THE COTTAGE
Chapter 15
Damn!” Ned slammed the lid of his satellite computer.
“No luck tracing the car?” Tim asked solemnly.
Ned sat frustrated. As a trained investigator, he was accustomed to getting answers, and fast.
“Well, let’s put it this way … nada! The car isn’t a rental. There are too many dark Toyota Avalon Limiteds still on the road in the States to track one down. And you hardly ever find them on Nova Scotia rental lots. Toyotas, yes, but not older ones. My guess? It came from the States with a phony Canadian plate and registration.”
Ned shook his head. “These guys know what they’re doing, Tim. Professionals, just as we suspected. But who hired them?”
He paused, looking at Tim. “I promised to keep you safe, and I failed. Now I’ve dragged my own daughter into the line of fire.”
He hung his head. He wasn't accustomed to failure.
Tim closed the lid to his computer, too. “Well, if it's any consolation, I've come up with zilch as well. He reached out to comfort Ned, but Ned turned away, too wounded to accept a friendly gesture.
Silence stretched into minutes. Tim waited.
Ned turned back. “Sorry, son, self-pity isn't appropriate attire for an investigator.”
“You’re a dad, Ned. It’s okay.”
Ned looked up. “What didn't you learn?”
“Whatever is in that vial isn't a marketed, sanctioned drug. It s hand-made.”
He paused briefly. “Do you feel well enough for a road trip? I learned that there’s a fine pharmacist with a small lab, and he’s nearby in Sheet Harbour.”
Ned perked up. Something to go on … hope. . “But, wait! You found a pharmacist with his own lab in Sheet Harbour?” Ned frowned. “And Ramon just happened to find the only lab for miles around, too?”
“That doesn’t make the pharmacist a part of this.”
“Doesn’t make him innocent, either.”
Tim picked up the vial with its sickening remains. “Maybe not. But if his lab has the right equipment, I just might be able to figure out what this drug residue is. And how harmful as well.”
Two men with two differing opinions. In either case, the answer would bring about a revelation that could save Caroline’s life. The drug might require an antidote, and Tim's knowledge was crucial. Time was of the essence.
The men checked their pistols. Tim loaded a backpack and redressed Ned’s shoulder. Ned added the ibuprofen to the bag and popped two, just in case. He knew the trunk road to Sheet Harbour well, and it was bumpy.
They drove in silence for ten minutes before Ned spoke up.
“Can you go any faster? At 35 mph, we won't get there ‘til tomorrow, Tim.” Ned was itching to get there yesterday. His daughter’s life was at stake.
“Whoa there, Ned. I don't want your wound to open again.” He forced a smile. “You're no help to me or to Caroline if you bleed to death, old man.” He paused. “Besides, I don't know the speed limit.”
“Don't you ‘old man’ me, young whippersnapper! And for your information, the speed limit is 50 mph if you want to drive into a ditch.”
They both chuckled as their confidence in one another was renewed.
Every sharp curve and every bump in the road caused intense pain, but Ned tried not to let Tim know. He didn't want him to slow down. Every second saved increased Caroline’s chances of survival.
About a mile from Sherbrooke, Ned sat up, straight as an arrow. He pointed at the road.
“Stop the car, Tim, stop it now!”
It was a command, and Tim heard it, loud and clear. He slammed on the brakes and came to a dead halt. Both men were thrust toward the dashboard, but stopped by their seatbelts.
Ned screamed out in pain.
“Ned, I'm so sorry.” He looked at Ned. A bright red spot was showing through his jacket. “We’ll need to replace the dressing before we go any further.” He reached over and released Ned’s seatbelt.
Gritting his teeth, Ned grimaced. “No, we will not change the dressing. There is no time!” Again he pointed. Look there, Tim.”
“What am I looking at, Ned? There are no cars, just empty road and trees as far as I can see!”
Unable to move, Ned said, “Son, look again, by the side of the road. It's red. Now do you see it?”
But before he finished the question, Tim was out of the car. He squatted and reached for it. Then he remembered the baggie in his pocket. He looked up at Ned who was smiling at this small victory.
Using a stick, Tim pushed two pieces of the broken taillight and placed them in the baggie.
Once back in the car, Ned said simply, “Well done.”
They examined the fragments, still in the bag, one larger piece and one smaller.
“You think Caroline did this from inside the trunk? Maybe with her foot?”
“What I think now, Tim." He paused, examining the bag again, “ is that Caroline just left us a bread crumb!” He smiled broadly.
They wasted no time driving through Sherbrooke. But about five miles out of Sheet Harbour, they noticed skid marks on the road and muddy tire tracks. Then flashing blue lights, orange cones in the road, and a waiting ambulance. An RCMP car was parked in front of them.
“Caroline!” they shouted in unison. It was their first thought. They scrambled from the car. Ned felt no pain in that moment.
A Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman approached them. “No gawking, gentlemen. Back in your car and move along. Give these folks the privacy they are due.”
“Wait!” Ned spoke first. “Is one of those cars a Toyota?” There was urgency in Ned’s voice, and the constable heard it.
“Yessir, but how did you know—?
Ned was already on the move with Tim right behind him.
“Wait, gentlemen!” He spoke more firmly. “Stop right where you are!”
Ned turned to face the officer, defiance in his stance.
Tim smelled the gasoline first. “Officer, open the trunk in that car,” he said, pointing to the Toyotas. “There’s a girl in the trunk.” He was pleading. “Please, officer.”
The RCMP smelled the gas then, too. He ran to the car, reached inside the open car door. The driver of the car was being lifted into the idling ambulance. The constable popped the trunk.
Ned and Tim groaned in relief. The trunk was empty. The wail of the ambulance startled them.
“Wait,” Tim shouted. “Is there a woman about my age in there? She has brown hair.” He stopped.
"It's an older woman, sir. Odd, though, we haven't found the driver who struck her car and drove her off the road. We are searching the forest now."
The constable raised both his hands. He was clearly perplexed, but he needed their immediate attention.
“We have to move away quickly. This car is about to blow up.” He glanced back at the car and saw flames licking the side of the car like a wild creature after its prey. “Quickly now. Move! Behind my cruiser!”
Both men practically carried Ned. They ducked behind the cruiser, just as hot metal exploded around them.
 |
When it was safe, the three men stood and came from behind the cruiser to see what looked like a battle scene from WWII. Metal was strewn everywhere, some still burning. Two cars were involved in the accident and both were involved in the explosion.
The officer went to call it in while Ned and Tim stood. Slowly heart rates and breathing returned to normal. Ned was listing a little to the left, and he looked ashen.
“You okay, Ned?” Tim’s voice carried his concern.
“No, I'm not, Tim.” His body trembled a bit. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “That was not just a gasoline explosion.” He looked at Tim. “That was a car bomb, and I think it was meant for us.
“You can't be serious.” Shock spread over his face, and his eyes narrowed.
“Didn't you notice that the car that was driven off the road was the same make and model as the one we are driving?”
“Well, now that you mention it-—.”
Ned added, “And I'm afraid that bomb was meant for us, Tim!”
Just then, the constable returned.
Had he heard?
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