Read The Guardian Page 21


  His voice softened, pleading. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, Danni. And we need that from you right now, not some emotional meltdown because you’re tired.”

  Though I was still seething inside, his words gave me pause. I took a deep breath, then another. Somehow I managed a smile. “Wow! Did you just pay me a compliment?”

  My bad. Apparently, humor is not the proper response when the volcano is about to erupt.

  “It’s not funny, Danni. You keep going on like this—full throttle— when you don’t even know which direction you’re going, and someone’s going to get hurt. Or worse.”

  That hurt so intensely that for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His eyes were like flint. Cody looked like he was going to burst into tears. It was more than I could take. Feeling my own tears surging up, I whirled and started to walk away.

  “Danni,” Cody cried, stricken. “Don’t go. We’ll do whatever you think is best.”

  I spun back around. “Don’t you get it? I don’t know what’s best. I don’t know what I’m doing. You’re absolutely right, Rick. Full throttle, no direction—that’s me.”

  He started to speak, but I held up my hands, cutting him off. “No more body blows, please. That’s enough for one day. Just leave me alone.” I turned my back on them and walked swiftly away.

  “Danni?”

  I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back.

  “Remember, you are unique.”

  I whirled back again, crushed and beaten. “Stop it!”

  “You are, Danni. Can’t you see that? You’re smart, funny, creative, a joy to be around, and—” Rick exhaled in exasperation. “And beautiful. And maddening and stubborn and . . . beautiful.”

  “Please,” I whispered. “Don’t.”

  “You’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever known.”

  I clapped my hands over my ears and closed my eyes.

  “And you need to remember that your life has a purpose, Danni,” he said loudly. “And in this hour, that purpose is to save your family. You can’t walk away from that.”

  “Yes, I can,” I cried. “I have to. Don’t you see, if I keep going the way I’m going, someone is going to get hurt. You said so yourself.”

  He started toward me, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle and soft. “No, Danni, you can’t walk away. You really can’t. It’s not in your nature. And that’s what makes you so unique. That’s what makes you what you are. That’s part of your gift, Danni.”

  Stop! I’m begging you. Please, stop! My only defense was to go back on the offense. “The Four Remembers? You’re throwing the Four Remembers in my face? You still don’t see it, do you? That’s the problem. I can’t measure up to them. I never have.” My voice caught in my throat. “Now please, please, just leave me alone. I’ll get cleaned up and try to act like a real girl for a few minutes. Maybe even bawl my eyes out for a while. Then I’ll come back and ‘man up.’ We’ll go to Salt Lake and talk to the FBI and save the world and I’ll do whatever else you tell me to do.”

  He came a few steps closer, taking me by the shoulders. I refused to look at him. He put his hand under my chin and lifted my head until our eyes met. “Remember,” he said gravely, “you are free to choose.” I tried to jerk away, but he held my head fast. “Sorry, but that’s life. Can’t you see that the choices you’ve been making these last few hours have already profoundly changed things? You and Cody are free. You’ve got El Cobra knocked on his butt. He’s on the defensive. And you want to quit?” He smiled. “Come on, Danni. Surely you’re not going to leave it to the male side of this equation to fix things, are you?”

  He was so exasperating. How could he make me laugh when I felt so awful and when I was so mad at him? I tried to turn my head away from his penetrating gaze, though I suddenly realized I didn’t really want to turn away. I wanted to step closer to it, be immersed in it, be wrapped safely inside it and be comforted.

  His fingers caressed my cheek for a moment. “And shoot me if you will, but there is one more Remember.”

  My eyes met his. “You say it,” I murmured.

  “No, Danni, you say it.”

  My head came up, my shoulders squared. I looked at Cody, whose eyes were large and filled with worry, then I turned back to Rick. “We are not alone,” I said, my voice clear and firm. And then, filled with wonder, I said it again. “I am not alone.”

  “No,” he whispered. “No, you are not.”

