Chapter 6
Gasp...catch...wheeze. Gasp...catch...wheeze. Gasp...catch...wheeze.
Chris shut his eyes, absorbing the rhythm of Vin's battle for air. The sounds were both gut-wrenching and reassuring. It hurt to hear his friend struggle so hard for each breath. On the other hand, every gasp, every wheeze, meant Vin was still breathing. And for that small favor Chris was desperately grateful.
I know I said I was finished with you, God. But I'll give you one more chance. Don't do this to me, to him. The way I see it, I've given up more than any ten men. Go collect your damn blood sacrifice somewhere else.
Chris twisted his lips into a sardonic smile. How long had it been since he first turned his back on God, declaring he had no use for him? Nothing, not even Josiah's Bible quotes, had been able to change his mind. Funny how a bullet in Vin's chest suddenly put Chris on speaking terms with the Almighty.
Or not so funny.
He could feel the familiar rage bubbling up inside. When would he learn? Once the paralyzing agony of losing Sarah and Adam had given way to a constant dull ache, he'd promised himself that he'd never endure another such loss. Walls firmly in place, he moved through each day in a protective cocoon. He had the job and he had the boys, and he made damn sure neither one penetrated the comfortable numbness surrounding his heart.
And then along came Vin Tanner. Aloof. Soft spoken. Fiercely independent. A tough, confident exterior hiding so much vulnerability beneath.
It was like looking in a mirror.
Chris had never had a friend like Vin. He loved Buck like a brother, but dear God, the man was work. Plowing through life, a whirlwind, sucking you into his boisterous, joyous existence. Buck burned bright, and that light had saved Chris during the dark days after Sarah and Adam's deaths. But that fire could be both exhilarating and exhausting.
If Buck was a whirlwind, then Vin was the eye of the storm. From the first, their connection had been instant, effortless. It didn't require words or gestures--in fact, was best felt in shared glances and companionable silences. Vin wasn't put off or intimidated by Chris's dark side; after all, he had his own demons to battle. Buck could bring Chris joy, but Vin...Vin brought him peace.
Gasp...catch...wheeze...gasp...catch...wheeze...gasp...
A moment passed before Chris's sluggish brain registered the deafening silence. He snapped open his eyes and looked down at his friend. Skin ashen, Vin lay utterly still.
"Vin!" Gripping his friend by the shoulders, Chris shook him, hard. "Don't you give up on me. You breathe, damn it! Breathe!" He punctuated the command with a sharp slap to Vin's pale cheek.
Vin's eyes flew open and he lunged upright. He pulled in a deep gulp of air and then coughed weakly. For long moments he choked and gasped, tears trickling down his face. Chris supported him as best he could, his own heart pounding wildly.
"The hell ya...do that for?" Vin sagged against him, shoving aside Chris's hand when he tried to wipe his face.
"Just thought it best you keep breathing. It'd be an awful nuisance to train a new sharpshooter."
"Got a helluva...bedside manner."
"Yeah, well, I already told you I'm no Nathan." Chris brought the towel back to Vin's face and this time Vin submitted.
"Time 'sit?"
"Nearly four. Should be light soon." Chris frowned at the bluish tint to Vin's lips. A surreptitious peek at his nails revealed more of the same. Cyanosis. Vin was slowly suffocating.
"Wish I...see the sunrise. Bet 's...real pretty here." The words were slow and slurred. Vin's eyelids drifted to half-mast.
"We'll catch the next one." Chris worked hard to keep his voice steady. "We can ride up to that spot on the ridge--the one where you can see for miles? We'll bring a thermos of coffee and some of those sugar-laden doughnuts you're so fond of, and catch the show."
"Sounds like a plan." Vin's lips curved and his eyes slipped shut. "Just hate bein'...locked in. 'S the only thing he did...could make me cry." He grew heavier in Chris's arms. Only the shallow flutter under his hands reassured Chris that his friend still breathed.
He gritted his teeth and stared up at the ceiling. So Vin's fear of closed in spaces had darker roots. Looking back, he guessed he shouldn't be surprised. He thought about Vin's penchant for taking the stairs instead of the elevator. The way he got jittery whenever forced to attend a meeting in the small conference room without windows. And how he'd eventually convinced Vin that taking a Valium before he got on a plane wasn't a sign of weakness.
What had always troubled Chris wasn't Vin's claustrophobia itself, but the shamed, self-deprecating little smile he'd give whoever witnessed it. Amazing how since meeting Jonah so many things were becoming clear.
As if summoned, the trapdoor opened and Jonah slipped down the stairs, silent as a wraith. When several minutes passed and he showed no sign of speaking, Chris sighed.
"What do you want, son?"
Jonah shrugged, his gaze fixed on Vin. "Been thinking," he said. "Was wondering how he's doing."
Chris found he could no longer muster the energy to be angry. "He's dying, Jonah. There's not much else to say."
Jonah's lip quivered and his eyes filled with tears. "Been thinking... The p-police...w-what if they shot my d-dad?"
Chris's heart lurched but he kept a poker face. "The police will do everything they can to make sure no one gets hurt. It's their job."
"But people d-do get hurt! They get hurt all the t-time! Get killed, even." He tore his gaze from Vin and looked pleadingly at Chris. "He's all I've got."
