Hound Page 6
They drove the rest of the way to Orillia in icy silence. When they arrived, OPP Headquarters was humming. Their preparations were gathering pace. Sykes must be planning to return to the meadow before daybreak. Now she was sorry for having challenged him so aggressively.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Secluded in his basement library, Hound settled into his vast leather armchair and closed his eyes. He slowed his breathing and sought the place in his mind where he went to meditate on things that perplexed him and focused his thoughts on Jackie Caldwell.
Her tracks in the forest north of Conroy had led straight to his cave, and then away from it to a nearby stream and waterfall. But why had she headed that way, and where did she go then? Her tracks had vanished at the water’s edge. She might have crossed the stream by stepping from stone to stone, although he’d found no signs of this. And he hadn’t found any tracks leading away from the water. He’d given up and turned his attention elsewhere.
He was sure Jackie didn’t just kill at random, despite the number of people she’d murdered. She always killed with a purpose. Rebecca was undoubtedly on her list, in retribution for Steven Bradley’s shady deeds. Hound knew he must be on it too, being Rebecca’s staunch protector. He wondered whether Kingsley was also in danger. Would Jackie still love him after he sent a hit man to kill her? And what would Kingsley do when he found out she had shot the hitman? Send more men to finish the job? Kingsley knew how deadly she could be, and he wasn’t brave. He’d be terrified that she would come after him. Then again, if Jackie did still love him, she might go to Hamilton to find him and be with him, bizarre as that might seem. So, if she wasn’t captured in the forest near Conroy, he might be able to catch her in Hamilton.
For several hours, Hound sat examining every possibility. Then it struck him — the abandoned gold mine! She might go there. He’d been there once with Rebecca and O’Reilly. They found no evidence of recent activity, but there were usable buildings at the site, although they were in poor condition after more than two decades of neglect.
Hound decided to check the site before dawn, in order to get a head start on Sykes and his team. He figured the wily DI would show up earlier than he’d said. He might even arrest him for interfering with a police investigation. Hound was certain they would begin their search from the small meadow where the murder had taken place, and then fan outwards, taking in the clearing beside the cave. If he went straight to the mine site, he could get a jump on them.
Hound rose, exhausted, from the armchair, and trudged upstairs to his bedroom, set the alarm for four a.m. and fell into bed.
Chapter Fourteen
Another horrible Christmas spent with Dad, in spite of my efforts to rebuild our relationship. We spent most of the holiday just sitting across from each other, looking glum. The rift that’s opened between us is too wide to heal quickly. I still want to question him about Mom, and he knows it, even if I didn’t raise the subject then. I’ll give up for a while, but not for long.
— From the diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (January 2, 2006)
Monday, October 1, 2007
The search team’s preparations were completed by two in the morning and Rebecca went home to grab a few hours’ sleep. The team would depart from Orillia at six o’clock, about an hour before daylight. The search from the meadow would commence at the crack of dawn. Sykes had told her he hoped to intercept Hound and forestall his foolhardy hunt for Jackie.
At her condo, Rebecca took a shower and climbed into bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. She kept fretting about Hound. When she got up at a quarter to six, her head was heavy, and her eyes were sore and dry. She splashed cold water on her face, dressed quickly and buckled on her gun belt.
She opened the front door of her condo, and, fumbling with her keys, managed to drop them. Bending down to pick them up saved her life. A bullet ripped into the doorframe exactly where her head had been. Rebecca immediately leapt backwards into the condo and rolled away from the doorway. Two more bullets zipped through, blasting holes in the drywall above her as, on her hands and knees, she scrambled along the floor, covered in chunks of plaster and flaky paint.
She hid in the hall closet and, with a shaking hand, drew her gun. There was no doubt about who had fired at her. For a few seconds she remained where she was, too afraid to move. Then she pulled herself together and crawled down the hall and into the front bathroom, where she took out her cellphone and called Sykes. He answered at once.
“Sir, I’m at my condo. I’ve been shot at. I’m sure it was Jackie Caldwell.” she had some trouble getting the words out.
Sykes told her to stay put while he sent help. They’d be there in a few minutes.
