If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [119]
As best he could figure, Lowell wanted to use Bobbie’s pot warehouses to store the extensive collection of guns he sold—to anyone from foreign governments to revolutionaries to street gangs. Lowell didn’t have a secure storage facility in the Northeast and while Spruce Lake was remote, it had the advantage of a nearby private airstrip, privacy, and an established and protected distribution network.
When the Hendricksons announced they were opening their resort, Bobbie feared tourists would come across her pot farms, and Lowell was nervous about the added influx of people. Bobbie wanted to delay the resort opening, at least until her operation with Lowell was up and running. Carl came up with the sabotage plan, thinking the Hendricksons wouldn’t be able to open on time. When it became clear they still planned to open over Memorial Day weekend, Carl instructed Ricky to burn down the main lodge.
Bobbie had sold the remaining C-4 she’d gotten from Lowell and was supposed to deliver it to the buyer next week. That Jon used some of it to blow up her warehouses meant she couldn’t fulfill her obligation. That put her name and trustworthiness at risk—not good for business. Worse, though, was that she’d just lost her entire inventory of weed, meaning she wouldn’t be able to fill orders for months. Nor were her secure warehouses even standing. They would not be stowing Lowell’s guns anytime soon.
Jon Callahan had effectively destroyed her entire operations in one explosive night.
Carl said, “Shoot him on sight.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bobbie retorted.
Sean couldn’t see anything through the dark windows of the moving car. He calculated it would take only ten minutes to reach the mine. Think, Rogan.
“Arguing with Jon will only delay our departure.”
“I want my money and the rest of the C-4.”
If Sean were in her shoes, so would he. She needed the money to stay free, and alive.
“There are only a few places he could have put it. It’s either with him or at the bar,” Carl said. “He didn’t have more than a few hours to hide it.”
“Then we won’t just drive up where he expects us. Pull over here.”
Carl turned off the highway and onto an unpaved road. Sean had no idea where they were.
“We’ll go in on foot,” she said.
“It’s thirty degrees out there!” the reverend objected.
“Come on, old man, you have a coat.”
Carl didn’t look happy, and Sean had no idea how far they had to walk.
“What about him?” Carl glanced back to where Sean was handcuffed in the backseat.
“We might still need a hostage when we leave. We’ll kill him once we get into Canada. Make sure he’s secure,” Bobbie ordered.
Carl reached over the seat to check Sean’s cuffs. He then wrapped duct tape around his ankles and a strip across his mouth. “Not that anyone’s around to hear you. You just irritate me.”
With the car heater off, the temperature plummeted. They hadn’t given him back his jacket at the house, and Sean had on only jeans and a T-shirt.
As they sat in the car, Sean heard a truck on the highway pass them, then slow down.
“Who the hell was that?” Bobbie said. “It just turned down the road to the mine. White truck. Who has a white truck? It’s not Jon’s.”
“Let’s just leave,” Carl said. “I don’t like the feeling of this.”
“We’re not leaving without my money, or we might as well just turn ourselves in to the fucking police.”
Carl sighed, resigned, and opened the car door.
Bobbie turned in her seat to look at Sean. She double checked the handcuffs and duct tape. “Stay put, sugar.” Then she followed Carl into the woods.
Sean had rented a white truck. The last person driving it was Patrick.
FORTY
Omar stopped the truck on the edge of the road just before it opened into the Kelley Mine clearing. “We don’t have the element of surprise. Callahan’s waiting.”
Noah glanced around the perimeter. “I don’t see Lucy and Patrick.”
“We were closer when they called.”
Jon Callahan’s vehicle was parked to the side of a small,