He was moving fast but carefully. Learning to "take his time in a hurry" had been an essential part of his training, back when he was a little tyke on his dad's ranch. Without wasting any motion, Cal took some pics of the contents of the drawers, showing the firearms and the caps.

But it was in the corner of the closet, concealed under a stack of folded blankets, behind some scattered shoes, that Cal finally found what he needed. A ledger book, with entries showing Ray's record of his distributions, including dates, code names, quant.i.ties of drugs delivered, and the payoffs received.

And under the ledger, packs of hundred-dollar bills, still in their bank wrappers. Cal ran a thumb over the edge of one of the packs. Each of them held a hundred bills. A recent payoff, then, not yet removed to its more permanent hiding place. Most likely Ray planned to launder it through the car dealership to an off-sh.o.r.e numbered bank account, beyond the easy reach of prying regulators.

Still working quickly, he photographed the hiding place, then moved the blankets and took pictures of the ledger, closed and then opened to selected pages, and a careful close-up of the bills, fanned out to show the quant.i.ty.

He glanced at his watch. Only another minute before Jamie was due back. He checked to be sure there was no sign that he'd been there, and he picked his way through the cluttered trailer, back to the door. There had been no phone call and he'd had no need to use his Smith and Wesson.

He stood to one side of the window and checked that no one had approached the trailer. Outside, the field was quiet, dry in the hot mid-day sun, and in the distance, a tractor moved slowly, raising a shimmering cloud of dust.

Right on schedule, the truck appeared, trailing its own cloud of billowing, sandy dust, and Cal quickly let himself out of the trailer, being careful to lock the door behind him. Everything had gone perfectly.

"Good girl," he said as he climbed up to the pa.s.senger side of the truck. "Let's move it out of here."

"Are you okay?" Jamie headed back to Harvey's ranch as fast as she could go without risking the attention of a local trooper. "Did you find what you wanted? Did you have any problems?

"Yes, yes, and no." Cal laughed, answering her questions in order. "It was just like I figured. That ex-husband of yours is doing it big-time. My affidavit should be enough to get a court order, but I've got pictures to back it up." He slid down in the seat, his long legs braced up against the dash board and he leaned his head back against the seat. He pushed his hat forward almost over his eyes and grinned happily.

"Let's go make a phone call to Elaine French. We've got some good news for her."

Chapter Eighteen.

They went back to the ranch to use the land line in Harvey's office.

"The van's not here," Cal said, looking over the row of vehicles parked in the smooth dirt driveway. "Ellie's probably got the kids with her over to Butcher's Fork." He paused on the kitchen steps and peered out toward the pasture.

"I don't see Harv, either. Looks like the whole family's gone."

She followed him through the kitchen where the table was already set for the next meal. There were kids' drawings on the refrigerator door and a bowl of fresh fruit on the countertop. The room was so clean and orderly it might have been waiting to be photographed. A pang of longing stopped her for a moment. For Jamie, this homey, ordinary kitchen glowed with the aura of normal family life, comfortable in its orderliness, its sense of children cared for, parents responsible and reliable.

This, she imagined, is how it is in a normal, happy home. This is what I want for Mandy and me.

She sighed, acknowledging the moment's bittersweet awareness of her dreams-and her losses. She kept it all to herself as she joined Cal.

"I'll show you were the phone is," he said, leading her down the hall, "and get you Elaine's number. Then I'll heat up some coffee for us. There's a pot left from breakfast. I'm the only one around here drinks coffee."

The room Harvey used as an office had a small desk, some file cabinets, and a big, comfortable old chair that was covered in dark brown leather.

"Here's Elaine's number," he said, scrolling through the contacts on his cell phone. "You start talking to her and I'll get us some coffee."

Elaine French sat back in the big leather chair, set a fresh yellow pad in front of her on the desk, and wrote the day's date in the upper margin.

"Okay, Jamie," she said into the speaker phone. "Tell me what's happening."

Jamie started with the news of Edna's illness, and a big satisfied smile brightened Elaine's face.

