Ed sat in his Jeep outside the Dutchman's Diner staring up at the sign depicting a windmill and a man wearing wooden shoes. The whole thing looked silly and out of place here with the Rockies as a backdrop, but the egg sandwich in his hand was delicious.

Barnes had made his move around eight-thirty and the pickup truck left town heading north on the Interstate. There was always this temptation to eyeball the target, but the GPS was working fine. At least he could finish his sandwich before following along.

Barnes would probably go past Front River before leaving the Interstate and following a road west towards the mountains. On Google, the area beyond that town had one outstanding feature, Cheyenne Mountain State Park. The vast acreage open to the public was also home to the Cheyenne Mountain NORAD facility, part of the U.S. Air Force nuclear defense system.

Ed didn't know what kind of land Barnes owned, and he was unsure how many people it might take to operate a meth lab. Stan had been a part of that enterprise and at least they could prove that fact. Barnes was the joker in the deck and they would need some hard evidence to bring him down.

With the sandwich gone Ed pulled back on the access road and sped up the on ramp into light traffic. He was about ten miles behind Barnes and decided to close the gap at least until the man exited the Interstate. Once they left the main roads he would remain a mile or two behind because there were probably a whole bunch of little dirt tracks up into the private properties.

Ed had just seen the first sign for Colorado Springs when the GPS showed that Barnes had left the Interstate about eight miles ahead. He sped up to reach that interchange and left the highway. This was a pretty good county road headed for the mountains, and sure enough, he passed a sign for the Cheyenne Mountain State Park.

The land in this area was sparsely populated, at least along the highway, but there were dozens of access roads leading off into the scrub covered fields and spotty clumps of trees. Marsh had described Barnes' land as being in the woods so that meant getting closer to the park.

The view of the mountains was spectacular out here which meant the land was probably expensive. Ed could understand owning a home out this way but it was miles back to town and the nearest grocery store. He almost didn't notice the little red dot stop moving on the screen and so he pulled over to the side of the road.

The map on his tablet would show him the exact GPS coordinates if he zoomed in close. Then he could enter that data in his handheld GPS locator which would give him direction and distance to target. He wasn't planning to drive right on up to wherever they were going. He would have to make that final approach on foot.

That begged the question as to what kind of facility they had for this lab. He'd seen the odd house trailer here and there off the road along with some very nice expensive homes. A small trailer would be all they needed for a meth lab and that was probably what he would discover. He just hoped there were a lot of trees around for cover so he could get close enough to take some photos.

The dot started moving again at a different angle. Here's where it gets tricky, Ed thought. He watched the dot move away from the paved road and decided to pull up and see what was going to be in his way.

There was a dirt and gravel road heading across a bit of scrub land and into a clump of trees. Ed was glad to see those trees, but he was not happy to see the gate which barred his way. It was a cattle gate with only a slide bar to keep it shut, there was no lock.

He looked around on both sides of the road for a place to hide the Jeep. There really wasn't a whole lot of cover except for the trees beyond the gate. The dot was still moving towards the mountains. What if he had to follow this damn dirt track for ten miles? That decided it and Ed got out and opened the gate.

He was on private property now but that was a risk he would have to take. He closed the gate behind the Jeep and followed where the red dot had gone only fifteen minutes before. Ed had just reached the trees and pulled in under the cover when the red dot stopped moving. Now it was time to hide the Jeep and bail out.

The woods were a mixture of oak and pine. The ground would be softer in there and might leave tracks, but what choice did he have? He chose a spot where the ground cover seemed to have a natural gap and dropped the transmission of the Jeep into four wheel drive. Ever so slowly he pulled through the gap and into the trees.

There was no trail, just what appeared to be openings in the growth beneath the trees. Ed drove about two hundred feet and slowly turned around. Always paid to point yourself back the way you came, it might be dark before he left here. He couldn't imagine staying the whole day because it wouldn't take that long to scout the property.

The red dot had definitely stopped moving. Ed zoomed in on the position and the coordinates began to appear. N 38.737213 and W 104.880806, that was where Barnes' pickup sat and Ed entered those numbers in his handheld device.

