Page 34 of Heart and Soul
Hillerman’s drowsiness flees in an instant. She stands to meet my gaze with a kind of impressed twinkle in her eye. “What about him?”
“Still alive, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“And you know where he is?”
She raises one cocky brow. “I put him there myself.”
I square my shoulders to match her attitude. “Good, then you can take us there.”
Without batting an eye, she fires back, “You bet your ass I can. Just as soon as you change out of your blanket.”
I look down at the bed comforter draped over me like a robe. From beneath it, my fuzzy pink slippers poke out. Hillerman is wearing ripped jeans, a tight tank top, and a shoulder holster.
With a sigh, I trudge toward the stairs, and just so she knows who’s the boss in this partnership, I mutter, “It’s not a blanket. It’s a comforter.”
Forty minutes later, I’mwhite-knuckling my seat belt in the cabin of an FBI helicopter as it banks into a steep dive. My heart races up into my throat, blocking the scream that wants to come out. Icy wind screams through the cabin, whipping my hair. I have to press my feet together to keep my shoes from getting sucked out the open side door.
“You really don’t have to show off on my account!” I shout over the noise.
Hillerman, sitting calmly with one leg crossed over the other, taps her headset.
Mine has fallen down around my neck. I clap it into place over my ears and move the microphone down to my mouth. “I said, ‘Are we there yet?’”
Hillerman’s voice crackles through my headphones. “Ten seconds.”
“A forty-minute flight south, southeast. I’m guessing Cleveland?”
She points out the door, where I can now see the city lights of Cleveland far off on the horizon. “But that’s the shore way over there! Which means we’re still over…” I lean to look out the open doors, and I see nothing but moonlit water racing up at us. “Are you crazy?!”
The chopper plunges toward Lake Erie at rollercoaster speed. I shut my eyes and brace for impact, but at the last second, we pull up and touch down gently on solid ground. I first open one eye, then the other. We’re still alive, and my shoes are still on my feet, but I can feel that my hair has become a windswept lion’s mane.
Hillerman leaps out of the cabin. I don’t trust my shaking knees, so I sit down first, then slide over the lip and drop to the ground. The second I’m out, the chopper lifts off again, disappearing into the black night.
“I thought you go fast,” Hillerman says. “You race cars.”
“On theground,” I clarify. “Flying is not really my thing.”
“How about boats?”
“Hell no. Boats are even worse than…” My voice trails off as I look around.
We’re now standing on the deck of a massive cargo ship. It’s got to be as long as several city blocks and as wide as a freeway. I’ve seen plenty of these monsters trudging down the Detroit River, but I’ve never been close enough to see how big they really are. At one end of the ship is a five-story tower with lots of windows. The rest of the deck is covered with giant, flat domes, like airplane hangars.
I follow Hillerman toward the building. “Are you telling me the supersecret underworld prison I’ve been hearing about is somewhere on this boat?”
“The prison is notonthe boat. Itisthe boat. Seawaymax bulk carrier. We can take this sucker anywhere in the world.” She points at the flat domes. “Those are retractable roofs. Under each one is a cargo hold the size of a three-story house. Perfect for cell blocks.”
“So this is why you’ve been stationed in Cleveland?”
“During shipping season, we keep to Lake Erie. But she’ll be completely frozen over four weeks from now. We’re on the move north to Lake Huron. Why do you hate water?”
“Besides it being cold and wet and not solid ground?”
“Is there anything besides that?”
“Nope.”