Remaining calm took every shred of self-control Chris had left. Jonah was poised on the knife's edge. One wrong word, one hint of the Larabee temper, and Vin could lose what might be his only chance for survival.
"Jonah, do you know where your dad put my cell phone?"
Jonah went very still, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe."
How many times had he seen that same wary expression when something knocked Vin off balance? "Do you think you could get hold of it?"
"Maybe...yeah, probably, but I d-don't... He'll be getting up soon. I c-can't risk coming b-back here."
"You don't have to. Listen to me, Jonah. You take that phone somewhere you won't be overheard. Hit speed dial three and ask for Buck Wilmington. Tell him everything."
The little line between Jonah's eyes deepened. "Is he another agent?"
"Yeah, he is. But more important, he's a friend. He'll do the right thing, I promise." When Jonah still looked unconvinced, he added, "Please. Trust me."
Vin moved restlessly, mumbling gibberish. Chris rubbed a hand up and down one limp arm. "Shhh, easy, Cowboy. I'm right here."
When he looked up, the indecision had vanished from Jonah's face. He squared his shoulders and tipped up his chin. "I'll try."
He was halfway up the stairs before Chris found his tongue. "Jonah?"
The boy paused and peered down at him. "Yeah?"
"Watch your back, pard."
Jonah widened his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning up. "I will."
Chris leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping it wouldn't be too little, too late.
Gasp...catch...wheeze...gasp...catch...wheeze...
Last chance, God. Make it count.
Who the hell was calling at 4:30 in the morning? On a Saturday? Buck yanked the receiver to his ear while still trying to pry open his eyes. "This better be a matter of life and death unless you're a damn sight prettier than I am."
Dead silence.
"Well? Cat got your tongue?"
Dial tone.
Cursing under his breath, Buck tossed aside the phone and plumped his pillow. He'd barely closed his eyes when the piercing trill jerked him back from the cusp of sleep. Rolling over with a groan, he grabbed the phone off the floor.
"What!"
Silence again, broken only by someone breathing. Finally a soft voice stuttered, "Is this B-buck W-wilmington?"
Shoot, it sounded like a kid, and a scared one to boot. Buck reined in his temper. "Last time I checked. Who's this?"
"Jonah."
Was that supposed to mean something? "Well now, I don't exactly recollect knowing a Jonah. Mind refreshing my memory?"
"You d-don't know me. Agent Larabee said I c-could trust you."
Buck sat up straight, all his alarm bells ringing. "Chris Larabee? He told you to call me?"
"He said I could trust you," Jonah repeated.
Buck scrubbed a hand through his hair. Talking to this kid was like wading through molasses. "Is Chris there with you?"
"N-not exactly."
"Not exactly? What the hell does that mean?"
"Don't yell at me! I'm t-trying to tell you."
This was why he didn't have kids. Though come to think of it, sometimes J.D. was a darn close substitution. Buck sucked in a deep breath and blew it out.
"Okay, okay. Take it easy. I just get a little riled when I'm worried about my friends. How about you tell me how you know Chris?"
"He and Agent Tanner c-came by my house t-to ask my dad some questions."
Buck frowned. "Wait a minute. Is your daddy Raymond Sinclair?"
"Yeah. They left, b-b-but then Agent Tanner c-c-came back and-and...something bad happened." Jonah's voice grew higher as he began speaking faster. "He sh-shouldn't have come in the b-barn. He saw the g-guns and...and my dad g-got angry, and wh-when he g-gets angry, he loses his t-temper. They started fighting and D-dad just... He... P-p-promise me you w-won't let anyone h-hurt my dad!"
Damn. This sounded bad.
"Jonah. Jonah!" Buck cut through the boy's panicked rambling. "Son, you've gotta calm down. I want you to tell me exactly what happened to Agent Larabee and Agent Tanner. Are they all right?" But he already knew the answer. If they were, Chris would be the one on the phone.
"Buck?" J.D. leaned in the bedroom doorway, rubbing his eyes. "What's going on?"
He waved him to silence. "Jonah?"
"M-my dad... He shot Agent Tanner." Jonah's voice cracked. "He...he's bleeding real bad."
Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. "Does your dad have 'em locked up somewhere?"
"The cellar under the b-barn. You gotta c-come quick or Agent Tanner might... I...I gotta go. Dad will get real m-mad if he finds out I c-called you."
"Jonah, wait!"
Buck thought he'd lost the kid until he heard a shaky reply.
"Yeah?"
"You done a real brave thing calling me. Now I want you to promise me something."
"What?" Suspicion dripped from the word.
"I'm gonna be coming out there, and I'm gonna bring help. Now I'll do everything I can to see no one gets hurt. But I want you to find a place to hole up and don't come out until you hear me calling for you. Got it?"
Silence. "Agent Larabee said you'd d-do the right thing."
Buck swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll try."
He stared at the phone for long minutes after Jonah disconnected, still hearing that wary, hopeful voice.
J.D. cleared his throat. "Ah...Buck? Just what in the heck is going on? Are Chris and Vin in trouble?"
He shook himself out of his daze. "I'll explain as soon as we round up the others. Get dressed and let's ride."
Continued in Chapter 7