He placed his small digital camera in his waist pack, already heavy with the Glock pistol in the quick draw pouch. Only a fool went unarmed out in the wild, and the .45 caliber hollow point bullets would probably stop a bear. Oh please, no bears, Ed thought.

He left the ignition key on the overhead visor, but before he got out he slid open the upper trim and threw the switch on the Jeep's GPS tracker. It made him wonder if Bill would be watching. The little LED screen gave him the Jeep's position and he entered those numbers in the handheld unit's memory. Now he could find his way back here.

The unit said that Barnes was located about three miles away and Ed looked at the surrounding trees and the ground cover. It might take him a while to get there with all the obstacles strewn across the forest floor, but first he had to go back and check his tracks.

It was easy to see which way the Jeep had come, there were ruts here and there and the needle covered forest floor was imprinted with tire tracks. He followed the tracks back to the road. It didn't look too bad on the harder packed soil but to be cautious he took some fallen branches and did his best to eradicate any sign of his passing.

He could walk right up the road, but that was plain foolish. Anyone up at the site would be looking that way. Not that he expected Barnes would have detection equipment installed, but there might be an infra-red beam or magnetic detector to sense any vehicle traffic approaching the lab.

Ed moved back into the trees and started to follow the road. He wound around natural obstacles, a boulder here and there, a fallen tree. The GPS unit said he was about halfway there when he heard the whine of an engine approaching out on the road and he hit the deck. Sure enough, the Sheriff's pickup truck bumped its way across the potholes headed back towards the county road.

Damn, this wasn't good. He'd wanted some photos of the Sheriff near the lab, although if he owned the property he was already nailed. Ed watched the dust settle out on the road as the pickup disappeared from sight. Now what?

Perhaps Barnes had dropped off those boxes he had stored in the garage and decided to leave. Didn't mean no one was there, just that his part of the trip was over. The handheld unit was not made for tracking vehicles, only for locating a certain point on the ground. Ed knew he would have to proceed, and with caution.

His hiking boots made a slight crunch as he compressed the pine needles, but he was careful not to snap any twigs. He could have been a scout in the Army, but that didn't seem as exciting as police work. This wasn't the first time Ed had to sneak up on an installation in the woods, but that was during training and this was real.

He could see the road through the trees and saw it took a slight turn up a small hill and into some clear space. The handheld said he was within a hundred yards of the target and…there it was. The trailer was painted gray with some kind of primer and it was sitting on blocks against a screen of trees. Ed doubted if overhead surveillance would be able to spot the damn thing.

He'd wondered about that being this close to an Air Force installation. A facility like Cheyenne Mountain had to be loaded with security. In fact, Ed pulled out his cell phone and saw no bars on the little LED screen. Yes, there was a blackout on phones in the area. The military would use satellite phones for their own needs but civilians were out of the communications loop.

Ed crouched at the tree line and stared across at the trailer. Meth labs had a certain smell about them but he could detect nothing from here. Stan's boots had that nasty smell from processing the chemicals to make meth, but maybe the lab wasn't running at the moment.

He took a few photos from this position but knew he had to get closer. If there was a processing crew where were they? He didn't see any tracks leading away from the clearing, and besides, the woods were pretty thick except around the gray box of the trailer.

A fool would walk straight across the clearing but Ed was no fool. He followed the trees around the clearing, stopping every now and then to listen. It was quiet, dead quiet up here, and that made him nervous. The curve of the clearing was now bringing him closer to the trailer. Ed squatted down and surveyed the area.

The grass beside the trailer was dead, probably where they had dumped some of the chemicals. He could almost smell something but perhaps he was imagining things. From here he had a view of the door leading into the trailer and he could see that the windows were boarded up on the inside.

How did they breathe in there when processing the stuff? The chemical mix was toxic as it flashed off in the processing. Most times they used toluene to reduce the mix and that stuff was flammable as hell. He snapped another picture and slowly stood up. He heard the crack of a rifle just as the bullet slammed into his shoulder and spun him around.

