If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [100]
He surveyed the small room. There was a recent calendar on the far wall, a small metal desk and chair, and some boxes of wires and other electrical supplies.
The sound of a vehicle on the gravel road startled Tim. He propped the wood back up and skirted around the edge of the building to see who was coming. He heard but didn’t see the car. He glanced at his truck, visible from the long drive. No sense in hiding. He bolted to his truck and reached the driver’s side just as a big black F-350 came into view.
Two men with guns aimed at Tim jumped out of the slowing truck. He recognized them but didn’t remember their names. The driver stopped and opened his door. Tim knew Gary Clarke from the Lock & Barrel.
“Tim Hendrickson, right?” Gary said.
“Hello, Gary.”
“Funny thing is, we were looking for you.”
“Funny thing that you found me here.”
“Not really. We followed you from your place. I need Sean Rogan, but he wasn’t there.”
“I’ll give you his number.”
“Naw, you’re going to tell him to meet you at your house. He’s stirred up a bunch of shit, and I need to sit on him for a while, make sure he doesn’t get himself hurt.”
Gary motioned to one of the guys to grab Tim. Tim bolted, but hadn’t gotten far when Gary shot him in the leg. He went down fast, vision blurred, hot bolts of pain shooting up his left leg. He grabbed his thigh. The bullet had gone in right above his knee.
One of the guys searched him, taking his knife, flashlight, and cell phone. He tossed the phone to Gary. “I’ll just send Mr. Sean Rogan a little message that you’ll meet him at the house in an hour.” He looked at the phone, then started to laugh. “Shit, this is even better! I’m going to get a fucking gold star. We’ve been looking for that brat everywhere.”
He grinned and said as he typed, “What time should we meet?” A minute later he hollered and jumped in the air. “We’ve just redeemed ourselves, boys. I know where Rogan will be in an hour. We’re going to get there first.”
He pocketed Tim’s phone and took his car keys. He tossed the keys to one of his partners. “Follow me.” Gary glanced at Tim. Tim flipped him off.
“With that bum leg, I figure it’ll take you a day or two to get back to your place, if you survive the night. Good luck.”
They left.
The sun was nearly gone and the temperature would plummet. He glanced at the mine entrance, then at the outbuilding. The latter was closer, so he dragged himself over there.
He’d have to pry off another board or two to get inside, but he liked his chances of survival better in the building full of explosives than in the cold, deadly mine.
THIRTY-THREE
The sun was a thin line on the horizon by the time Noah flew Sean’s Cessna over the greater Spruce Lake area.
Lucy had the Argus thermal imaging camera in her hands. “Is this going to work?” she asked. She was familiar with the imaging technology, but didn’t think a handheld device had the range that surveillance aircraft did.
“It’s top of the line,” Noah said.
Lucy smiled. “Sean likes his toys.”
“The weather is perfect and the plane is in good shape,” Noah said, “but this is still a risky maneuver.”
“I don’t understand. Because of the trees? Or that it’s getting dark? Do we have to fly too low?”
Noah glanced at her. “You didn’t seem like a nervous flyer this morning.”
“I’m not, usually.” She wouldn’t admit to it, at any rate. She didn’t consider herself phobic about flying. She was just having a touch of nerves when they flew low over rolling mountains with trees suddenly popping up here and there while she looked for a barn full of cannabis through a thermal imaging camera.
“The terrain is not my primary concern. I’ve flown under far worse conditions. I’m more concerned about ground security. We may draw unwanted attention.” He checked his gauges and slowly descended as they approached the town boundaries. “I don’t think Sean realizes this is like finding a needle in a haystack.”
They’d discussed strategy during the flight.