#youlikeit - BLACKBIRD book 1

4. the lion's den

Brock's steady foot on the gas got them to Stone and Sturbridge five minutes ahead of the rest of the team. Gillian knew he wouldn't even glance at her, so she pulled up her skirt a little to grab the twenty-two she carried in a holster fastened to her thigh. She checked the load and holstered it back, then she fished her bag for her state badge and slid it into the pocket of her coat.

Brock pulled over to the shoulder of the road and killed the engine, keeping his hands on the wheel and his glare on his side mirror. He heard her take a few deep breaths and wondered sourly if she was about to drink some more to calm down. But she didn't. The headlights from the other cars showed up behind them and she got out of the SUV. He stayed in.

A moment later, Ron's car pulled over behind the SUV and the three men stepped out, as Aldana's car went on past the next corner of Stone Road. Fred grabbed the bag with his rifle and pressed on after it in the light rain.

The rearview showed Brock how Hank smelled Gillian's breath and smiled. Were they about to congratulate her, too? Then the three of them followed Fred, hurrying by the SUV without even glancing at Brock. So he started the engine, geared in and drove past them, heading north to meet the troopers. If there were actually any troopers to meet, and it wasn't just a ruse to keep him out of the way. He saw Russell and Fred crouch by the rear tire of Aldana's car. The men wore police vests, and Russell had his FBI Kevlar and rain jacket. It would be quite a show, watching Cooper's face when she found out an agent from her staff had been involved in this.

Aldana's car was parked at the access to a muddy trail, leading down into the pitch black woods. Brock took mental note of their position and drove away.

"He's leaving?" asked Ron, frowning.

"If someone can keep the troopers at bay, that's him," replied Gillian.

Hank chuckled. "He'll have them with one of his scowls."

As soon as they joined the other three, Fred explained how to get to the cabin and they all spread out to take their positions. Gillian and Aldana opened a bottle of whiskey, emptied half of it in the bushes and took one last deep breath. Then Gillian wrapped her arm around Aldana's, who held the bottle, and they trod into the woods together. They sang aloud, their voices going up and down and rolling the words as if they were drunk, using their phones to cast some light on the trail, ignoring the mud and the puddles. Ron and Hank kept pace at each side of the trail, hidden among the thicket. Both women felt their hearts racing when they spotted the lights of the cabin ahead in the woods.

Gillian raised her voice to say, "Look, Al! A house!"

"Hey! House!" Aldana shouted out.

They hesitated when all the lights went off in the cabin, but they kept going anyway.

"People in the house!" Aldana called again. "C'mon, don't be shy!"

"We bring our own booze!" cried Gillian.

The lights were turned on again. They traded a quick glance as they approached the solitary cabin.

An endless minute later they reached the few steps that climbed to the porch. They were about to set foot on them when the front door opened, and the light reflected on Rupert Bailey's bald head. They looked up at him, flashing their best drunk grins.

"Hey, handsome! I knew you were in there!" said Aldana.

"What're you doing here this late, ladies?" Rupert asked from the doorway. "How can I help you?"

Gillian hiccupped, shaking her head, and pointed back at the road. "Our car broke down, damn junk. Right there, the frigging junk."

"It didn't break down," said Aldana, and grinned up at Rupert again. "It's a flat tire."

Gillian pretended her knees buckled and grasped the handrail.

"You okay?" asked Rupert, finally stepping out.

"I—I don't know," she murmured, putting a hand to her head.

Rupert came down the steps with a concerned frown.

"You need to get out of the rain. Come in." He turned to Aldana. "I'll help you with the flat tire, let's take your friend inside first."

He rounded Gillian's waist gently with his arm and she rested against his side, allowing the man to help her up to the porch and through the door.

She noticed the cabin was nicer and cleaner inside than it looked from the outside. The front door led them into a large, cozy family room with the kitchen at the furthest end, where she spotted the backdoor. The front half of the room had a fire burning in the fireplace, which kept the place warm, with two arm chairs and a small coffee table on top of an old but spotless rug that covered the dark wooden floorboards. Past the armchairs, closer to the kitchen, there was a table with four chairs around it. A door was ajar on the inner wall on the right, and she caught a glimpse of a corridor behind it, which surely led to the bedrooms and the bathroom. The smell of the firewood mixed with a hint of cleaning products in the air. There wasn't even a trace of food or any other odor.

Rupert guided them to the table and pulled out a chair, making Gillian sit down with her back turned to the corridor door.

"Thank you," she mumbled, eyes barely open, managing another drunk smile. "Thank you oh so very much."

"Can you wait here on your own?" asked Rupert, running for Gentleman of the Year. "If you do, I can go check on your car and replace the flat tire, so you can go home. Even though you shouldn't drive on such an awful night after having a couple of drinks."

Aldana patted his arm with the back of her hand, startling him, and shaped a confident liquored smile. "Don't worry," she said, her voice going up, then down. "I'm driving."

Rupert nodded, still frowning. "Okay, then, wanna show me to your car? Do you have a lug wrench?"

"Yeah, yeah, I have everything in the trunk."

"And d'you have a spare?"

"Of course I have a spare, mister!"

"Oh, please, Al, just shut up," grunted Gillian, as if fighting to stay awake.

"You hang on, we'll be right back," Rupert said to her, and turned to Aldana. "Shall we?"

Gillian hated seeing them leave, but it was exactly what she needed. So far their plan was working. She couldn't tell if lovely Carl Bailey watched her from the corridor, so she had to assume he was there.

She hiccupped and pushed her chair to turn it a few inches to the table. She shrugged out of her coat, letting it drop behind her on the chair. Then she folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them, as if about to take a nap. She let her hair fall to hide her face, and stretched a leg to the side, exposing more of it when the dress slid up her thigh. Then she let out a tired sigh and stayed very quiet, all of her senses focused on the house behind her.