Ed fell face down and nearly blacked out from the pain in his left shoulder. He had fallen with his right hand underneath of him and he worked his fingers into the pouch at his waist. Don't move, he thought, that will only bring another bullet.

Someone must have seen him, but if they had gone for a kill shot the aim was piss poor. It was probably a man, and he hoped it was only one as his fingers closed around the grip of his pistol. He listened carefully and barely heard the crunch of footsteps in the grass.

"All right, fool…I know you ain't dead," a voice said. "I can see blood all over your shirt so at least I hit you…are you awake?"

Ed groaned and that was no act. His shoulder was on fire and if he remained like this he would bleed to death, he had to stop the blood flow. But first he had to stop the shooter…where was he? Then Ed felt the rifle barrel poke him in the back.

"Roll over ... you gonna bleed to death like that."

"You're gonna kill me anyways," Ed said, attempting to move his legs.

"Might ... might not. Don't know who you are and what you're doing out here," Leon said. "I'm allowed to shoot trespassers."

The man wanted him to roll over so he could get a clean shot in the head or the heart, Ed was sure of that. His left arm was useless but he had to roll that way to clear the pistol from his pouch. Okay, here comes the real pain, Ed thought.

He pushed with his right elbow but kept a tight grip on the pistol. He was hoping he didn't black out in the process of moving. He heard the man step back and Ed rolled over, bringing the pistol up and pulling the trigger when it was zeroed in on the man's torso.

The blast nearly knocked the gun out of his hand but he saw the black man drop the rifle and clutch at his stomach. Gut shot, a mighty painful wound Ed thought as he blacked out. He came to some minutes later and heard groans. The black man was on his back but still alive.

Ed had to treat his wound first and so he ripped at his shirt and stuffed a piece of it into the exit wound. He knew there was an entrance point on the back of his shoulder but he couldn't reach it. He tried to remove his shirt completely by ripping it the rest of the way off but it was hung up on his shoulders. The pain was coming in waves, threatening to knock him unconscious, he had to stay awake.

He saw the rifle lying on the ground only a few feet away so he crawled over to get it. Now the tables were turned as Ed pulled himself on his feet using the rifle as a crutch. He moved over and stood above the black man. The hole in the guy's stomach looked huge, he was going to die soon and from the look in his eyes he knew it.

"Name's Leon. Thought you might like to know who you killed. If I coulda seen better you might be the dead one."

Ed noticed the eye patch and realized Leon had missed because he had lousy depth perception.

"You work for the Sheriff?"

Leon gasped with the pain but he nodded. "Been up here a couple years. Do yourself a favor, don't light any matches around that trailer."

"You processed the meth for him," Ed said.

"Yup, me and Stan before that damn fool got hisself killed. Made thousands of ounces. That Sheriff be a rich man, he's selling those drugs through the Road Rats. I know because Stan told me…"

Leon groaned and Ed didn't think he had much longer to live. But the man struggled to reach in his pocket and Ed tensed up. Instead of a weapon Leon pulled out a brand new satellite phone and pushed it across the ground towards Ed.

"I don't know who you are but I'm gonna be gone soon. You save yourself, hear?"

"I'm a private investigator out to get Barnes and all this up here just might do it."

Leon tried to laugh and ended up gasping for air. He stared up at Ed and smiled. "You almost made it worth being shot. I'm gonna tell you something else. I have a camper up there in the woods and behind it is my latrine. Fifty feet west of the camper you'll find bodies buried in the ground. I think your Sheriff is responsible for that too and I hope you nail his ass…"

Leon stopped talking, shuddered and was dead. Ed looked down on the man and then at the phone. He almost toppled over as he stooped to pick up it up. Who could he call, certainly not 9-1-1, he didn't even know where the fuck he was. But Bill would know.

Ed hobbled over to a crate sitting beside the trailer and plopped down before dialing Bill's office number.

"Lemuel, Isakson, Greene and Metzger," Candice said when she answered the phone.