Despite her fear, Rebecca had a mad impulse to go out and try to capture Jackie before they arrived.
Chapter Fifteen
Monday, October 1, 2007
Hound slipped out the back door of his house at half past four and made for his Bentley. As he went, he surveyed the surrounding fields, listening for telltale sounds and sniffing the air, trying to detect Jackie’s distinctive scent. When he got to the car, he slid into the driver’s seat, fired the ignition and motored slowly along the gravel driveway, keeping a careful watch for any movement. It was unlikely that Jackie would tackle him on his home turf, although he knew he shouldn’t make any assumptions where Jackie was concerned.
Now that he was doing something at last, he felt calm, almost serene. He had always enjoyed tracking wild animals. It involved a degree of danger, but trapping Jackie would be perilous, especially if he wanted to capture her alive. He wasn’t religious, but nevertheless he hoped that Abigail somehow knew he was doing this for her, as well as for himself and Rebecca. He’d felt helpless when Abigail died, and had wondered if he was to blame in some way. She had been his only confidante, and he hers. Why hadn’t she come to him when she found out that her lover, Herman Vogel, was managing her father’s investment in Kingsley’s deals?
Tears welled in Hound’s eyes.
* * *
Half a mile from the abandoned mine site, Hound brought his Bentley to a halt. The pre-dawn darkness made it difficult to see his surroundings clearly. He opened the car door, eased himself out, and disappeared into the trees, hoping to sneak up to the mine site undetected.
Twenty minutes later, crouched low behind a clump of bushes, Hound waited in a state of nervous apprehension as the clouds on the eastern horizon began to turn pink. He strained to block out even the slightest unfamiliar sound. Jackie might be creeping up on him from somewhere in the forest. He knew he had to surprise her before she detected him.
Four hours later, there was still no sign of Jackie. The sun was bright in a cloudless blue sky. Maybe she wasn’t here after all. By now, DI Sykes and his search team would have scoured the area around the meadow and the cave and found no trace of her. He knew that the clever DI would explore other options. Sooner or later, Rebecca and O’Reilly would remember the mine site, and the search team would come here. They might even be on their way now.
What should he do? If he stayed where he was, Sykes would arrive and that would be the end of his jump on the search team. And if Jackie was nearby, she would hear the police coming and disappear into the forest. But if he moved out into the open to explore the site, she could shoot him. Should he abandon his search and join forces with DI Sykes — if he would have him? Or he could try to figure out where Jackie might be hiding and get to her before the police did. Or he could drive to Hamilton and look for her there, although that too might prove fruitless.
Hound decided to take his chances and check out the mine site. If Jackie was staying here, he’d find out soon enough. Sighing, he rose to his feet, parted the bushes and took a few tentative steps into the clearing. He stood still, waiting for a bullet to pierce his chest.
Other than birds and insects, silence prevailed. Two more steps forward . . . nothing. If Jackie wasn’t here, where was she?
&
nbsp; He went to the nearest building, a storage shed for mining equipment, long ago vandalized and cannibalized. The windows were smashed and the sheet metal siding had been stripped off the outer walls. Still, the basic structure was intact and could provide shelter, although it was out in the open.
Hound entered warily and looked around. Seeing no traces of habitation, he left the shed and searched the area again. Other than the boarded-up mine shaft, he couldn’t see anything that could be used as a hideout.
Sykes could arrive at any moment now. Time was running out. He hurried to the mine shaft and peered through the rotting boards at rusty wires and a twisted elevator cage. The shaft wasn’t as deep as he’d expected. If he squinted, he could see the bottom. He decided that Jackie couldn’t have come here after all — the buildings were too exposed and the mine itself was a death trap. If discovered, she wouldn’t be able to escape.
Dejected, he trudged back to the Bentley along a cracked and uneven mining road which was almost buried under wind-blown soil and scraggly weeds.
* * *
“Damn it!” DI Sykes kicked at a damp log blocking his path. Splinters of rotten and mouldy wood fell over his feet. “She’s not here. There’s no trace of her beyond what Hound discovered yesterday. We’re not going to find her.”
