“Yes and yes.”
“I need to be lifted up to the Flagg house as quickly as possible.”
“I’d need Flagg’s permission to do that.” Vern burned his gaze into Ian. “’Sides, you can easily get into the place from the road. There’s a security gate up at the end of the street for vehicle access, but you can hoof it over there.”
Ian didn’t have time to waste, but the guy wasn’t budging. “I need to surprise him.”
“He’s up there?”
“Yes, and he’s about to kill a woman. We have no more time to talk. Either help me or I’ll arrest you for impeding an investigation.”
Vern crossed his arms. “Flagg’s no killer.”
“You’ll have to take my word for it.” Ian jerked Vern’s door open. “Let’s move.”
Vern picked up his hat and slid out slowly. Ian had had enough. He grabbed the man’s shoulder and catapulted him toward the lift.
Ian dug out his phone and earbuds from his pocket then looked at Londyn, who remained by the car. “Keep in touch with our back up. Call me, and we’ll stay connected so I can update you.”
Vern put his key in the control panel on the side of the machine. The diesel fired up, running loud by the lift’s base, but Ian hoped the distance and rain prevented Flagg from hearing it.
Vern turned the key. “We’re good to get into the basket and take control from there.”
Ian raced to the metal-framed basket and jumped in. Vern joined him. The machine was in the right location and didn’t need to be moved.
“Fast as you can,” Ian said to Vern and swiped the rain from his face.
He pressed his foot on a pedal and shoved the joystick control forward, and they headed into the dark night sky. Ian’s view of the house was blocked by trees, but he lifted his rifle and waited for the basket to crest the top of tall pines. He searched the back of the house. It was dark, but his scope cut through it and gave him a clear view again.
Flagg and Malone hadn’t moved much. What were they looking at inside the house?
Ian couldn’t focus on that now. He had to plan his approach as they rose higher. “Does Flagg have security cameras on the build site?”
“A few, but they point toward the road.”
After Vern’s reluctance, Ian didn’t know if the guy was telling the truth, and Ian couldn’t be too careful with Malone’s life. He would check. He ran his scope over the building. If Flagg had cameras facing the hillside, they would light up like a spotlight in his night vision.
Nothing flared. Good. They were clear.
He focused on the house. There. Finally the pair turned and jumped down to the ground. Ian could make out their faces. Malone and Flagg. Ian was sure now. Malone was moving normally. A large goose egg on her head but no other visible injuries. Flagg wasn’t brandishing a weapon, but he’d tied Malone’s hands and was holding the rope.
Ian had to get up there before he hurt her. “Faster.”
“Going as fast as I can in this rain,” Vern said.
Ian raised his rifle, wanting to shoot. There was no evidence that Malone was in immediate danger, and Ian couldn’t shout.
But what could he do?
He couldn’t jump Flagg unless Vern maneuvered the basket into position right next to Flagg. That wouldn’t work. If Flagg saw Ian’s approach, he’d have time to harm Malone or take her hostage.
No. Ian couldn’t let either of those happen.
Flagg faced Malone and pushed her to the ground. A knife came up in his hand, and he bent over her. His arm started down.
“Stop, police!” Ian shouted.
Flagg spun, but Ian didn’t know if the knife had hit home before he turned.