"Bill Metzger, please."

"Just one moment."

It was several moments during which Ed tried to figure out how to remove the rest of his shirt and succeeded. He almost dropped the phone in the process. He did manage to fold the shirt one handed and slide it over his shoulder, and then he leaned back against the trailer and felt the flow of blood across his back slow down to a trickle.

"Bill Metzger."

"Damn boy, wondered if you were there," Ed said. "Okay, I shot a deer out of season…but he shot back. I need your ass."

"Where are you?"

"Call up the GPS code I gave you for my Jeep and send an ambulance out here pronto. God, I hope they can find the place ... I've been shot."

"Jesus ... can you stay on the line?"

"No, this little phone doesn't have much of a battery. Do what you can, buddy. I still have a few hours before I bleed to death." Ed chuckled at his situation.

"Not funny ... let me call the state police, maybe they have a helicopter," Bill said.

"That's an idea and there is a good sized clearing next to this trailer. Oh yeah. I'm about three miles northwest of that GPS signal next to a gray trailer. We were right, by the way. Barnes was running a drug operation…but he's out of business now."

"Screw that, let me get you some help," Bill said.

"Please ... call me back in an hour," Ed said and hung up.

"Shit," Bill said and reached for his wallet.

Connors answered his cell phone on the third ring. "Sergeant Connors."

"Sergeant, I have an emergency for you and it involves Barnes," Bill said.

"I'm all ears."

Bill explained what Ed had been doing and that he had been shot. Connors jotted down the GPS coordinates and told Bill to wait a moment. Damn, Bill thought as Connors put him on hold.

So Barnes had been running a drug lab up on that property, score one for the home team. He didn't know what Ed had done and he certainly hoped it wasn't the Sheriff who had shot him. Bill switched views on his laptop and highlighted the code for the GPS they had planted on the pickup. It took a second but there was the red dot heading back to town on the Interstate.

"Bill, you there?" Connors asked.

"Yes ... what can we do?"

"I called the Colorado Springs barracks, they have a helicopter there. I gave them the coordinates and they'll be in the air shortly. It will take them about thirty or forty minutes to reach your buddy. That's the best we can do. At least they can fly him to the hospital.

"Look, I'm in Front River at the moment so I'm going to drive out there. It's only about thirty miles and I might get there before anyone else does if I hurry. Let me call you back when I roll out of here and we'll talk."

"Please," Bill said, and once again Connors hung up.

It was almost eleven-thirty…it had only been twenty minutes since Ed called. Bill dialed the satellite number on his caller ID. Two rings and Ed picked up.

"Hello, I hope you have good news."

"State Police helicopter is on the way and so is Sergeant Connors…I'm right behind them."

"Connors better call in his forensics boys, we have a dead body out here and a whole trailer full of dangerous chemicals. Barnes is up to his eyebrows in shit, Bill. The guy who shot me says there are bodies buried in the woods up here. We may uncover a whole new game to play."

"Let's worry about you first, I'm on my way," Bill said.

He left the office in a hurry, trying to keep calm and wondering how he might find the property without the aid of the GPS signal. But he had the map image in his head and Connors cell phone number, he would find a way. This would be worth at least two aces in his game with the DA's office, and that made him smile.

Bill was ten miles beyond Front River when his cell phone rang.

"Metzger."

"Bill this is Matt Connors." Oh, they were on a first name basis now. "The chopper picked up your buddy a few minutes ago and he's heading for the hospital in Colorado Springs. He was pretty loopy from the loss of blood but it looks like he'll survive."

"How badly was he shot?"

"Shoulder wound on the left side, large caliber rifle bullet. It may take him a while to get use of that arm back. He told me most everything before the chopper got here."

"You beat the helicopter?"

"Never doubt the ability of lights and sirens. I was probably doing a hundred at several points along the way. But when you get here look for my markers on the gate off the highway. You have got to see what we have up here. Oh, cellphones don't work up here due to the Air Force installation."

"Then how am I talking to you?" Bill asked.

