Fire and Ice: A Thriller (A Hawk Tate Novel Book 3) Read online

  Halfway down the room, emergency department nurse Meredith Shek already had the supplies from the short procedure bagged up. She held them in one hand as she steered the table back into position with the other, her movements methodical, underscoring the some boredom that Yvonne felt.

  Standing right at 6’ tall, the overhead lights made her skin appear even more pale than usual, her straw-blonde hair hanging lank behind her head.

  “How long you been on now?” Shek asked.

  “Since 6:00,” Yvonne said, using the front pockets to pull her lab coat across her body, the soles of her running shoes squeaking slightly as she trudged over the tile floor.

  “Five hours is all?” Shek asked. “How bad were the roads getting in here?”

  “No,” Yvonne said, shaking her head slightly, “6:00 this morning. And it was fine then. Heck, I walked here.”

  “Eesh,” Shek said, drawing the word out as she turned to look at Yvonne.

  “Yeah,” Yvonne said, following Shek as she walked to the opposite end of the room and deposited the bag into a waste receptacle. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Ha,” Shek said, the top of her head rolling back just slightly with the effort. “Lot of things seem like a good idea at the time here in Montana. It’s the sudden changes you have to be prepared for.”

  Turning back to the room, Yvonne looked over the row of empty beds. “Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.”

  Chapter Three

  The large Cummins diesel engine spat out a plume of black smoke as it finally turned over, the result of more than five minutes of cranking on the ignition. Hunched low behind the steering wheel, Cuddyer could see it in the side view mirror as it rose from the tailpipe, completely engulfing Jasper as he circled around the back, a snow scraper in hand.

  Under different circumstances the image might have been amusing, maybe even enough to cause a laugh. As things stood, the only emotion Cuddyer felt was relief, the engine finally churning to life alleviating one concern, bringing with it a host of others.

  “You alright, Elias?” Cuddyer asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the engine. He turned to glance over his shoulder into the rear bench seat of the cab, the body of his partner stretched from one side of the truck to the other.

  Cocooned under a mountain of pillows and blankets, the only thing that was visible was his face. Even in the dim interior of the truck it was obvious how pale he was, the effect even more pronounced against his dark beard.

  Cuddyer hadn’t expected an answer to his question, was not surprised when none came his way. Instead, he sat and watched as Elias pulled in short gasps of breath, stale air that was just beginning to warm blowing in around them.

  What had transpired in the previous hour was nothing short of Hell itself, the kind of thing he and Elias and Jasper often joked about. Idiot yokels who didn’t know what they were doing, blowing themselves up, sending their profits and their empire sky high, nothing left behind but a vapor trail.

  How this had happened Cuddyer had no clue, and at the moment didn’t much care. All that mattered was their operation was obliterated, and the best cook in the state was lying behind him, fighting for every breath.

  Less than 50 miles away was a veritable army demanding that business continue, giving them only an extra 48 hours to ensure that happened.

  Cuddyer’s left leg bobbed beneath the steering wheel as he jammed a thumb into his mouth, the tastes of grease and wood smoke crossing his tongue. Ignoring them both he went to work on the nail, gnawing at it until the salty metallic flavor of blood found his taste buds.

  Things were moving too fast. He had to slow down, to figure out his next move, but right now he just didn’t have the time for that.

  Beside him the passenger door wrenched open, a puff of arctic air filling the cab, a swirl of ice crystals arriving with it. Just as fast, Jasper swung himself up into the seat and closed the door, brushing clumps of snow from the arms of his canvas coat and the front of his jeans.

  “You get everything?” Cuddyer asked, staring straight ahead.

  “Just like you said,” Jasper replied. “It’s all loaded in the back.”

  A grunt was Cuddyer’s only reply as he continued to work on the thumbnail in his mouth.

  They couldn’t stay at the house, at least not at the moment. Right now they had a head start because of the weather, but it was only a matter of time before somebody saw, or smelled, what had happened. Once they did, they would report it, bringing out the police and God knew who else.

  First thing in the morning Cuddyer would call again to let them know they had relocated, that nobody was making a run for it, but for the time being he was content to let it ride. He had already made one unwanted phone call that evening, better to let things simmer down before doing it a second time.

  Besides, at the moment, they had more pressing matters to tend to.

  “We going to the barn?” Jasper asked, lowering his voice in an attempt to match the demeanor inside the truck.

  Cuddyer made no effort to hide his disdain as he stared straight ahead, letting the defroster clear away the thin layer of ice that had formed beneath the heavy snowfall, before pulling his hand from his mouth and dropping the gearshift into drive. Outside, snow continued to fall in thick, heavy flakes, the total accumulation now more than a foot, white the only color visible beneath the glare of the headlights.

  Even with chains on the tires, the next couple of hours would be treacherous, the only benefit of the storm being that it would wipe away any sign of them within minutes of their passing.

  Given where their first stop was going to be, it was a benefit Cuddyer intended to take full advantage of.