"This is super. Just super, Jamie. It's exactly what we need-just the kind of change in circ.u.mstances that can convince the judge to modify the original custody award." She ticked off the a.n.a.lysis: "One, Edna won't be taking care of Mandy anymore. And two, Ervil refuses to have the child there in his home. It's a beginning. It gives us a stronger case than we had before."

She didn't give an instant's sympathy to either Edna or Ervil. As far as she was concerned, they were on the side of the bad guys and now it looked like they were out of her way. Her mind raced ahead. Now, if Cal could dig up some information on Ray Nixon . . .

Jamie interrupted her train of thought. "There's lots more, Elaine. Hold on a minute and I'll let Cal tell you all about it. He's just getting us some coffee."

Elaine tapped her pen on the yellow pad in eager impatience.

This is great. I'll bet that darling cowboy has turned up something on that bunch. I knew I could count on him.

She heard Jamie say, "Here, you can talk to her," and then it was Cal on the line.

"How're you doing Elaine? I told Jamie you'd be in your office today, even if it is Sat.u.r.day."

She didn't bother to tell him that it had been many years since anything gave her as much pleasure as she found in her work.

"Fact is," she said, "I'm just now preparing the pet.i.tion to modify Jamie's divorce decree. What she just told me, about Mandy's grandmother being so sick. That's great. That's going to help a lot. And she said there's more. So what have you got for me, Cal?"

"We got plenty. We may even have enough to hang that ex-husband of Jamie's out to dry."

"Great! That's just great!" She flipped a switch on the phone console behind her on the credenza. I'm going to record this, Cal, if that's okay with you."

"Sure thing, Elaine. No problem. Now, here it is."

While Elaine made rapid notes on her legal pad, interrupting him occasionally to ask a question, Cal reviewed everything he had seen at the trailer.

"I got photos, too-just fifteen minutes ago-pictures of the ledgers, and all that drug stuff all over the place and the paraphernalia and what's probably the payoff money. And there's a bunch of guns in that trailer and loose ammo and everything. That's going to be enough to convince a judge that Mandy shouldn't be allowed to be with him, isn't it?"

Elaine laughed. "It should be enough after I get finished with him. And I'm not going to ask you how you got all this. I feel pretty sure Ray Nixon didn't invite you in to take a look at his place."

"Let's just say the front door was open and I sort of went in to wait for him, you know? Like one old friend to another."

"Some old friend."

"Well, I guess Ray and I have some mutual acquaintances." Cal glanced at Jamie and winked.

"However you got it, this is terrific stuff. If it all checks out, I think the custody change is going to be easy. We may even have enough here to get more than a custody change. We may be able to have that b.a.s.t.a.r.d put away!"

"Right. And there's more. Wait'll you hear what I found out in the desert." He gave her a full account of the evidence he'd found in the desert east of Sharperville. "The Feds ought to be interested in that. Experts would have no trouble connecting up those tire tracks to Ray's van."

Elaine grinned, looking over the notes on her pad.

Her energetic mind was already putting it all together.

"Cal, can you put me on speaker? I want to talk to you both."

Cal put the phone on speaker and in the staccato, highly concentrated style that was typical of Elaine French when she was going into action, she laid out her plan.

"First of all, I'll do a little digging to verify Edna Nixon's condition. That's protected information, of course, but I've got some friends up at the hospital." She smiled to herself. She had connections and contacts everywhere, and when she needed to have the rules bent a bit, she usually could get a little help from her friends. "I'll have to get it doc.u.mented, but I think I can handle that. Shouldn't be a problem." She flipped over to a new page on the yellow pad and made some more notes. "Next, I'm going to locate the judge who's replaced Judge Joyner. Hold on a minute." She reached into the credenza behind her and pulled out a state Bar directory, flipping quickly through the pages. "Let's see. You're in the Sixth District. That's Judge Amos A. Prescott. I'll call him right now and tell him we need a temporary restraining order. Immediately. Let's hope he hasn't gone fishing for the weekend." Even as she was copying out the judge's address and office number into her notes, she added, "Don't worry. Even if he has gone fishing, I'll find him. I'll call you back as soon as I know when and where we can meet with him to get the order signed. Give me a number where I can reach you."

