Dark Witness Read online

  "She doesn't like to be touched, dude."

  CHAPTER 11

  I tremble. That's all I can do. I don't know this man, Duncan. I only know what he's told me, and it all seemed pretty okay. I believed that he and his friends would take care of us, which I am grateful for. Now here is Billy fighting with a holy guy. There are only two things to think. This man lied when he told me we are safe and Billy knows it. Or, two, something's happened to Billy and he's the freaking crazy guy.

  "Billy. Billy."

  The word sounded like Milly, but it didn’t matter what Hannah called him because he couldn't hear her. The two men kept shuffling and moving around the room in some weird guy dance. Glass crunched under their feet. They grunted. They breathed like bulls.

  "Billy?"

  This time when Hannah said his name it was a cry of disbelief. He heard it in his head, but his body didn't get the message. His hands were wrapped up in Duncan's jacket again, and Duncan's hands were on Billy's arms. Finally, with one huge shove, Billy pushed Duncan away. He was talking as he rushed to the bed.

  "I'm here. Hannah. Jesus, Hannah. Jesus. You're awake."

  "Billy. Billy." Hannah breathed his name over and over again.

  "Ah, heck, Hannah."

  Billy does what he didn't want Duncan to do. He touched her and then he stopped. His hand hovered over her head and to the side of her face as if he was afraid even the lightest touch would hurt her. Tears poured from his eyes, and wet his words, and Hannah laughed just a little.

  "Look as bad as you?" she mumbled through her swollen lips.

  "Worse, man. You look so much worse." He put his forehead on the mattress and let his hand fall onto her shoulder. The last time they touched, flying by one another as the truck tumbled down a mountain, she thought they were saying goodbye. This was a whole lot better. Billy lifted his head. He saw a tear course down her cheek and another hover at the corner of her good eye.

  "Awesome, Hannah," he whispered and scooped up the falling one.

  That was the same moment that Duncan's hand landed on his shoulder. Billy twirled, one leg up, the other still on the ground.

  "Get off me, dude," he growled

  Duncan held up his hands, but he didn't back away. He pointed to the floor. "The glass, Billy. You're kneeling on glass."

  Billy looked down at the scatter of shards and chunks of glass. A piece had punctured his already swollen knee. He lifted his knee to see the damage done.

  "I'll get Teresa to wash that out," Duncan offered.

  "No, dude. No, I'm good." He pushed aside the glass on the floor. "Sorry, man. Sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you."

  "Thank you, Billy. I appreciate that."

  Hannah handed him her towel. He knelt on it to stop the bleeding.

  "You just promised to tell me when she woke up," he muttered. "That's all I asked you to do. You know, talk to me dude."

  "I heard glass breaking. I thought it was more important to check on Hannah first, don't you?" Duncan pointed to the floor again. "There's more near you. On the left. Do you see it? Billy? Do you see it?"

  "I see it. I got it." Billy snapped, his temper barely under control.

  "Duncan. That's my name," Duncan reminds him, "Say, 'I see it, Duncan'. I'm sorry, Billy, I've explained that's the way we do things here. We say our names and validate. . "

  "I got, it," Billy said. "I'll clean it up – Duncan."

  "That's great, Billy. It really is. We don't want anyone else getting hurt. Especially not Hannah." Duncan didn't back off as much as he proved to be the adult on the playground. He picked up the fallen chair and set it right. He pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Sit here, Billy. Sit down so you're not on the glass."

  Billy looked at him and at the chair.

  "Please," Hannah said.

  For her, he sat on the chair. He put the towel over his knee. It hurt like the blazes, but he didn't want Duncan to know that. He was tired of all the help that didn't feel like help at all. Duncan was mightily pleased that everything had worked out.

  "I'll leave you if that's alright, Hannah?"

  She nodded. Billy smiled at her with his beautiful Billy smile.

  "I'll leave the door open," he said. "Hannah, I'm so pleased you are back with us. Maybe now that you're awake, Billy will get some rest. Try to convince him to do that."