"I have you patched through on my radio, but even that will cause a stink with the military. Their security people have buzzed the area twice in the past fifteen minutes. Let's just hope they don't go to Defcon Two because of this crap."

"You going to handle the crime scene?"

"Yeah, our boys are already on the way. Hurry up if you want a private show because this place will be jumping with people very soon."

"Be there in about thirty minutes," Bill said.

"You'll have to walk the last hundred yards or so, this is now an official crime scene."

"Thanks, Matt…I'm sure Ed owes you big time."

"He does but we'll talk about that later. Bye."

The gate on the side of the road was wrapped in crime scene tape, Bill couldn't have missed it. He drove on up the gravel roadway until he saw the State Police car blocking the way. Matt got out and pointed him off to the field beside the road. Ed's Jeep was already there and Bill parked beside it.

"Welcome to Sherriff Barnes' worst nightmare," Connors said.

He led Bill up the hill where a black van was already parked, but still a distance from the old gray trailer.

"Dangerous chemicals in there," Connors said. "The Hazmat team is on the way. But the county coroner just got here to examine the body over there."

"Whose body?" Bill asked, looking over at the form covered in a plastic sheet.

"Guy named Leon, Ed told me...told him a lot more besides. The guy had been Barnes' lab guy for about three years. He has a camper back up there in the woods and he told Ed that Barnes has bodies buried up in there."

"Oh Jeez, this is getting bigger all the time," Bill said.

"It seems Barnes dropped off some boxes in that trailer, but we haven't opened the door yet. Ed said if they were the boxes Barnes had in his garage then his fingerprints will be all over them. That's a slam dunk for the prosecution."

"It would be," Bill agreed.

"My Captain is getting together a warrant to arrest Barnes. Too bad it won't happen in time for the six o'clock news."

"Doesn't matter to me," Bill said. "I'm going to see Ed in the hospital, I owe him that much."

"This may not directly help the kid, Bill, but it sure will cast doubt on the killings they tried to pin on him. I wish him all the luck in the world."

Bill smiled. "I'll be sure and tell him you said so."

Matt Connors, tough cop with a soft heart, Bill thought. And then Matt sighed.

"This mess is gonna keep me up half the night."

"Biggest bust in the state for years ... you might be a lieutenant the next time I see you."

"Oh crap, don't wish that on me." But he was laughing now. "Give my regards to Ed. Tell him I rescued his Jeep which he seems so attached to. It will be safe here for now, I'll move it down to the barracks in Front River."

"I'll tell him," Bill said, and they shook hands yet again before Bill walked back to his car.

It was nearly three o'clock by the time Bill reached Memorial Hospital on the university campus in Colorado Springs. He pulled in the parking lot and sprinted for the emergency room doors.

Ed Avery had already been in surgery and the nurse at the desk in ICU was reluctant to admit him until he said he was the patient's lawyer. That always seemed to work and they forced Bill to don a hospital gown and mask before they let him in.

Ed looked like shit lying there, pale skin with tubes in his arm and a huge bandage on his left shoulder. A nurse was by his side and looked up when Bill stood outside the curtained area.

"Are you with the police?" she asked.

"Worse than that, I'm his lawyer," Bill said with a smile. "How is he doing?"

"He's sedated so you won't be able to talk to him now."

"I just wanted to make sure he survived."

She smiled at that. "He'll be fine. Took a lot of stitches to close him up but there was no real bone damage. The bullet didn't shatter anything…I've seen worse."

"When will he be awake?"

"Not until morning, I'm sure. He's going to be in a lot of pain for a few days, but with therapy he'll regain full use of that arm."

"Thank goodness," Bill said.

He found his way down to the lobby and the administrative office for the hospital. He explained to the clerk behind the counter that he was there to arrange billing for all of Ed Avery's medical care. He left his business card and told them to forward the bills to his office.

He was sure Tom Isakson would agree, Ed had been working on their behalf and they would have to cover all medical expenses, they had insurance for that. Then he drove out of the parking lot and down the road towards the Interstate. He chose the Academy Hotel close by the hospital with all the amenities he would ever need.

