Page 59 of Shelter for Sharla

“Good. I’ll let her live at least that long. The clock’s ticking, pig. Get on it.” With that, the phone went dead.

“Carter, don’t do this,” Cruz pleaded. “Please, don’t. Let us?”

“What? Grovel and posture until he kills her? No. This has to happen.” He turned and headed for the cruiser.

“Carter! Wait!” He stopped and turned as Cruz ran up to him. “Would you please do me one favor? Why? Tell me why? Why are you doing this? Just throwing your life away?”

How could he explain? There was only one way he could think of. “All my life, there’ve been things I should’ve done, I could’ve done, and I didn’t. I’ve spent my life saying ‘if only.’ Over and over. ‘If only I’d called him one more time. If only I’d just stayed home with her on ChristmasEve. If only I’d fixed that before she fell. If only, if only’… I can’t do that anymore, Cruz. I can’t face a tomorrow saying to myself, ‘If only I’d done what needed to be done, Sharla would be alive. The kids would be fine. Their lives would be intact.’ This is it, Cruz, where the rubber meets the road. It’s been good knowing you, buddy. Thanks for being here. I’ve gotta go.” Carter ran to the cruiser, then turned back and yelled, “DON’T FOLLOW ME!”

He tore out and headed back to Cadiz. They were waiting for him, and he couldn’t let Sharla down.

* * *

He stoppedat the first drugstore he saw and picked up a bottle of pain reliever capsules plus a roll of clear packing tape, then opened the bottle and peeled away the seal. After tearing off a couple of pieces of tape, he dumped out a few of the capsules, wrapped them in the tape, trimmed it away with his pocket knife, and put them in his pocket. The idea had come to him as he was leaving the college, and he thought it just might work, at least long enough to get her out of there.

The drive to Cadiz from Murray had never seemed long, but at the moment, it seemed to stretch into eternity. What would he find when he got there? He thought about the capsules in his pocket and he knew he’d have to make the announcement early on. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work.

Darkness enveloped the house when he pulled up, and he immediately noticed something strange, and a growl escaped his throat. His truck had been moved. The sons of bitches had stolen his own truck and used it to go to the hospital to grab Sharla. Wonder what she thought when she saw that? He figured she thought he was already dead. That was okay. If she thought he was dead, she’d been compliant, and that was what he needed, for her to behave.

He parked the cruiser but left the keys in the ignition. She’d need a way to get out of there, and that would have to do. Taking off his belt, he placed it on the hood, holster on it and gun still in its leather. Right there in full view, he knelt and removed the little twenty-five millimeter Tanfoglio pistol he kept in an ankle holster. They could see what he was doing, he was sure. He laid it on the hood too, holster and all, and lifted his arms. As soon as he got near the house, he reached in his pocket and pulled out one of the capsules, then placed it in his cheek and prayed the tape held. There was no sound or movement when Carter yelled, “Let her go.”

The front door opened slowly and a face appeared. “We don’t take orders from you, cop. Get your ass up here.” Carter walked slowly toward the house, taking the steps one at a time, but when he reached the porch, he stopped. “Well? You gettin’ in here or not?”

He moved the capsule around until he held it between his teeth. As soon as he knew the man had seen it, he shoved it back into his cheek. “Thought you should see that.”

“What the fuck?”

“Cyanide. You hit me, knock me down, do anything that might cause me to rupture it, and I’m dead. The information dies with me. Understand?”

“We shoot you and it won’t matter.”

“Yeah, but you still won’t have the information.” He could see from the look on the guy’s face that he had the upper hand in that instance.

“We’ll kill her,” the greaseball announced.

“You do and I’ll bite down into it immediately. I don’t want to live without her. So that’s your choice. Choose wisely.”

“You a smart-ass son of a bitch, know that? Hey, bring her out here!” the man called into the house. Carter could hear voices, and one was a woman’s.

“Let me go, you stinky, greasy, jacked-up piece of shit!” it yelled. Yep?that was Sharla. As soon as they shoved her out the door, she screamed, “Carter!” and tried to run toward him, but one of the men held her.

“Hey, babe. I left the keys in the car. Just drive it to the station. Cruz will meet you there. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“But the kids! They have them!”

“No. They don’t. They killed the two officers watching them to lure us to Murray so they could grab you, but Chelsea and Lionel are fine. The FBI has two agents with them right now.”

She turned and glared at the taller man. “You son of a bitch! You told me you had them!” With no hesitation, she spat right in his face and he slapped her?hard.

“Don’t hit her!” Carter screamed.

“Bitch had it coming,” the guy growled as he wiped his face. “You best go get in that car before we change our minds.”

“No! Carter, I’m staying here with you!”

“No. Go, Sharla. Go right now. Please. I beg you. Just go.”

“I can’t. I can’t leave you here with, with, withthem,” she said, her voice full of molten contempt.

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