  Chapter Four

  This was not how things were supposed to have played out. Six months ago Yvonne was a rising star in the Atlanta medical scene. She was young for sure, too green to be considered a threat to the established players, but she had been earmarked by all the right people as an up-and-comer to watch. Taken as a whole, their blessing had been nothing short of gospel, the kind of thing nobody else in town would dare oppose.

  The reasons for her assent were numerous, the most obvious on display each time Yvonne looked into the mirror. At 5’10”, she was taller than most of the people she worked with, certainly more so than just about every female besides Meredith. The stature provided her with a presence that couldn’t quite be described as towering, or even imposing, but it was difficult to miss her.

  The effect was accentuated by the mop of hair that extended from her head in a lazy halo, the black curls a direct inheritance from her mother. Long ago she had stopped trying to tame the mess, allowing them to go where they may, content to let them bounce of their own free will.

  In the rare instances she wasn’t wearing scrubs and her white coat, the figure of a track star just a decade removed could be seen. A minimum three times a week since graduating from Georgia, she had made it a point to put in at least five miles, the exertion doing far more to rejuvenate her than any amount of sleep ever could.

  Everything, though, from the rising star status to the steady running, had ended abruptly with a phone call three months prior. Her father, a man she knew only through stories her mother told her for the first part of her life, had taken sick.

  Had the call come 15 years before, Yvonne would not have thought twice. She would have expressed condolences, hung up the phone, and not thought about the matter again.

  Those days were gone though. Beginning with the passing of her mother, he had made a concerted effort to be an active part of her life, even moving to Atlanta for the last two years of high school so she could finish without having to transfer. Not until she was safely away at college, no longer in need of a full-time parent, did he retreat back to Montana.

  If her doing the same now, allowing him to spend whatever time he had left in comfort, could somehow square the enormous debt she felt toward him, it was something she was glad to do.

>   It just didn’t change the fact that some days were better than others.

  “Just got a call from Baxter,” Shek said, entering the break room just far enough to rest a shoulder against the open door frame. “Completely snowed in.”

  From her spot on the end of the single couch in the room, Yvonne turned her head to the sound of Shek’s voice, the words only confirming what she had long since resigned herself to.

  “I’m sorry,” Shek said. “I know this is turning into one heck of a marathon session for you.”

  Yvonne blinked away the fuzz of her previous thoughts, pulling herself into the room to engage in the conversation. “It’s okay, I just wish there was more to do.”

  “Late night TV not getting it done for you?” Shek asked, gesturing with her chin toward the box television sitting silent on a folding table along the far wall.

  “Not much of a watcher,” Yvonne said, forcing a thin smile, the best she could manage.

  Despite Shek’s referring to the long day as a marathon, it was only that insofar as the suffocating boredom that pressed in on Yvonne. Working in County General on the west side of Atlanta, her usual shift was 20 hours, her call time more than twice that.

  Twenty-five hour stints were not uncommon, 30 popping up with surprising regularity. Getting around the newly imposed shift limitations was never a big issue, appeased by punching out and returning, a combination of the hospital needing her on-site and her not wanting to go home.

  To look at a clock, or a timesheet, the work would appear hellish, but in truth Yvonne had found it surprisingly palatable. There was always something to do, some new patient to meet, a sea of people passing through, keeping things light and interesting. The hours sped by, so much so that she had to download an app to her phone just to remind her to take time to eat and hydrate.

  Finding the job here at Valley County had been a stroke of luck, something that went from idea to plan to execution in less than two weeks. It was an opportunity that Yvonne was thankful for, the chance to pay back an old favor, but there wasn’t a day that passed that she didn’t wish for something a little more invigorating to pass through the front doors.

  “You should sleep,” Shek offered. “The call room is empty, I’ll come get you if anything comes in.”

  Yvonne paused a moment, even tilting her head to the side a couple of inches as if considering the idea, before pressing her palms into the seat cushions on either side of her and rising to full height.

  “Actually, I think I might step outside for a few minutes. We don’t get much snow in Georgia. I’m new enough here to still find it pretty.”

  Chapter Five

  The noisy engine strained to push the elevated chassis of the truck through the thick snowpack, the tire chains biting into the wet mess, inching them forward no more than 10 miles an hour. Mounds lining the side of the road indicated that at one point plows had been through before giving up, fresh snowfall covering everything again.

  Giving up any attempt at deciphering the lanes on the road, Cuddyer aimed the nose of the truck down what he guessed to be the center line, using the previous efforts of the plows to guide him. The whole time he sat leaning forward behind the wheel, gripping it tight in both hands.

  There was no radio inside the cab of the truck, no sound except that of the tires chewing snow, the chains rattling as they rotated, and the 460 cubic inches of the diesel engine wailing angrily.

  Cuddyer left the heat on high, the temperature inside the truck rising steadily. He could feel sweat beginning to form beneath his beard, could sense the trickles that were starting on his scalp and threatening to streak down his forehead.

  “Cuddy?” Jasper asked, his voice still low, his fear obvious. He placed the question out there gently, as if asking permission to do so, and when no response came, he pressed onward. “Where are we headed?”

  Another grunt was Cuddyer’s only response, a short twist of the head driving home the point. Instead, he kept his full attention on the road, watching as the heavy flakes continued to drift down, the headlights catching them as they passed by.