They had a room for two hundred bucks a night, but Bill didn't care. He checked in and went up to his room. He ordered room service and opened the mini-bar. He was sitting there with a scotch in hand dressed in a hotel bathrobe when his meal arrived. His suit and shirt had already gone down to the laundry and would be back in the morning.

Bill ate without much appetite and polished off a second drink of scotch. He was exhausted by the day's events and the tension he had been under all weekend. He nodded off in the chair and somewhere in the night he moved to the bed. Sleep was the only cure for what he had.

The maid from the laundry service awoke him at seven with a knock on the door and by eight o'clock Bill was on the road towards the hospital. A new nurse on the floor, the same chatter about being the lawyer, and Bill was standing in Ed's room in ICU.

Ed looked better, the color had returned to his face but he still appeared to be asleep. Bill sat down on a chair and watched the heart monitor with its mind numbing display rolling across the screen.

"Hey, buddy," Ed said. "Come here often?"

Bill smiled. "You almost died and it would have been my fault."

"I wouldn't have haunted you from beyond the grave. I walked into this all by myself."

"I spent yesterday afternoon with Matt Connors," Bill said.

Ed nodded, but even that small amount of movement made him wince. The pain medication was working but the muscles were still inflamed.

"Good man, Connors. He came flying up that hill like the Lone Ranger on a mission. He tried not to move me but he had a first aid kit and stopped the bleeding. Then out of nowhere this helicopter dropped in out of the sky with more troopers. It was all like a movie."

"Well they got you here in time, that's what counts," Bill said.

"The guy who shot me, Leon, he could have killed me but I don't think he wanted to. Too bad I didn't find that out until I shot back. He said a lot of things, Bill. If they can prove Barnes killed other people and buried them up there then he's facing the death penalty."

"I haven't heard when they plan to take him into custody."

"I've had the television on since I woke up this morning but I haven't seen anything on the news," Ed said.

"Someone is going to find out you were involved."

"Oh I expect that," Ed said. "Might be good for business."

"Look, I told the hospital to send the bill to me so don't you worry about any of this. All you have to do is get better."

"That's mighty kind of you. This will probably be rather expensive."

"That doesn't matter," Bill said. "The thing with Barnes will play itself out and then I'll need you to testify on Tim's behalf, if it gets to that."

"You think the DA will take a plea?" Ed asked.

"Just look at what we have, I'm sure they will. I think Barnes tampering with the evidence will dissuade a jury from the felony murder charges. Our claim that Stan killed Tim's mother is strong enough to cast doubt on the whole issue. Now before we get into all that I'll need your report and whatever the lab can give me on the drug and DNA tests."

"Good thing I'm right handed," Ed said. "I'll see if the hospital can rustle up a stenographer and dictate something tomorrow…at least that will give me something to do. But all my notes are in the Jeep…"

"Connors said to tell you they would secure the Jeep at the Front River barracks," Bill said.

"Good, I have a lot of valuable stuff in that thing."

"I have to get back to town and talk to Eli Parker," Bill said. "We're gonna need…"

But he stopped there as Ed held up his hand and pointed at the television. The picture on the screen was a shaky camera image of a crowd of reporters and a cluster of uniformed state police. In the middle was a shocked and bedraggled Sheriff Barnes in handcuffs being led to a patrol car.

The camera was jostled as the media tried to get a statement from the Sheriff but the troopers pushed them back as they stuffed Barnes into the backseat of the car. Beyond the crowd was a group of county deputies standing by the door to the sheriff's office. The cameraman noticed them too and zoomed in. There in the middle was Travis Marsh, the only one with a smile on his face.

"I'd give you a high five but then that would set off all the alarm bells they have me hooked up to," Ed said. "You've done a lot of good work, Bill. Now the fun begins."

"Speak for yourself," Bill said. "I still have Tim to worry about."

On to Chapter Ten

Back to Chapter Eight

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"Falling Down" © Chris James.
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