third man inside the vehicle when they opened their doors. There were several aerials on the top of the Suburban, but no police lights.
“Shit,” Janet murmured.
“What do we do?” Lynn asked, gathering the blanket around her.
“Hold on to this,” Janet said, passing the .38 to Lynn as she rolled the window down. Lynn reached under the blanket and put it in her lap.
Then Janet reached back into the seat-back pouch and pulled out her own ball cap, which had FBI emblazoned on it. The men came up on either side of Janet’s car, but Janet told Lynn not to roll her window down.
“What’s going on?” she said to the man who came up to the driver’s side. He was a large black man, who kept one hand in his coat pocket.
She put both hands on the top of the steering wheel so he could see them.
“Evening, ma’am. We’re with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and
Firearms.” He glanced nervously at Lynn’s hands resting beneath the blanket. Then he saw Janet’s ball cap.
“You’re Bureau?”
“That’s right. Special Agent Janet Carter, Roanoke office.” She normally would have asked for his identification, but since she no longer had her own credentials, she had to finesse it.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re on orders to apprehend one Edwin Kreiss. Subject’s wanted in connection with a federal homicide warrant. Who is this with you, Agent Carter?”
“She’s my niece, visiting me from Washington.” The second man was standing three feet back from the right side of her car, in position to handle any sudden emergencies. Lynn was keeping her mouth shut and her hands were still beneath the blanket.
“And you’re going where?”
“I’m going to my uncle’s house; that’s a mile beyond the Kreiss cabin.”
“That… place? With all the junk? That’s your uncle?”
“Micah Wall. Her father, my father’s sister’s brother. We’re not necessarily proud of him, but, well, what I can I tell you? Now you know why I’m assigned to the Roanoke office.”
He nodded, obviously trying to sort through the father-brother-sister lineage.
“Would you mind waiting right here, please, Agent Carter? I have orders to call in anyone who comes down this road. There’s a pretty big manhunt up for this Kreiss guy.”
Janet shrugged.
“Sure, but can we make it quick? We’re late, and I’m tired of dancing through the damned deer on these mountain roads.”
He promised that he’d be right back and walked over to the Suburban, taking down her license plate number as he did so. The other man kept his station on the edge of the road, slightly behind her line of vision. She couldn’t see the third man inside the Suburban until the black man opened the door on the driver’s side.
“Hand me the cell phone,” she said quietly, “and hit the recall button and then the one for send when you do it. Move slowly.”
Lynn did as Janet asked, and Janet put the phone up to her ear. The man outside shifted his position when he saw Janet’s hand leave the steering wheel. The phone rang. C’mon, she thought urgently. C’mon. I need you to answer this time.
“Micah Wall,” a gnarly voice spoke into her ear.
“Mr. Wall, this is Janet Carter. You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Edwin Kreiss. I have Lynn Kreiss in the car with me and we’re in trouble with the local law. We’re about a mile south of your place,
and we need somewhere to hide. And we may have some company on our tail when we get there.”
“Lynn Kreiss? She gone missin’,” Wall said. Janet handed the phone to Lynn, then leaned over to listen to what he said.
“Micah, it’s me. Dad’s in trouble and I need a place to hide.”
“How’n I know it’s you?”
“Lions, Micah. Dad’s cabin has lions in it.”
“Yeah, it does. C’mon, then. You got cops on your tail?”
“ATE”
There was a short laugh.
“The revenuers? Bring ‘em bast ids on.”
The connection was broken and Janet put the phone down. The black man was half in, half out of the Suburban, talking on either a radio or a phone. She could see him better now because there was suddenly more light, and then she realized there must be a vehicle coming up behind them, and coming fast. Really fast. She saw the man silhouetted in the right mirror moving back, his hands waving, and decided this was the moment. She slammed the car into drive and accelerated right at the Suburban. The black man looked back and then dived into the front seat as she clipped his door and roared past, fishtailing all over the place. She thought she heard a gunshot but it was hard to tell with all the gravel flying everywhere. She rounded the next curve as the other vehicle’s lights flooded her mirror, but then the hillside obscured them.
She took her foot off the gas momentarily to keep control of the car as she pushed it up the winding road.
“How far?” she asked Lynn, but Lynn didn’t answer. She glanced over and saw that Lynn was sagging against the opposite door, a confused look on her face.
“I think I’ve been shot,” she said in a weak voice. She pulled her right hand out from under the blanket and it was shiny with blood.
Janet swore and accelerated.
“Where are you hit?”
“I don’t know,” Lynn said in a dreamy voice.
“Back, I think. Side, maybe? It’s not too bad. Feels like I got kicked by a small horse.”
There was a brief flare of bright lights behind her, but then she rounded the next curve and hurried past Kreiss’s driveway. The next turn again blocked out the pursuing headlights. Another half a mile. She took it up as fast as she could. She couldn’t believe it—one of those aTF agents had fired at an FBI agent’s car? Even if they had found out she’d quit, they shouldn’t have been shooting. Unless-The bright headlights came up again in her mirror, and she realized the
aTF agents could not have gotten that big Suburban turned around and headed after her that quickly. This was the other car, and she had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who this was. She nearly lost it on the next curve, again shooting gravel and other roadside debris out into the woods.