C Box: Blue Heaven

Newkirk couldn’t figure out what Singer was thinking. The plan the lieutenant had come up with had been simple: cut the power and phone, set up at the gate, wait for Rawlins to come to them. When the rancher got out of his truck to unlock the chain, they would cut him down in a cross fire. Then, using the rancher’s rifle, they’d take care of the Taylors, implicating Rawlins. Newkirk would get the UPS truck and drive it down and hide it in the rancher’s barn. That way, there would be a link between Boyd and the rancher-two secret pedophiles, one who kidnapped and delivered the children and the other who abused and murdered them. Just like Fiona Pritzle’s theory, only a little more lurid. Then call it all in to the sheriff after it was over; say, “It happened so fast, we had no choice but to return fire.”

But the rancher never came. And Newkirk knew that the rancher had Villatoro, so that might complicate things. But Singer didn’t know that.

Newkirk noticed Singer looking at his own wristwatch with more frequency as the night went on. If the lieutenant was worried, he didn’t show it. But he never showed anything.

When the handheld chirped, Newkirk jumped, causing the pounding to resume in his head.

Singer snatched the receiver, whispered, “Gonzo? Is that you?”

A beat. “It’s me. I’m approaching the gate. Don’t let Newkirk shoot me.”

A moment later, Newkirk saw a dark form emerge from the shadows of the heavy timber, a glint of a rifle barrel in the starlight as Gonzalez climbed through the barbed wire of the fence. Then the sergeant was at the driver’s side window, next to Singer.

Gonzalez said, “I walked the fence line and ran into your banker. Who the hell knows why he was out there, he surprised the shit out of me. I thought it was that cowboy trying to get away on his own on horseback. He won’t be a problem for us no more.”

“Jesus,” Newkirk said.

Gonzo’s teeth reflected blue as he smiled. “One shot and he went down. The horse ran off. I guess you didn’t hear the shot, eh?”

“We heard it,” Singer said, distracted. Then: “I didn’t expect that. I didn’t think Hearne would be around. How did that happen?”

Gonzalez shrugged. “Who knows? There’s always something.”

Newkirk thought, There’s more …

“I went down the road until I could see the house,” Gonzo said softly. “I thought I saw a light once through a window, but when I looked through the scope I couldn’t see anything. The house is dark, and nobody’s moving that I could see.”

“Is the rancher’s pickup there at the house?”

Gonzo nodded. “It’s parked in front. He’s there, all right. Another car is there, too. I’d guess it was the banker’s.”

“Maybe they’re sleeping,” Newkirk said, his voice a croak. “Maybe they don’t even know they don’t have power. Maybe the Taylors aren’t even there.”

Singer and Gonzalez both looked at him, said nothing, dismissing him. Newkirk closed his eyes, tried to shut out the hurt of humiliation, tone down the pounding in his head.

“Could you see another way out, besides this road?” Singer said. “The map shows a road out to the south, but it’s a hell of a long way to get to the highway.”

Gonzalez shook his head. “You mean if they walked out? Or took another vehicle? I don’t think so. There’s a big meadow in back of the house, and I could see it pretty good through the scope. I couldn’t see anybody on foot, and I didn’t hear any motors.”

Singer processed the information, rubbed his nose with his index finger while he did so.

The radio came to life. “This is USGID-4 in Boise for Sheriff Ed Carey. Come in, Sheriff Carey.”

“The chopper pilot,” Singer said, looking at the radio.

“This is Sheriff Carey.” He sounded wide-awake, Newkirk thought.

“The chopper’s fueled and ready, and we’ve got clearance,” the pilot said. “We’ve got just about everybody on board.”

“Well,” Carey said, “come on up. I’ll start a pot of coffee. When do you think you’ll be here?”

The pilot said, “ETA is 0600.”

“About an hour then,” Carey said.

“Roger that.”

“An hour,” Singer repeated.

“I wonder if Carey told him about this place?” Gonzo asked. Singer shrugged. “I doubt it. That would make too much sense.”

“What if they come over the top of us on the way to town? I think we’d be right on their flight path,” Gonzo said. “Or fly straight here? Shit.”

Singer rubbed his nose again. “We can use this to our advantage,” he said.

Newkirk wondered how.

Snatching the mike from the cradle, Singer keyed it and spoke, “Sheriff, this is Singer. Do you read me?”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Carey answered. “I didn’t realize you were on the frequency.”

Newkirk listened for skepticism or anger in Carey’s tone. He heard neither, only a profound bone-weariness.

“Yes, Sheriff,” Singer said. “I’ve been monitoring communications. Right now, our position is directly across from the Rawlins Ranch. We think he has them in his house.”

Silence. Newkirk could imagine Carey, suddenly confused, wondering what to do next.

“Sheriff, we’ve cut off the power and communications to the subject’s home. We’re waiting for him to come out.”

“For God’s sake, Lieutenant,” Carey sputtered, “who authorized you to do that? Who do you have there with you?”

Newkirk saw the faint smile form on Singer’s lips. “Sergeant Gonzalez and Officer Newkirk are with me. Officer Swann is here, too. He checked himself out of the hospital so he could be of service. As for authorization, no one, sir. We took it upon ourselves as deputized officers. We want to make sure the subject doesn’t escape before you and the FBI arrive.”

“What if he’s listening to us now?” Carey said.

“I repeat, all power and communications have been cut off. There’s no way he can hear us, Sheriff.”

“Oh, yes, you said that. I don’t know, Lieutenant…”

“Would you like us to withdraw, sir?” Singer asked reasonably. “We can do so, but we risk the possibility of the subject escaping, or further hurting those kids and the mother. But we’ll withdraw if you give us the command, sir.”

Newkirk found himself marveling at Singer’s ability to turn Carey any way he wanted. The sheriff couldn’t risk making another mistake.

“I’m just not comfortable with you up there,” Carey said, his voice hesitant. “We don’t know if we’ve got the right guy.”

“Again, sir,” Singer said, “we will withdraw upon your command.”

“You shouldn’t have gone up there in the first place without talking with me.”

“I’m aware of that, sir. It was a decision we made after we saw Mr. Swann in the hospital, beaten within an inch of his life by the subject.”

Gonzalez turned away from Singer’s window, and Newkirk could hear him snort with laughter.

The radio remained silent for a few moments. Then: “Okay, Lieu-tenant. But stay put. Do not engage the subject in any way until we get there. I repeat, do not engage the subject.”

Singer looked up, made an exaggerated face of disappointment. “Roger that, Sheriff. We will remain in place without engagement unless the subject confronts us.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about…”

“Roger that, Sheriff,” Singer said, talking over him, then hanging up the mike and reducing the volume to zero.

“Okay,” Singer said, looking at his watch. “We’ve got about an hour before dawn.”

Singer looked up. “Gonzo, you ready?”

Gonzalez nodded. Newkirk could see starlight reflect from his teeth.

“Newkirk?”