  “How’s Elias?”

  In his periphery he could see Jasper’s jaw drop open as he stared motionless beside him.

  “Jasper. Elias. Check him,” Cuddyer snapped, pushing each phrase out quickly, his voice little more than a grumble.

  Jasper brought his knees up onto the seat, flinging drops of melted snow across the dash as he went. Leaning over the seat, he extended a hand a few inches from Elias’s mouth before retreating back into his original position.

  “He’s breathing,” Jasper said. “Seems to still be sleeping.”

  “Hmm,” Cuddyer grunted in response, the statement confirming what he already suspected.

  It was not the first time he had seen such an explosion, though it had been a long time since his original trip down this path.

  His only hope was that this one ended better than the last.

  “Cuddy?” Jasper ventured again.

  Cuddyer let out a loud breath, the intention to let it be known he wasn’t much up for talking at the moment, though he knew Jasper well enough to know that no amount of subtle cues would ever be picked up.

  Much like going through Hell, the best approach was to push through as fast as he could and hope to reach the other side unscathed.

  “They said we have two days to get them their product,” Cuddyer said, glancing over to Jasper before turning back to the road ahead. Not a single tire tread marred the snow, the truck settling into an even gait.

  Most of the time, their living outside of town was a good idea, the extra distance helping to avoid suspicion of them or their enterprise.

  Tonight was not such a time.

  “Two days?” Jasper asked, a small sputter in his voice as he computed what he’d been told. “But that...”

  “I know.”

  “And all our equipment,” Jasper continued, going through everything Cuddyer had thought upon hanging up the phone.

  “Yup.”

  “And, we can’t do anything without Elias,” Jasper finished, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point at their comrade in the back seat.

  This time Cuddyer didn’t bother to reply. He nodded once in agreement, the conversation over. Staring straight ahead, his eyes narrowed as he focused on a small glow on the horizon, the light just barely visible over the white sheen of the snow enveloping the world.

  They would have one shot at this, and one only. Without thinking about it he lowered his left hand from the steering wheel and tapped at the pocket of his jacket, feeling the hard bulge of the .38 Magnum, before again gripping the wheel with both hands.

  The plan was thin, at best. It would involve surprise and no small amount of dumb luck, with the hope that the perverse nature of it would be enough for them to arrive and depart before anybody put up too much of a struggle.

  After that, it would be the job of the storm to erase their tracks, hiding them until the time was right to emerge.

  Chapter Six

  Yvonne felt the wind push through her hair twice in a span of less than 10 seconds, one each on opposite ends of the temperature spectrum. The first was courtesy of the overhead heaters blowing straight down in the Arctic zone between reception and the outer doors, the space designed to provide a protective barrier from the frigid climate for those inside. It pushed straight down, beginning the moment she passed through the inner door, designed to kick on whenever one side or the other opened.

  The second blast of air was courtesy of the Montana elements, bringing with it a swirl of ice crystals and the faint scent of pine. It swept in the length of Yvonne’s body, pushing up beneath the bottom hems of her scrubs and gripping her face in an icy clamp.

  It had the intended effect.

  Whatever grogginess Yvonne had felt evaporated as she took two steps out the door, hearing it slide closed with great effort along the frozen tracts. As the two sides pushed together, the sound of the heater kicked off
as well, the world falling silent as Yvonne took one last step forward, rock salt crunching beneath her feet, her toes just inches away from snow piled more than three feet high on the edge of the parking lot.

  Drifts gave the impression that at some point during the day, hospital maintenance workers had attempted to keep the front walk clear. It appeared that such an effort had long since fallen by the wayside, though, as the snow persisted, the battle having been given over to the rock salt on the ground to keep things clear.

  Besides, it wasn’t as if there was a great deal of foot traffic, Mrs. Everson having been the last patient Yvonne seen more than two hours before.

  Letting her eyes slide shut, Yvonne raised her face to the sky, feeling the cold air on her skin. She took in a deep breath, letting it lift her chest toward the heavens, cooling her from within.

  Right now in Atlanta the daytime highs were already reaching 80 degrees, accompanied by the omnipresent humidity that seemed to smother the southeast for most of the year. Just thinking about it Yvonne could almost feel the sweat on her skin, could sense her hair curling tighter into a frizzled mess that no amount of mousse could ever hope to control.

  The mere idea of it brought a smile to her face, her body rising a few inches into a full stretch.

  She had signed up for this, she just had to keep reminding herself. She knew when she pulled the trigger on making a move that Glasgow was small, that it was cold, that the hospital barely saw in a year what her previous employer saw in a week.

  The only thing she hadn’t been prepared for, though, was the silence. She never would have thought it would get to her the way it had, finding herself almost longing for the sounds of traffic, the background din of voices, the familiar noises that let her know humanity was nearby.

  Dropping herself flat to her feet, Yvonne released the breath she was holding and opened her eyes. The first few moments of invigoration had already passed, moving quickly into a bone-numbing chill, threatening to pull the feeling from her fingers at any moment.