  “And what about Aron Ralston?” Cody said, grinning that crooked grin of his. “What do we learn from him?”

  I laughed again, brushing quickly at my eyes with the back of my hand. “It’s not fair. Both of you ganging up on me like this.” Cody just gave me that quirky look of his, so I said it. “Never give up.”

  He gave a huge sigh, then in a plaintive voice asked, “Okay, now can we get something to eat?”

  I went to him and swept him up in huge hug. “Not until I do something with my hair so I don’t scare the crows away.”

  “Your hair is fine, Danni,” Rick said gallantly.

  I gave him a look of enormous pity. “You need to learn something about the word ‘fine,’ Rick.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Telling a woman that she looks fine, or that everything’s fine, doesn’t cut it. It’s the most meaningless word in the world. Got it?”

  “Got it.” He grinned. “Thank you, Miss McAllister, for that very fine counsel.”

  And just like that, things were right between us again.

  Chapter 34

  I was a bit irritated that both Rick and Cody fell asleep on me. I mean, I was doing between thirty-five and forty on gravel roads. There were stretches of washboard, occasional ruts, and plenty of bumps to keep me awake after only three hours of sleep, but they slept through it all.

  After a quick lunch in our hiding place by the river, we mapped out a route that would take us to Green River without having to be on the main highway except for a mile or two. And it completely bypassed Hanksville. Now we were on the last leg of that journey with only about five or six miles left.

  Of course, with all that time to think, I kept going over and over what had happened that morning. Rick’s anger. My anger. His words. My words. Him saying I was beautiful. Twice! Me wanting him to say it again after I finally brushed my hair out. Him being totally clueless and not even commenting when I returned with it brushed out. But he had given me an approving look, then handed me the keys and asked me if I wanted to drive.

  I sighed, knowing all of this was just my way of avoiding the hard questions. Over lunch, I had agreed to at least talk to the FBI. But I was having second thoughts about it, so I went over Rick’s argument in my mind again.

  Okay, I accepted that the chance that El Cobra had someone working for him in the FBI office in Salt Lake was extremely remote. But my counter to that was, what if the FBI did come in, and then botched it? The FBI were good, but they weren’t flawless. I couldn’t remember any specifics, but I was sure I had read about cases where the FBI had fouled up big-time.

  I glanced at Rick, whose head lolled back and forth, chin on his chest. I didn’t need to wake him up. I was pretty sure what he would say in answer to that: “Of course there’s a chance they might make a mistake, but the chances of us making a mistake are a hundred times greater.” And he was right on that too. I hated that he was so logical.

  Next argument. The resources of the FBI were beyond anything we could muster. And with their huge computer databases, they might already have a line on this guy. Maybe he’d pulled this kind of extortion racket before. Maybe they could track him through their vehicles or something. There was no way to argue this point either. In spite of all my misgivings, I knew Rick and his dad were right. We had to do it.

  So I turned my thoughts to another issue. Where was El Cobra keeping Mom and Dad? If we knew that, we would have a huge leg up on freeing them. I racked my brain, trying to remember exactly what El Cobra had said about where he was going
to hide us until the closing of the sale took place. I came up with two things. He had said it was “not far away from here”—Hanksville—and he had said that we would be comfortable and well cared for while Dad and Grandpère closed the sale. That might have been a lie, but I didn’t think so. So he wasn’t going to throw them into some cellar or underground pit where no one would ever find them in a hundred million years. It sounded more like he was taking them to some kind of house or cabin. But where?

  Moab? Blanding? Price? I shook my head. Somehow, I couldn’t picture him choosing a place in a town. He would want an isolated location, like someone’s mountain cabin. Down here, that narrowed things considerably. We had a lot of desert, but not an abundance of mountains. There were the La Sals, southeast of Moab, the Blue Mountains, west of Monticello, and the Henry Mountains, where we’d been yesterday. All of those mountains were within a hundred and fifty miles of Hanksville.

