Part Four
Johnny entered through the kitchen door, letting the door slam behind him. Murdoch turned to him in annoyance and motioned for him to be quiet.
"Police?" Johnny mouthed.
Murdoch nodded. "I'm on hold."
"Well, I'm not waiting. We have horses and vehicles ready to widen the search area."
A car drove up, its engine cut.
Murdoch hung up and walked outside with Johnny. The driver was a slim young woman with blond hair. With her shoulders slumped forward, she looked to be carrying the weight of the world.
"Mr. Lancer? My name is Sarah…just Sarah. Your son Scott and my husband…well, Dan may have done something very wrong."
His stomach lurched and he glanced at Johnny. "Maybe you'd better come in to the house."
~#~#~#~
Murdoch studied Sarah from his desk. The young woman was well-spoken, from back East according to her accent, and she was nervous.
Her eyes remained steady but the hands in her lap were clenched tight. "He's dead, don't you understand that? If you don't find him…"
Murdoch stood to look outside. "You've made that very clear. I want to know why. What's your husband got against him?
"Scott never mentioned the Honduras mission?"
He turned around. "Means nothing to me. But my son—there's a lot of things about him I don't know."
"Well, how much do you have to know to go out there and find him?"
Johnny stepped forward from the fireplace, running his hand down Teresa's sleeve in passing. "We're looking for him. Just tell us why."
"My husband and your son did a stint in Honduras. A humanitarian mission that went wrong. They were captured by arms dealers and Dan was interrogated. Then they took your son. When Scott came back they released the rest of the men, my husband included, into the jungle. But Scott stayed behind."
She shifted in her chair and stared at the tops of her knees. "Dan injured his leg and the infection almost killed him. It wasn't until he was back stateside, that Dan even knew Scott was alive. He saw your son while in the hospital and he warned him then that he'd come after him."
"Why?" Johnny fingers were twitching, a sign Murdoch was beginning to recognize as some emotion, but not sure which one.
"Three other men died during that mission. Two of them were good friends of Dan's."
Murdoch understood. "And he believed Scott sold them out to gain his own freedom."
Teresa sat forward. "Scott would never do that."
"Teresa." Murdoch kept his tone low and gentle, but with enough warning that Teresa backed off.
"He's believed that every minute of his life for the last three years. I think that's the only thing that kept him alive during those first few months, when the doctors said they might have to amputate his leg. He was so sick. And all those months of physical therapy… his leg…he walks with a limp. Dan means it when he says he's going to make Scott pay for those lives."
Johnny moved back behind Teresa's chair and put his elbows on its high back. "He's got help?"
"There's one man I know of, Jed. He was in my husband's company when they were captured. His brother was one of the men who died in the jungle. There may be more. I don't know who Dan spoke to about this."
Sarah got up to pace the room, finally turning towards him, tears threatening. "Don't you see you've got to find him; you've got to find him before they do. Get him out of here, anywhere!"
"Assuming he's all right, where would you suggest I send Scott where your husband won't find him?"
"I don't care what you do with him. I came here for Dan. I didn't come here to save Scott."
Sarah continued, "I don't want to see Dan end up in prison—he wouldn't live through that. Mr. Lancer, my husband was a good man before that mission. He came back changed. But I won't trade his life for anybody's."
She started for the door, then turned back to face him. "Take my advice; you've got money, use it. Use it to send your son away from here, across the world if you have to. Maybe someday Dan will forget."
"Sarah, someday is a long time. Too long. If you want to do something for your husband, tell him to leave Scott—us—alone before it's too late."
She looked at Murdoch for a few long moments, her mouth thinning out to a grim line. "Mr. Lancer, please…don't call the police. Let me try to talk to Dan first. I'm just asking for some time. Her eyes filled again, and she fought back the tears.
Johnny opened the door and she slipped out.
Murdoch swung behind his desk, slapping his palm flat against the top. He met Johnny's eyes. "Did you know about this?"
Johnny looked down then shook his head. "No. And I'm guessing you didn't either."
"I knew about his service time, but nothing specific."
Johnny came to stand by Teresa. "You believe her and what she's hinting at?"