  "Thank you, Duncan."

  Hannah spoke to Duncan, but she was looking at Billy with his splinted hand, his mottled bruises, and skid-mark scrapes. He was pale, his eyes sunken and purple dark.

  "I'm so sorry," Hannah whispered. "It's my fault. All of it."

  She reached out and Billy scooted his chair closer until his knees were touching the mattress.

  "I thought you were a goner," Billy said.

  "So happy to see you. So happy," she murmured.

  "We're going to get well, Hannah," Billy said. "We'll go home when you're better. I'll get you home. Don't worry. Don't worry."

  He leaned ever closer to her. All she could see was Billy until Duncan startled them both.

  "Dear Lord, thank you for delivering Hannah and Billy to us. Give us the strength to keep them safe. . ."

  Billy stiffened. Hannah looked at Duncan and tried to smile. There is a ripple of pity in the smile Duncan gives back, but Hannah thinks it's directed at Billy more than her.

  "I told you, we don't do religion," Billy said.

  "There's been a lot of praying for you. Sort of a hard habit to break," Duncan answered.

  "It's okay," Hannah said and that was all it took to make him smile and split his face into two happy parts.

  "You're welcome." He was about to leave but he had one more thing on his mind. "You're just kids. Someone should have done something more to help you."

  He's gone. Billy's shoulders fell, his forehead went into his raised palm as if Duncan's departure was a physical relief. Hannah closed her eyes, but the side of her lips that wasn't swollen tipped up.

  Hannah Sheraton has waited a lifetime for someone to say those words. Here, in the middle of Alaska, is a man with half-mast eyes who looked at her, and saw that she was just a kid. That was as much a miracle as being alive.

  ***

  The little plane dipped, vibrated and rose again, flying smoothly for as long as it took the wind to catch its breath and blow again. Nell took the roller coaster ride in stride. Beside her Andre Guillard, Alaska State Trooper, assigned to accompany the two VIPS from California to the site of the truck crash was out of sorts and didn't care about the weather. He was peeved to be babysitting these folks, unhappy that his supervisor had told him to get over it, and vexed to find himself in this plane.

  Behind Andre, Archer looked out the window and gave no indication that the weather bothered him. Behind Nell, Josie Bates looked out the other window. Her lower lip was caught under her top teeth, and her brow was furrowed. She wasn't crazy about the turbulence, but that was nothing compared to the sick feeling she had as she looked at the land below. The Alaskan wilderness was a whole lot of nothing.

  From the first call, Alaskan authorities had been clear. Josie Bates should accept the inevitable. Hannah and Billy would not be coming home. The driver of the rig was not only dead; he was dead and dismembered by the elements and animals. Hannah's duffle was found inside the truck, but there was no evidence that Hannah herself had been there at the time of the crash. Ditto with Billy Zuni. And, they were sorry to be blunt, if the teenagers had been inside that truck and miraculously survived, and even more miraculously gotten out of the container, they were most certainly dead by now. Their remains would never be found. That was how formidable the Alaskan wilderness was.

  They were sorry.

  They wish they could be more optimistic.

  They would call if they found anything.

  Stay home, Ms. Bates.

  That was not an option she told them and then went on to share her plan. First, they would make arrangements for someone to accompany her to the crash site and, second, they
would provide unfettered access to their reports. To make sure they did not mistake her intent, Josie pulled rank. The Hermosa Beach PD was the first domino to fall. They had seen the brutality Gjergi Isai was capable of, and they knew that there was a real possibility that others would come from Albania in search of Billy Zuni. No one wanted a reprise of what happened in Hermosa Beach, least of all the Alaskan authorities. When Alaskan authorities did not respond appropriately, The Hermosa Beach PD made contact with their FBI counterparts in the Eastern European Organized Crime Division. The FBI pinged back to the head of the Alaska Bureau of Investigation to inform them that the two missing persons were involved in an international incident.

