Connie was hiding behind the guy and yelled for him to drop it. I guess he didn’t and she was about to double-tap two in his back when Taggart tackled him and saved the guy’s life.”
“Yeah, I heard that, too,” Hobbs said.
“Goes to show you shouldn’t listen to rumours.”
“You’re right.” Hobbs gestured ahead. “End of the road. We’re here,” he said, coming to a stop.
For a moment, both men gazed up at the cellphone tower, which loomed above the trees. “So now what?” Philips asked.
Hobbs glanced at his watch. “It’s twenty to five. Gonna be dark soon. Especially in the woods. We’ll let the dog handler do his thing.”
“If there’s a body in there the mutt should find it,” Philips said.
“Taggart says we got a body … and I tend to believe him. The big question is where.”
Two hours passed and it was dark when the dog handler called off his search. “No bodies today, gentlemen,” he reported. “Picked up some scent — people have been up here recently, but we didn’t find anything.”
“I appreciate the effort.” Hobbs glanced at the German shepherd and added, “From both of you.”
His phone rang and he answered it. Seconds later, he gave Philips a thumbs-up sign before jotting down an address in his notebook. Upon ending the call, he turned to Philips and said, “Damien’s phone has been reactivated. We’ve got an address.”
“Meaning Damien is still alive?” Philips asked.
“Or someone found it … or some other biker’s got it.” Hobbs punched a number into his phone. “I’m calling Taggart. I’m told he knows these guys inside out.”
Jack was about to push himself away from the supper table when his phone vibrated. “I-HIT,” he said by way of explanation to Natasha, before answering.
“Jack, it’s George Hobbs. I’m calling about that cellphone you sent us out on.”
“Any luck?”
“Maybe. The call you made at noon to Damien took us to up Sumas Mountain to a cellphone tower.”
“Did you find anything? Being that close to a cellphone tower makes it hard to triangulate and pinpoint the exact spot.”
“We had the canine unit take a look, but came up negative. Incidentally the road leading into the tower is called Taggart Road … if that means anything.”
Pure E, you bastard! Enough already. “It wouldn’t be the first message I received today,” he said tersely.
“I’ve some interesting news, though,” Hobbs said. “A couple of minutes ago the phone was turned on.”
“Bet they tossed it and someone found it,” Jack replied.
“Sort of what I was thinking, but I’ve got an address and I’m wondering if you know who lives there. If it’s Damien who’s got the phone, all this is for nothing. If he’s dead, then I want to know who has his phone and how they got it.”
“I’ve got a list of addresses in my notebook — hang on a sec.” Jack pulled his notebook from his hip pocket. As he did, he glanced at his two sons. Ten-year-old Mike was clearing dishes from the table. His brother, Steve, a year younger, rudely shoved his empty plate toward Mike for him to take away. Jack smiled to himself. Next month it was Steve’s turn to do dishes, and he knew Mike would get even. “Okay, what’s the address?”
When Hobbs spoke, Jack didn’t need to check his notebook. The terror he felt was intense.
“Any idea who lives there?” Hobbs asked.
Jack turned to Natasha. “Take the boys and go down to the basement!” he yelled. “Don’t turn the lights on and keep away from the windows!”
Natasha’s face was white with fear, but she knew this was not the time for questions. “Mike, Steve, let’s go!” she commanded.
Both Mike and Steve hurried down the basement steps. Natasha gave one quick look at Jack over her shoulder, then followed them down.
“What’s going on?” Hobbs asked.
“The address you gave is mine,” Jack said.
“What? How’d you end up with the cellphone?”
“Good question.”
“Maybe you should call the number and listen for it to ring.”
“Cellphones can be used to detonate bombs,” Jack said abruptly while running to his bedroom to retrieve his Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol.
“Oh, Christ!”
“Stay on the line. I’m going to take a look around. There was a van on the street when I came home. Hadn’t seen it before.”
“Can you describe it?”
“It was white with a sign on the door saying Abe’s Furnace Repair.” Jack grabbed his pistol and peered out a window. “It’s gone. I’m going to take a look outside.”
“Maybe you should call the bomb squad,” Hobbs suggested.
“Got my family in the basement. I want to make sure there isn’t a package in a window well or something. If you hear a blast, call 9-1-1 for me.”
“Christ,” Hobbs said again.
Jack grabbed a flashlight, went into his garage, and slipped out the side door. A quick search around the basement foundation didn’t turn up anything. It was when he circled the house and arrived at the front door that he noticed the lid on the mailbox was up. He cautiously approached and looked inside. The cellphone was there. At first he felt relief that it wasn’t attached to a bomb — then anger set in and he grabbed it. “You fucking bastard!”
“Me?” Hobbs said.
“No, Purvis Evans. I’ve got the phone. It was left in my mailbox. There’s no bomb.”
“What a relief. I was shitting bricks here. Do you … want us to come over?” Hobbs asked.
“No, I’m sure whoever left it is gone — so’s the van. I’ll bring it in tomorrow. I better get back to my family. They’ll be scared.”
“Can’t blame them. So was I.”
On ending the call, Jack entered his house. “False alarm!” he yelled. “Everything’s okay. You can come up.”
As his family headed back up the stairs, Jack examined Damien’s phone. Hey … it’s not even password encrypted. Then he saw three pictures: Natasha gardening, Mike and Steve arriving home from school, and him embracing Natasha. Pure E, you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.
“What’s going on?” Natasha’s face was sombre