Hadi and Rebecca were standing a little way off, watching their irate boss. For an hour or so now, it had been evident that Jackie had abandoned the area. Sykes was venting the frustration they all felt. There was nothing more to say.
Sykes glared over Rebecca’s shoulder, and bellowed, “O’Reilly, get over here. On the double.”
O’Reilly hurried over and stood in front of him, panting. “Sir?”
“Put your thinking caps on,” Sykes said to the team. “Where else can we look?”
After a moment’s thought, O’Reilly said, “The mine site. I mean, where else would Jackie go to find shelter?”
“Of course,” Rebecca said. “Hound must have gone there this morning.” She checked her watch. “He’s had several hours’ head start on us.” She tried not to think about what might already have happened.
Chapter Sixteen
Monday, October 1, 2007
Seething with anger, Jackie left her new hideout shortly before noon. The Bradley bitch had been right in her crosshairs! Now she would have to wait a while before going after Rebecca again. She needed to clear out of Orillia fast before the police nabbed her. Ah well, there was another urgent piece of business to be taken care of today, something she should’ve done months ago when she’d had the chance.
Her rifle gripped in both hands, Jackie tramped along a narrow lane just north of Conroy. Should she be returning to the area so soon after the police had searched it? On the other hand, she’d eluded them for a full week now — sleeping in the cave on the first night of her escape, then travelling fifty miles north of Conroy to a wilderness shack the cops weren’t likely find quickly, if at all. She spent three nights at the shack, then returned to Hound’s cave, planning to head north again after the police were done searching up there. The Ford’s radio had kept her abreast of the news about her escape, and it also provided useful information on police deployments, although she didn’t trust it fully. This morning’s broadcast had contained a scathing indictment of the OPP’s failure to capture her, chiding the police for concentrating on Conroy. On thinking about it, Jackie decided the comments on the police’s movements rang true. She reasoned that it should be safe to stay in the cave for another day or two, and then move to a place near Conroy that she had in mind. It meant that one of her main tasks could be achieved — that of killing Hound.
Why had Hound visited his cave so soon after the police had been there? She cursed her rotten luck. Returning there on Saturday, five nights after her escape from prison, had been a calculated risk, as had been staying there on the first night. But her second visit had turned out to be a big mistake. Hound was heading towards the cave when he discovered the body in the meadow — dead for five days by then and overlooked by the blundering police during their search for her. Wisely, she had moved the syndicate man’s car from the meadow and dumped it into a deep pond. It was fortunate that she’d been in the woods on Sunday and had spotted Hound, although he was too far away to shoot. He was far too dangerous to be allowed to remain alive. But she’d soon have him. She was now camped out at the abandoned sawmill close to his house — somewhere even he wouldn’t suspect her to be.
Gazing across the hayfield separating Hound’s country house from the lane to the sawmill, Jackie was pleased that he was such a loner. It meant she didn’t have to sneak into Conroy to finish him off. It was his fault she wanted to kill him. His infatuation with Rebecca Bradley made him her mortal enemy. Because of that woman, he wouldn’t stop pursuing her until either she was caught or he was killed. And if anyone could find her hiding place up north, it would be Hound.
Jackie waded through the tall grass to a point about halfway across the field, and then crouched down, out of sight. Hound was like a wild animal, always alert and ready for action, and he had uncannily sharp senses. Jackie stayed low, edging forward and parting the grass. When she was two thirds of the way across the field, she stopped and squatted back on her heels. There was no need to hurry. A full hour later, with still no sign of Hound, she concluded that he’d gone out. She crawled towards the house, the rifle pressed firmly against her ribs. The closer she got, the more worried she became. Approaching Hound from upwind like this, he might catch her smell.
She halted fifty yards from the house and settled down to wait. She could easily kill him from here. One clear shot and her most dangerous foe would have been eliminated.
* * *
Hound thumped the steering wheel in frustration. He’d been certain that Jackie was at the mine site. Now he’d let Abigail down, as well as Rebecca, because she was still in danger.
Hound headed south on the Trans-Canada. As he drove, he called Duffy’s, using the cellphone that Shorty and Lukas had badgered him into getting.