  They further informed Alaska that Ms. Josie Bates had been a government witness at the behest of Senator Ambrose Patriota, possibly the next president of the United States, and their cooperation with her would be greatly appreciated. It escaped Alaska's notice that the FBI did not open their own investigation nor did they offer to send agents to assist the Alaska Troopers. They did not offer to reimburse the state of Alaska for time and resources, but the fact that the FBI had taken an interest in this incident seemed to be enough to put Alaska on notice. Thankfully, none of these folks had been informed that Josie Bates was on Senator Ambrose Patriota's hit list and the federal government would probably be happy if she was left in Alaska as bear bait.

  The result of all this strong-arming was a promise that Josie Bates could accompany Trooper Andre Guillard who was assigned to collect remains and secure the site. Ms. Bates and her investigator had forty-eight hours to get to Alaska or they would be left behind. Terms were agreed to and here they were in a plane that seemed mighty small in comparison to the never ending sky and the uninhabited land below.

  Nell touched Andre's arm and gave him a signal. Andre swiveled and held up five fingers. Josie nodded, and as Andre turned away again Archer brought Josie's hand up to his lips and gave her a kiss for luck.

  They both zipped up their jackets and put on their gloves as Nell started the descent. The wind picked up. The plane teeter-tottered and then the wings dipped perilously. Nell flipped switches, swore, swore again, and kept the plane on course through clouds and snow until touching down in a small clearing Josie hadn't been able to see in the never-ending carpet of trees. Nell cut the engines, took off her earphones, turned around, and looked at Josie.

  "This is as close as I can get you. I have to leave by three. That gives you seven hours up and back. You good with that?"

  Josie nodded. Nell gave Archer an optical prompt. He nodded, too.

  "Okay, then. The only way out is the way you came in. Andre?"

  The trooper opened the door and said: "Let's do it."

  Three tall people piled out of the plane on one side, Nell jumped to the ground on the other. Archer, broadest of them all, squeezed out and hit the ground hard. He shook his head and snapped the collar of his jacket up so that it created a cuff around his chin. He put his hands out for Josie. She held onto one hand even after she was on the ground.

  "Pretty unforgiving place," she said.

  "I think it's safe to say we're not in Kansas anymore," Archer muttered.

  "Don't let it get you down. Soon as we find Dorothy and Toto we're out of here."

  Archer chuckled. He didn't think there was a snowball's chance of finding those two kids, but Josie didn't have the word defeat in her vocabulary. She was determined this would be a successful mission. What Josie didn't acknowledge was that success came in many forms. In this case, finding a couple of bodies might have to be considered a win. Archer gave her hand a squeeze and went to help Nell. Josie went to where Andre Guillard was doing the same on the near side.

  "That's a lot of gear for a couple hours," Josie said.

  "This isn't a sightseeing tour, Ms. Bates." He pulled a pack from the wing compartment. "I have a few things to do up there."

  "I get that," she answered. "I just thought it might help if we divvy it up some. We could go faster that way. It's a lot for one man to carry."

  "Ever walk in snow, Ms. Bates?" Andre checked the lay of the load inside the first pack.

  "I've done my share of skiing," she answered.

  "Skiing isn't walking." Andre pulled a second bag from the wing. This one clanked and through the fabric Josie could see the outline of chain links.

  "I play beach volleyball," she said. "If I can run across the sand, I think I can handle a little snow."

  Andre stopped what he was doing. He rested his weight on one foot and his arm on the wing. He wanted to dislike Josie Bates but it was hard. She wasn't at all what he expected. She had sharp eyes. She pretty much kept to herself and when she asked a question there was a reason. She was a confident and tenacious lady who believed she could handle anything without breaking a sweat. If he were a betting man, Andre would put his money on this trip taking her down a peg or two.

  "I grew up on a coast," Andre said. "Florida. I've run on sand. It's not easy. Still, I think you'll find this a little harder."

  He slung the larger pack onto his back and stooped to pick up the smaller, heavier one but Josie took hold of it at the same time. He stood up and so did she. The bag was between them.