  Then, like a bell going off, two words popped into my head: fish food. Twice, while he was warning me against going to the police, El Cobra had made reference to fish—feeding my parents to the fishes. It was an odd thing to say when you were in one of the largest deserts in North America.

  Then I jerked up so fast that I twisted the wheel and the truck rocked sharply. Startled, Rick snapped awake, grabbing blindly for the armrest on the door. Behind us, I heard Cody cry out, and a moment later he was looking over the seat.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you two up.”

  Cody rubbed at his eyes, looking out the windshield. “Where are we?”

  I ignored that. “I know where they are, Cody.”

  “Who?”

  “Mom and Dad. Grandpère. Who do you think?”

  “You do?” Cody exclaimed. “Where?”

  “Yeah, where?” Rick echoed.

  “I’m almost positive they’re at Lake Powell. Probably in a houseboat.”

  “How could you know that?” Rick asked.

  I told them what El Cobra had said. “Think about it,” I said. “They could have had a houseboat waiting at Bullfrog Marina, which is only fifty miles away from Hanksville. And Lake Powell has over two thousand miles of shoreline, more than the entire west coast of the United States. There are dozens of narrow side canyons where they could anchor a houseboat and never be disturbed.” I had another thought. “And when they left our house this morning, we heard them turn south on the highway. That doesn’t prove anything, but it is the direction they’d go to get to Lake Powell.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” Rick said, nodding. “But it’s still a huge area to search.”

  “Not as much as all of Southeastern Utah.”

  I could see the respect in his eyes. “Now that’s what I was talking about, Danni. Using that brain of yours.”

  “Go on,” I said, pretending to be demure. “You’re just saying that because it’s true.”

  “I mean it, Danni.”

  “I know you do. If I thought you were blowing smoke to make up for what you said this morning, I would have smacked you a good one by now. So, thank you.”

  I was soaring. I didn’t know how, but I knew I was right about where Mom and Dad were. I wasn’t just sure—I knew it. Suddenly I was eager to talk to the FBI.

  Rick looked around. “How far are we from Green River?”

  “Five, maybe six miles.”

  “Good. We’ll gas up there. And I’d like to find a place to buy some more ammunition for Dad’s rifle.”

  “Agreed.” I hesitated. “Rick?”

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re never going to make it to Salt Lake before the FBI office closes.”

  “I know, but we can call them 24/7. If we tell them this is about a triple kidnaping, they’ll meet with us whenever we get there.”

  “I know, but . . . umm . . . Don’t laugh, okay?”

  “At what?”

  “At me.”

  “Why would I laugh at you?”

  “Because I’d like to wait until tomorrow morning to see the FBI.”

  He turned squarely to face me. “Why, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Remember, you promised not to laugh.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. I saw it in your eyes.”

  “Why would you want to wait? Every moment is critical, it seems to me.”

  “Okay, number one, we’re not going to get to Salt Lake until this evening. The office will be closed.” I held up my hand quickly, cutting him off. “I know that we can call them 24/7, but it won’t be their main guy we talk to. Second—yes, timing is critical, but will a few more hours be that critical? I mean, the whole exchange thing doesn’t take place until next Tuesday—that’s almost a week away. Number three, like you said, they’re going to want to talk to us in person and not just on the telephone.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So look at me. I haven’t had a bath in three days. My hair’s a wreck—fine, but a wreck.” I couldn’t resist that one. “And my clothes smell like the boys’ locker room—”

  “How do you know what the boys’ locker room smells like?” Cody broke in.

  I ignored him. “Finally, and most important, Cody and I have only had three hours of sleep in the last thirty or so hours. I’m surprised my brain is working at all. I think we need to be at our best when we talk to the FBI.”

  I could tell he wasn’t doing cartwheels over my proposal, but he finally bobbed his head. “All right.”

  “Just like that? No fight?”

  “The clothes and the hair are no big deal. I mean, they won’t be to the FBI,” he backpedaled instantly. “But I can see this is important to you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Are you just being nice so I won’t take your head off again?”