“Hi, Daisy, it’s Hound. Are my pals there?”
“Of course. Where else?” Daisy giggled.
“Okay, dumb question. Tell them I’m on my way. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. What’s for lunch?”
“Cream of tomato soup and roast beef sandwich.” She paused. “Still off the milkshakes?”
“I’m afraid those days are over.” He sorely missed his milkshakes, but he was determined to lose weight. His month-old diet and vigorous home exercise program were beginning to show results, though far too slowly for his liking. He would have to beef up his exercise routine. He’d signed up for martial arts training, because you never knew when another Guido Daglioni might come along. Hound realized that Daisy was waiting on his reply.
“The special sounds good, Daisy. Use wholegrain bread and extra lean beef.”
“Sure thing, Hound. And there’s gallons of skim milk on hand.” She ended the call with a laugh.
Smiling, Hound settled into the soft leather seat of his car. His somber mood was beginning to lift, and he was looking forward to meeting his friends. Maybe they would have some fresh ideas on where Jackie might be hiding.
He pulled into Duffy’s parking lot just as Sally Partridge, Chief O’Reilly’s office assistant, was reaching to open the door. She turned and waved. He grinned and pointed his finger at a corner booth in Duffy’s. Here was his chance to find out what the OPP search team was up to.
Sally nodded and went inside.
Hound followed her in. With a glance at Shorty and Lukas, he went to the corner booth and squeezed in, across from Sally. Being alone with her always made him jittery. She was far too pretty, even if Rebecca had captured his heart.
“Hi there, Hound, it’s been a while.” Sally’s cobalt-blue eyes had that babylike way of staring at people unblinking. Hound began to melt. “From all the dirt on your beautiful old car, it looks like you’ve been tromping about the bush again. You should get a jeep, or b
etter still a Hummer.” She laughed merrily, but then appeared to be searching for something else to say. Hound stared nervously at her, also short of words. After a few seconds of silence, she said, “The chief told me you were looking for Jackie Caldwell.”
Hound tore his eyes from Sally’s gaze and glanced out the window. “No luck on that front, I’m afraid.” After making such a big fuss about going after Jackie on his own, he was embarrassed to admit that he’d failed.
“Don’t worry, Hound. The chief will catch her.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he will.” He grappled for words, until eventually coming out with, “Has O’Reilly, I mean the chief, checked in with you? How are things going with the search team?” A ray of sunlight glinted off her curly blonde hair. He swallowed loudly.
“Nothing new, I’m afraid. You’ll have to ask me later today.” Another awkward silence ensued, while Hound’s legs started to jog the table. He pushed them down, and cleared his throat. “Alright, then. Thanks, Sally. Talk to you later.” He slid from the booth and hurried over to join his friends.
“Well, look who it is. Hound, the famous bounty hunter. Got Jackie all trussed up and stuffed in the trunk of your Bentley?” Shorty grinned wickedly.
“Don’t I wish. But no, I’m just a small-town idiot who’s made a fool of himself. Again.” He looked at Lukas, who sat silently beside him.
“Hi, Lukas. How’re you doing today?”
Lukas stared back. His glassy eyes gave no indication that he’d even heard the question.
Daisy arrived just then bearing a plastic tray with a bowl of soup and a cold roast beef sandwich, along with a generous glass of skim milk. Hound gazed ruefully at the watery liquid, his mind picturing a jumbo-sized chocolate milkshake.
While Hound finished his soup, Shorty watched him in silence. Then he said, “It’s about time you called on your elite investigation team.” To Hound’s surprise, Lukas raised his hand an inch above the table and let it drop — at last, a flicker of life. Hound felt guilty about his friend’s continued apathy. Before he’d been wounded and nearly killed, Lukas had always been aloof but thoughtful, and his mental acuity and mocking sense of humour had endeared him to Hound. Now nothing appeared to be going on behind those drug-glazed eyes. Hound knew who was to blame — himself. Loyalty to him had drawn his pal into a life-threatening situation, left to confront several crime syndicate killers. Lukas was alive, but the spirit had been burnt out of him.