He wanted to laugh and accuse the woman of making it all up. But his son was still missing. "I don't know what to believe."
"All we have is her word against Scott's, right?" Teresa asked.
Murdoch and Johnny shared a look. He stood and gathered up the maps.
"What about the police?" Johnny picked up his jacket from the back of the chair and slipped it on.
"You take a couple of vehicles and canvass the back roads. I'll gather the men and lead them on horse-back cross country as far as the river. In the meantime, I'll notify the police. No one tells me what to do as far as my son is concerned."
~#~#~#~
Jack or Ramirez?
No, that wasn't right, was it?
Past, present, it all blended together in a chaotic jumble. He could all but smell the jungle, the cooking, but it faded as his eyes opened to an unfamiliar room. One lamp lit the area, throwing it into soft shadows. A glance out the window revealed a low lying sun.
"What…?" Scott had to swallow to force the remaining words out. "What time is it?"
"It's mid-morning." The voice was deep, a smooth rumble of sound and as unfamiliar as his surroundings. "You didn't answer my question. Jack or Ramirez?"
The owner of the voice came into view. Longish hair held back into a ponytail, a face of all hard angles, with deep crows feet radiating out from the eyes.
Scott's body felt heavy, but his mind was settling on the here and now. "Either Lewis or Ric. Probably Lewis."
His benefactor's eyebrows rose a little, but that was the only visible reaction. "Do you have many people who want to shoot you, Mr. Lancer?" A hand came up. "And before you waste energy asking, it's big news on the gossip grapevine of Murdoch Lancer's returning sons. I've seen you both in town."
Suppose it was at that.
"I'm Joseph Bell. I live about ten miles as the crow flies from your place. I found you about two miles from here after I became aware of a racket in my woods. Didn't like your odds, so I brought you here where I patched up your shoulder, but I suggest we get you to a hospital soon as my medical skills are rusty. Wouldn't hurt to mention it to the police that there are two men who stumbled around in the dark most of the night."
"Surprised you haven't called them by now." Scott nodded as Bell held up a glass of water, and he took it with a shaky hand.
"I don't have a phone." Bell slid an arm behind his back and lifted Scott enough so he could drink then eased him down once he was finished. Setting the glass aside he pulled up a canvas chair, those used for the outdoors, by Scott's bed.
"You can go without a telephone?" Scott sunk into the pillow and thought of his BlackBerry, missing it like he missed caffeine. Bell leaned back in the chair folding his hands over this stomach.
"Quite well, although it is inconvenient at times. This being one of those times."
"I should leave."
"And you will once I get the truck and deliver you to the hospital's capable hands." Bell jutted out his chin. "But first I need those meds to wear off so you can walk."
Considering the heaviness of his limbs that was a wise course, but Scott didn't like the idea of staying in one place too long. Not when this stranger had taken him in without knowing the risks.
"Lancer." Bell's voice cut through the dizzying swirl of his thoughts. "Those men—how well are they armed?"
And then, maybe not so unaware.
"Lewis had a nine-millimeter. The man named Ric had a piece, not sure what caliber." Scott felt the weariness creeping up on him, dragging him down. The whooshing sound in his head was becoming louder.
"Get some sleep, Lancer. We'll move out in an hour or so." That sounded like an order and if the tone seemed familiar he fell asleep before he could wonder why.
~#~#~#~
Johnny watched as Murdoch did his best to reassure Teresa. Murdoch Lancer did have that bigness about him that had nothing to do with his size. He oozed confidence and once a decision was reached, it was carried out. No second guessing. Johnny could see that Teresa wanted to believe everything would be all right this time. But even as she gave Murdoch a slight smile, Johnny could see she didn't and he couldn't blame her.
He wasn't so sure he believed it himself, but they had just started this family thing and he was loath to lose a part of it now. So when Teresa looked his way, he shoved his doubts aside and pulled out his very rusty faith that situations can improve. He wouldn't have placed a bet on making his making it out of Mexico alive just a short time ago. Good things do happen and when he grinned at Teresa, she looked like she believed it, too.
TBC