with unshed tears. ‘I should’ve looked out for Louise more than I did. I called her, told her to lay low for a while, but it wasn’t enough, Hunter.’
‘You couldn’t know what was going to happen to her.’
‘No. We both guessed what the consequences were. That’s exactly my point, man. We should’ve done more, just like we should to keep Imogen out of this. No one around us is safe any more… everyone we care about is a target to these bastards.’
‘They don’t know about Imogen,’ I said. But my argument was hollow. They’d found Walter’s hideaway in the Adirondacks, so finding Imogen would be a piece of cake. Hell, all they had to do was Google her name and it would lead directly to her home: the problem with using it as the registered office of her internet business.
‘Are you sure about that, Joe? You want to take that chance?’
OK, I thought, phoning her wouldn’t help, but then again, it couldn’t hurt either.
I touched my pocket before remembering that my phone had been taken from me along with my weapons. Having it with me had been a huge error of judgement, I feared. ‘Can you patch me in from here, Harve?’
He was already on it. He passed me a satellite phone, hit a switch and then gestured at a set of headphones. I pulled them on, began tapping numbers. A long way up the coast, Imogen reached for her phone. ‘Hello,’ she asked, possibly frowning at the unknown caller display on her handset.
There was a momentary hitch in my voice, like I didn’t know what to say. Jesus, I thought, this is exactly the type of scenario I didn’t want Imogen to have to go through again. Finally I managed to say her name.
‘Joe? Is that you?’
‘There’s a lot of noise here,’ I said, adjusting the headset, ‘can you hear me now?’
‘Whose phone are you using?’
‘It’s Harvey’s,’ I said.
‘What’s wrong with yours? I couldn’t hear you talking.’
‘Just the sound in the chopper, I adjusted the volume.’
‘No, I didn’t mean just now. I meant when I rang you earlier.’
‘You rang me?’
‘Yes. You answered, I could hear you breathing, then you said hello.’
‘Shit!’
‘What’s wrong, Joe?’
‘What did you say, Imogen?’
‘I can’t remember.’ She paused, trying to pull the threads of her memory together. ‘I said that we should talk, asked you to come up here.’
‘You mentioned Maine?’
‘Uh, I can’t remember. Joe, what’s going on? Has this something to do with Walter’s murder?’
I didn’t have the time to explain. ‘Imogen, I need you to get in your car and drive immediately to Machias. Don’t stop for anyone. Go directly to the police station there and don’t move. I’m going to get someone to come for you.’
‘Joe? What the hell’s going on?’
‘There’s no time. Do it. Get in your car now!’
Imogen wasn’t the type to miss the subtext of my instructions. She was in extreme danger and knew not to argue. She’d survived being hunted by the Bolan twins, and had also managed to get away from Luke Rickard last year, but perhaps a third time would prove unlucky.
‘OK, Joe,’ she said.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Imogen…’
‘What is it?’
‘When this is over with, I’ll come and find you.’
I caught an approving glance from Harvey. Knowing that she’d already be heading for her car, I ended the call and jabbed other buttons on the phone.
‘You are supposed to be on your own, Hunter.’ That Walter knew without asking that it was me calling didn’t surprise me. Maybe he’d been expecting it.
‘I need you to send someone to pick up Imogen. I think she’s been compromised. Hartlaub and Brigham,’ I trusted them to get the job done, Hartlaub especially, ‘send them.’
Give Walter his due, he didn’t quibble. He merely asked where they should go and I directed them to the rendezvous at Machias. ‘Keep her safe, Walter. Same deal for John. I’m still on the case at this end.’
‘That was you in Little Rock, the crazy gunman who went after Sigmund Petoskey? That’s an outstanding issue that could come back to bite you on your ass, son.’
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I said. ‘Anyway, Petoskey’s no longer a problem.’
‘You killed him?’
‘Not me. He took a wrong step out of a helicopter. It was the roof of the house he landed on that killed him.’
Walter chuckled into the phone, bloodthirsty son of a bitch that he was. ‘What about Rink?’
‘He’s with me now.’
‘How is he?’
‘As ugly as ever.’
Walter chuckled again. I wouldn’t be making jokes if there was anything seriously wrong with my friend. I told him about Baron, about Hendrickson, what had happened since our meeting at the lake house. Walter promised to dig up what they had on the ex-spook; on Hendrickson he didn’t need to tell me much. ‘Son, after what’s gone on, we have enough to take Hendrickson down. You can concentrate on Cain.’
‘That’s not exactly true. You have only our testimonies on Hendrickson’s involvement. It was Petoskey and Baron who kidnapped Rink, Petoskey who murdered Louise Blake. Petoskey’s dead. You’ve no evidence to tie Hendrickson to any of it.’
‘We could bring him in on a conspiracy charge.’
‘Only for him to walk free again as soon as his attorney shows up.’ I paused, glanced back at Rink who was still in an exhaustion-induced sleep. ‘Look, I’ve got something to see to, but then I’ll bring in Hendrickson myself. But I can’t promise he’ll be fit for court.’
‘Bryce Lang was a good friend.’
Walter was giving me his blessing to do with Kurt Hendrickson what I wanted. Maybe he wanted to save taxpayers’ money by negating the need for a lengthy trial.
Chapter 22
The Challenger 604 private jet took its single passenger back to Kurt Hendrickson. It landed at a private airstrip and was met by a contingent of armed men. Not that Tubal Cain was concerned about them; these men were here to protect Hendrickson from someone other than him.
Hendrickson was sitting in the rear of a Lincoln town car. As soon as Cain was inside, an instruction was given to drive. The sedan was like a boat on wheels, and it drove like one, albeit a boat gliding on a smooth lake. A bodyguard sat up front alongside the driver. Ushering him inside, Hendrickson had made room for Cain in the back. They sat side by side, but the bench seat was large enough that there was room for two others between them.
Neither man wore a happy face.
‘When you are finished with Telfer, I want you to kill Joe Hunter slowly,’ Hendrickson said. ‘I want you to make the bastard suffer.’
The point was academic; that had always been Cain’s intention.
‘Problem?’ Cain’s damaged throat was handling words easier now that he was talking more regularly. Still, the sounds he made were like the rasp of steel on steel.
‘Hunter and Rington escaped.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Cain. ‘They were never going to give you Telfer’s location anyway. It was a stupid