  “No, really. I can see some wisdom in what you’re saying. Once you’ve told them your story, they’re going to want to take immediate action, and you need to be sharp for that.”

  “Good. Glad you agree. So, when we get to Salt Lake, we’ll find a motel and get a couple of rooms. That will give your dad a chance to catch up to us too. We’ll make sure the motel has laundry facilities and—”

  “And a swimming pool,” Cody chimed in.

  “And a swimming pool,” Rick agreed.

  “Uh, Rick,” I said, lifting my foot off the gas.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you . . . umm . . . happen to have any money? Or . . . uh . . .

  like a credit card or something?”

  From the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t thought of this either. He extracted his wallet from his pocket and checked. “Six bucks and some change. I don’t own a credit card.”

  “Neither do I. And I don’t have much cash either. My wallet’s in the side pocket. Check it and see.”

  He found it and a moment later pulled out some bills. “Nine dollars and change. That won’t even buy us enough gas to get to Salt Lake.”

  “Or even a park bench to sleep on.” My good mood totally deflated. It said something about how wired we all were that the need for money hadn’t occurred to any of us. Not even Charlie Ramirez, evidently.

  “Your folks’ bank in Green River,” Rick said. “Maybe we could go to the bank and see if they would give you some cash.”

  “They won’t, not without authorization from Mom or Dad.”

  Suddenly, Cody leaned over the seat between us. “What about the money in the pouch?”

  I jerked around. “What money?”

  He pointed. “Right there. In the pouch.”

  I looked down and nearly swerved off the road. I slammed on the brakes and pulled off to one side. Fortunately, we were on a deserted road, and no one was riding my tail. The pouch was on the seat between Rick and me. The flap was unbuttoned and partially open. Peeking out from beneath the fabric was a corner of something green. I snatched up the pouch and reached inside. Slowly I pulled out a rectangular brick of money. My jaw dropped. “Oh! My! Word!”

  I held it out for Rick, my mind
refusing to process what my eyes were seeing. I was pleased to see his mouth drop open too. He took the packet from me, holding it gingerly, as if it were hot or something. He started thumbing through the bills.

  “Is that a hundred-dollar bill?” Cody cried.

  “No,” Rick said in awe. “It’s twenty one-hundred-dollar bills.”

  “Two thousand dollars?” I whispered.

  Still staring at me, he slid the packet back into the pouch. “What do you mean you don’t have any money?” A slow smile stole across his face. “Looks to me like you’re buying, McAllister.”

  Chapter 35

  Green River, Utah, is just off Interstate 70, which is the main east-west arterial link crossing central Utah and heading for Denver. Named for the Green River, which comes out of Wyoming, it is about the only place to stop for gas between Grand Junction, Colorado, and Salina, Utah. That makes it a tiny island of civilization in the vastness of the San Rafael Desert. Emphasis on tiny.

  I thought it unlikely that El Cobra’s men would be watching Green River, but just to be sure, I borrowed Rick’s baseball cap and had Cody lay down in the backseat so as not to be seen. We crossed over the interstate and pulled into the first gas station we saw.

  Taking turns, we used the restroom while Rick filled the truck with gas. We bought three large drinks, a bag of nachos, three sandwiches, and a package of red licorice—the one essential requirement for any McAllister road trip. The clerk, a blonde girl about my age, raised one eyebrow when I held out a hundred-dollar bill. “Nothing smaller than that?”

  “No, sorry.”

  Rick spoke up. “Don’t forget the forty-six bucks worth of gas.” He smiled warmly. Suddenly, I was totally forgotten as the clerk made change.

  “Can you tell me where we can buy some ammunition?” he asked, oozing Latin charm.

  She lit up like she’d just won American Idol. “Sure,” she said, and she proceeded to describe in great detail where the hardware store was, even though it was just a few blocks up Main Street and you would have to have been blind to miss it.