Cal gave her Harvey's number and she added it to her contacts. Then she looked at her watch and compared the time with the crystal-mounted gold clock on the bookcase across the room. "Let's see. It's almost noon. It'll take me about two, maybe three hours to get everything together here, talk to my people at the hospital, do the paperwork, and contact Judge Prescott. Depending on where he can meet us, I'd expect to need about four or five hours' driving time. So it'll be maybe seven, eight o'clock. Around sundown. I'll let you know as soon as we have it arranged."

"We'll be there," Jamie said. "Wherever you tell us to be, we'll meet you." She liked Elaine's take-charge style, but things were happening so quickly. "Just one thing, what does that mean-temporary restraining order?"

"It means we go directly to the judge, right now, wherever we can find him, without waiting for a formal court date, and convince him that Mandy is in danger of serious, immediate harm if she stays with Ray." That'll do for a simple explanation, she thought to herself. "We really do need to get her away from Ray as quickly as possible."

The harsh words came from Elaine so plainly, so unemotionally that Jamie felt as though she'd been dropped suddenly and painfully from a height, and she gasped, reacting involuntarily. Elaine couldn't see that Jamie was momentarily dazed, that she had made an abrupt stop in her slow pacing around the room and had leaned her head against the window, steadying herself, with her eyes closed. But Elaine did hear Jamie's gasp and she brought herself up short.

It wasn't the first time she'd been so preoccupied with her own rapid-fire thoughts and her typically super-charged level of activity she'd forgotten she was dealing with real people, people who had feelings, people who sometimes needed to be treated with consideration. She needed to remember not to just lay all this tough stuff on them-boom-boom-boom-without giving some thought to how it sounded from their side. After all, she reminded herself, Jamie is Mandy's mother. To Jamie, the idea of her daughter being in real danger was not simply a significant legal development. It was a crucial, life-and-death matter that touched her where she was most vulnerable, and she, Elaine, needed to remember that.

She slowed herself down a couple of calibrations on her activity dial.

"I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to say it so coldly. But that's precisely the point that we have to get across to the judge. Mandy is facing imminent and irreparable harm. Those are the words we have to use and I know that's tough for you to bear, but first of all, that's the truth, and second, for that very reason, it's what will convince the judge that he has to get Mandy away from that sonofab.i.t.c.h and back to you."

"I know. It's just, hearing you say it like that, just right out there." Jamie's hands were sweating and her stomach had gone sick. "I just can't help being scared."

"Of course. Perfectly natural. It would be crazy if you weren't scared. You're right to be scared and that's the whole point of the affidavits I'm going to prepare for both of you now."

"Okay." Jamie took a deep breath and steadied herself down. "What comes next?"

"Later, after we've convinced the judge to sign that order and Ray hands Mandy over to you, then the next step is to bring a full action to modify the decree, to make it permanent.

"And now, Cal," she continued, turning her attention to him, "there are a couple of things I want you to do, help me save some time."

"You betcha," he said. "Anything you say, ma'am."

"First of all, I want you to contact the local drug enforcement agents. There's a couple of DEA guys stationed downstate and I'll give you their names. Give them all the information you have. Tell them you're working with me, and if there's any problem, they should call me here at this number. Also, I'll give you the number of my cell phone, in case I've already left my office."

She waited while Cal took down all the names and numbers. Then she added, "And the other thing is, don't do anything with the pics you took. Text them to me and I can get them printed up here to have them available for trial. I think, by the time we're finished with Ray Nixon, he's not going to be interested in hara.s.sing Jamie anymore. Now, that's it, sweetie pie. I got to get going on this. Stay where you are. I'll be in touch soon."

That was all the goodbye they got.

