'I've been waiting for you,' he replied, as he raised a sap from behind his back. She saw the blow coming, tried to sidestep it, and drove the palm of her hand at Meehan's nose. He turned his head and the blow caught him on the cheek. She clawed for his eyes with her fingers as he hit her hard with the sap above her ear. She was unconscious before the side of her head bounced against the doorjamb. Meehan grabbed her as she fell and carried her inside. She woke up handcuffed, tied to a straight-backed chair, with her feet bound. Fred Utiey, sprawled on his side, his cheek pressed against the carpet, stared at her with a dead, startled eye. A gun stuck out of his mouth and his lips were seared black with powder burns. Sara felt her stomach turn over. She swallowed, held her breath until the sensation passed, and looked for Meehan. He sat on the couch at the far side of the room with a boyish, pleased smile. The back of her head hurt like hell. She raised her wrists away from the small of her back, and handcuffs bit into the bone.
'Why did you kill Fred?' she asked, concentrating on Meehan to avoid the grotesqueness on the floor.
'He killed himself,' Meehan answered casually. 'The strain of becoming a rich man was just too much for him. What kind of funeral do you think he'd like?'
'Didn't you ask?'
'I didn't have the time,' Meehan said.
'I think something original would suit him. A Tibetan ritual, perhaps. By ancient tradition they put bodies on a mountainside for the vultures to pick clean. Do you think Fred would like that?' Sara shrugged.
'How about you? What kind of funeral would you like?'
'Full military honors,' Sara answered.
'Something you'll never get.' Meehan laughed. 'You're so spunky.' He got up from the couch and stood over her, rubbing his hands.
'A spunky, meddlesome cunt in uniform.'
'Fuck off, Jim.' He slapped her.
'Pissing me off isn't smart.' He smiled and walked behind the chair. Sara froze when she felt his fingers on her shoulders. Gently, he rubbed her neck.
'You're all tensed up.'
'Take your hands off me.' He tightened his fingers around her neck.
'I want the coins and letters.'
'I don't have them.'
Meehan laughed. 'That's what Kerney said before he died in Juarez.' He felt her stiffen. He twisted her face upward, forcing her to look at him.
'You must be bad luck, Sara. Both of the men you were fucking are dead.' He could feel Sara's jaw tighten as she clamped her mouth shut. He released her face and patted her cheek.
'We'll keep Fred company for a while,' he informed her cheerfully.
'It will give you time to think about your options.' Humming to himself, he turned out the lights and returned to the couch. *** Eddie stopped the car in a parking lot on the El Paso side of the bridge. The stink from Kerney's vomit had dissipated enough to make breathing bearable. He could hardly believe all the stuff the lieutenant had told him about a secret cave with hidden treasure. It sounded like something out of the movies.
'Your turn,' Kerney prompted.
Eddie told him what he knew about Benton and De Leon.
The main problem, Kerney mused, was putting the final pieces together before they ran out of time. 'Did Benton mention any names when he was talking with De Leon he asked.
'No.'
'We need to find out more about him,' Kerney proposed as he opened the car door.
'I'll backtrack on Benton,' Eddie volunteered.
'Maybe I can find out where he was staying, where he hung out-that sort of stuff.'
'You need to get that arm looked after,' Kerney countered.
'I will. You're not in great shape yourself,' Eddie reminded him.
'I'll survive,' Kerney said.
'Okay, see what you can dig up. I'll let Sara know what you're doing.'
Kerney pulled himself out of the car, his hand gripping the door to keep his balance.
'Thanks.'
Kerney shut the door and looked at Eddie through the open window. 'Don't thank me. I owe you a lot. I'm too old to be brawling in dark alleys with guys like Benton. Leave a message with Sara Brannon if you find anything.' Eddie nodded. 'You're heading back to the base?'
'Yeah. Be careful, Eddie.'
'You got it, Lieutenant,' Eddie said, shifting the car into gear. He watched Kerney hobble to his truck. The vehicle lurched and stalled as Kerney tried to drive away. He cranked the truck engine again, eased the clutch out, and rolled slowly through the parking lot.
Kerney was some piece of work, Eddie decided. With the odds totally against him, Kerney had stood his ground and done a lot of damage before Benton had him down. Eddie wondered if he could do as well under the same circumstances. *** The living room was dark except for the weak light that spilled into the room from the kitchen and illuminated Fred's body. Meehan was behind her, and all Sara could hear was the sound of his breathing. The handcuffs were killing her, and she had lost most of the sensation in her fingers. She tried moving her hands to restore the circulation and bit her lip to keep from gasping with pain. She heard the rustling of clothing as Meehan paced behind her chair.
Was Kerney really dead? She didn't want to believe it, but the possibility plagued her. She needed to stop dwelling on it and stay focused on Meehan-stay angry. He planned to kill her, she was sure of it, but he was waiting for something to happen first. It gave her time. She made another attempt to force her finger into the back pocket of her jeans. She'd stopped for gas in town and out of habit had stuck the charge slip in her pocket. She brought her hands as high as she could and wiggled a finger into the pocket. Meehan heard the sound.
'Are the handcuffs too tight?' She froze.
'Yes. Please loosen them.'
'I don't think so,' he said after a long pause. He started pacing again, and she dug her finger back into the pocket. The receipt was crumpled and wedged in a corner. She inched it slowly along the seam and checked her movement when Meehan stopped pacing. In the mirror above Fred's body she could see his silhouette. His back to her, he gazed out the patio door. Slowly she wiggled the receipt free, and it fell out. She probed for it on the chair cushion but couldn't find it, so she shifted her fanny to the back of the chair, hoping to conceal it.
'Restless?' Meehan asked, turning toward her.
His thoughts were on Benton. The phone call was way overdue. Each minute added to the chance of discovery. He needed to move on.
'Bored,' Sara replied. Her class ring was almost over the knuckle of her finger. She kept pressing against it with her thumb.
'You've been very patient. I appreciate that.' He came around the chair and stood directly in front of her, his groin inches from her face. She pulled back her head and closed her eyes, waiting for him to touch her again. He stroked her face with the back of his hand.
'It's time to go,' he announced.
'I'm fine right where I am,' Sara snapped. The ring came off her finger, and she palmed it.
'Why are you always so bitchy?' Meehan inquired, as he slipped on the latex gloves.
'Nothing seems to please you.' He untied the rope from around the chair and pulled her to him so she could feel his erection. She tensed up nicely. He released her, turned on a table lamp, and put the chair back in its original position.
Meehan didn't notice the credit card receipt on the cushion; he was busy rubbing the chair's indentations from the carpet with the heel of his shoe. Satisfied, he turned off the lamp, grabbed her around the waist, and dragged her out of the house.
At the Cherokee, he bent her facedown over the hood and fished the car keys from her pocket. She dug her heels in the gravel as he yanked her to the passenger door. When he reached to open it, Sara dropped the ring. Meehan pushed her inside the Jeep, walked to the driver's side, and got behind the wheel. Two clues, she thought gratefully. Enough to raise suspicion, if found. Much better than nothing. The night was warm and still. A million
