Page 34 of No Safe Place

“You got it, Chief,” the on-duty sergeant said over the radio. “Where do you need me?”

“I’m already set up by the canoe place to the west. You take east on the far side of the bridge and set up back a little in the canyon on the other side of the old package store.”

“Roger that.”

Travers smiled grimly as he shared another look with Garner.

Middle-aged, barrel-chested and short, Chief Garner played like he was a harmless, goofy, small-town dope but he was sharp. Especially when it came to covering his own ass.

“How are we on containing this?” Travers said. “The boss said we need to try to block any calls.”

“I heard. Don’t worry. I got the big bubble box right here on already so there is no cell service in or out from the area now. If they’re still within a three-mile radius, we’re good on that front.”

“So, what now?” Travers said.

“I need pictures of them for my guys,” Garner said.

Travers with his head down at his phone sent the picture of Colleen Doherty he’d already taken from the campus security footage. Or tried to send it. But it didn’t work.

“I can’t send. Turn off the bubble box for a second,” Travers said.

“Oh, right,” Garner said, reaching in and hitting a switch on the electronic box on his seat that was jamming all cell service.

“Okay, good,” Garner said as he re-sent the pics along to his men with his own phone.

Then Garner turned the cell site jammer to the on position again.

“Let me get this straight,” Garner said, peering at Travers now. “You’re telling me Cushing wants us to put his wife, his own wife, in the slammer to wait for that maniac Shaw? Wow.”

“Yeah, that is some pretty coldhearted shit right there. Isn’t it?” Travers said. “I knew the boss didn’t play around, but sheesh.”

“I guess what they say is really true,” Garner said, shaking his head.

“What’s that?” Travers said.

“The rich really aren’t like you and me after all.”

30

“Mike, Jodi. Jodi, Mike,” Colleen said.

Colleen was sitting beside me in my Ford F-150’s passenger seat with her mysterious friend now sitting behind her in the crew cab.

In the rearview I looked at Jodi’s silk clothes, her fancy handbag. There was a well-bred look about her, a Park Avenue elegance and grandeur. She looked like a model in a Nordstrom catalog.

What in the hell was this about? I thought.

I swung a U-turn around on the street in front of The Forge and stopped at the light for Route 4. When I looked to the right about a quarter mile up, I saw there were a bunch of cop cars.

When I turned to Colleen, I noticed that she was looking in that direction as well. None too calmly.

“Where are we going?” I said.

“We need to head left,” Colleen said, turning to me. “Just go left.”

“Left. Got it,” I said.

When the light turned green, I did go left. But instead of getting on the bridge, I suddenly pulled in alongside a boom crane at the worksite that belonged to the construction guys from the bar.

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