She had too much to do to spend time on cordialities. There were calls to make. Papers to draft. Motions, affidavits, covering memorandums. And she'd have to change her outfit. On Sat.u.r.days, she usually wore casual clothes to the office-jeans and running shoes-but there was always a change of clothes on reserve in her closet, in case of an unexpected court appearance or, like today, a meeting with a judge. She checked quickly-pantsuit, blouse, pumps, handbag-everything there, ready for her. The weekend staff was in the office and she alerted the off-hours word processors to be ready for the affidavits and other papers she'd be drafting. Then she got busy on the telephone.

Cal hung up and went over to Jamie standing at the window, staring out across the field. She turned and looked at him as though he'd roused her from a sleep.

"She's some dynamo, isn't she?" Cal said.

Jamie wasn't listening. "Cal, I'm so scared. I'm so d.a.m.ned scared."

"Sure you are." He put an arm around her. "But we're going to get Mandy back. You'll see. It's going to be all right." He led her to the desk, and took his arm from her only long enough to dial the numbers Elaine had given him.

"I'm calling the drug enforcement people," he said. He held her close the whole time he talked on the phone.

In his cluttered office, the DEA agent swiveled his chair away from the stack of files he was working his way through, and grabbed the phone.

"Yeah?" It was no greeting, but Jerry Metzger didn't have much time to give away.

"My name is Cal Cameron. I'm calling from Sharperville and I have some information for you."

"Okay. What have you got?" Wearily, Metzger picked up a pen and started to take notes. He figured the call to be just another piece of routine citizen contact. Then he heard who made the referral.

"You're working with Elaine French?" He sat right up in his chair. When Cal was finished, the agent was already in motion.

Sometimes, Metzger was thinking exultantly, it all comes together just right, like G.o.d decided to do you a favor and got everything organized just for your benefit.

If they moved fast, this would tie right in with the simultaneous bust they had just finished setting up in several western cities. Six months they'd been putting it together and here was an important piece, just falling into place, like a gift from heaven.

"We'll get right on it," Metzger said brusquely. "We'll dispatch a team in there right away, Mr. Cameron. Give me a number where we can reach you. And you stay in touch with us, okay?"

"You bet," Cal said, and he had barely hung up the phone when Elaine was back on the line.

"We're in business!" she said. "I got hold of the judge. He's over in Garrison County this week, and he'll meet us in Flintlock. That's the county seat. You know where the courthouse is?"

"I don't, but maybe Jamie does. Don't worry, well find it."

"Good. Now, let me talk to Jamie." As soon as Jamie had taken the phone, Elaine said, "The courthouse in Flintlock. On Main Street. Be there at eight o'clock tonight. The judge will meet us at the front door and let us in. Any questions?"

"Is there anything I need to prepare? Anything I should bring?"

"Not a thing. I'm having the whole file faxed to Judge Prescott so he'll have had a chance to review it before tonight. And I'm preparing the affidavits and all the other papers now. You just show up on time. Go on home, if you need to change your clothes. I want you to look tidy and responsible. That's all we need. Be ready to answer any questions, tell only the truth, nothing more, and follow my lead. I'll do the rest."

And the phone went dead in Jamie's hand. She looked up at Cal. "Well, it's all set."

"That's right, darlin'. If all goes well, we'll have Mandy in your arms before morning."

Chapter Nineteen.

The parking lot outside the Garrison County Courthouse was usually empty on a Sat.u.r.day night, but Judge Amos Prescott's Land Rover was already there when Jamie and Cal pulled in at about a quarter to eight. They parked next to the big black SUV and Cal used the extra fifteen minutes to run across the street to a cafe to pick up a couple of cartons of coffee and some doughnuts. Earlier, when they pa.s.sed through the town of Jimson, he'd insisted they stop for dinner at the town's combination motel and diner, but Jamie had only picked at her chicken salad, mostly just pushing it around on her plate.

Now, she was pacing back and forth in front of Cal who was leaning against the truck's front fender, drinking his coffee. She came to a stop in front of him.

"The last judge was such a jerk. How do we know this one won't be as bad?" She looked down and saw the doughnut he had put into her hand. She raised it, about to take a bite, and then forgot it just as quickly. "How do I know Elaine will be able to convince him? Maybe he'll believe what's in the record about me. Maybe he won't see any reason to take Mandy away from her father."