  "Look," she said. "I want to be really clear about why we're here, so you don't think this is some stunt. Hannah is my ward. She is one heroic, gritty girl. I can't begin to describe what she's been through, and not just because of this incident with Gjergy Isai. A lesser person would be dead by now or in an asylum. We're here because she deserves to be given every consideration. We are not here because we don't trust your assessment of the situation so don't take this personally."

  "Understood." Andre kept his gaze steady and, though he would have denied it, Josie was sure she saw a wry glint behind his eyes, as if he had heard it all before.

  "Yeah. Sure," she mumbled and pulled on the pack again. "I'll take it."

  Andre seemed to smile, but it was hard to tell beneath the beard and mustache. She was getting majorly ticked off, but not as ticked off as Andre was getting. He pulled on the pack.

  "Trust me. I'll carry it."

  "I'd let her have it, Guillard."

  Archer and Nell had come around the tail of the plane in time to see the stand off. They distracted Andre just long enough for Josie to take possession of the pack.

  "Suit yourself." He stepped aside. "The one you have is the heaviest. If it was my lady, I'd lend a hand."

  "Then she probably wouldn't be your lady long," Archer said.

  Josie gave him a nod. There was a reason they were going to spend their lives together. He knew when to step back and let her carry the load. She threaded her arms through the harness.

  "Which way?" she asked.

  Andre started to walk. Josie fell in behind him and Archer pulled up the rear.

  "Good luck," Nell called and Josie raised a hand in thanks.

  Nell watched until they were out of sight before she set up her own camp. When she was done, as she sat in her small tent, she realized she wasn't wondering about what they were going to find out there. She was thinking how well Andre looked with that woman. She was also thinking how glad she was that he would never notice.

  ***

  Andre didn't have to look at Josie Bates to know that he had been right about running on sand and trudging through the snow. She had gone further than he expected and done so without complaint, but she was struggling. Archer was the one to call a halt at the second mile mark, but Bates stayed upright, her legs splayed in the snow, her fists tight around the harness, eyes forward.

  They rested in silence until Andre started them off again. Forty minutes later they were at the site, and Josie Bates was the first to toss aside her pack. She was already prowling the perimeter of the wreck by the time the men put their loads on the ground. She swished away snow on one of the boxes and noted Andre's markings. When Andre joined her he was efficient and professional, showing her what was left of the driver's body, the point of departure from th
e road, the chain, and lock on the back of the container, and filling her in on the details of the cargo. She asked about the trucker, and Andre ran it down. His name was Joseph Green. He owned the rig. It was uninsured. There was nothing to indicate who he was hauling for or what his destination was. Andre had someone tracking down the cargo. They had the manufacturer, but they were not showing paperwork for a shipment of those lot numbers.

  "Inside job. Maybe a friend of this guy worked for the company and loaded for Green after hours," Archer suggested.

  "Could be," Andre agreed. "If that's the case, no one's going to come out of the woodwork and admit it."

  "Where do you think he would have been heading?" Josie asked as they all ambled toward the back of the truck again.

  "I have no idea. That road up there isn't on any map. I'll have to drive it to see where it ends up. Nell can spot for a while, but we can't get the whole thing from the air. Pretty much it's a guess at this point where it dumps out," Andre said.

  "And what about the cargo? What's it used for?" Archer asked.

  "Liquid nicotine is used in insecticide. When it's super diluted, it's used in those e-cigarettes. Could be he was just taking this to wherever he lived to dilute it and resell it. He could send it anywhere once he did that. If he didn't do it right, though, he could kill a whole bunch of folks including himself. That stuff is three times more toxic than arsenic."

  "Ouch," Archer muttered.

  "The general public would never know. I wouldn't," Josie mused. "I just think nicotine is nicotine. They put it in gum, on patches, in cigarettes."

  "Inhaling isn't the problem when it's in this form," Andre said. "Get it on your skin or ingest it, and you're in trouble. Vomiting. Seizures. Death. It's fast."

  "I haven't heard about any big underground push for this stuff," Archer said and looked at Andre. "You?"