Authors: John D. Brown
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Kidnapping, #Organized Crime, #Vigilante Justice, #Military, #Spies & Politics, #Conspiracies, #Thrillers
“Sam!” Frank said.
Sam accelerated, then immediately braked—they were too far away.
The train engines lumbered across the road in a blast of noise. It stretched back up the valley for quite some distance.
Sam slowed and pulled up behind the tractor. It was a big green deal with an old man enclosed in a glass cab up on top. The old pickup pulled in behind Sam and Frank. It was followed by two other cars.
They were going to be here for a few minutes. Unless they turned around and tried to beat the train to Wyoming Road two miles back. Then they could scoot up around the golf course and join up with Highway 191 about a half a mile past this crossing.
“We’ve got to get around the golf course,” Frank said.
“I’m on it,” Sam said. He made a U-turn, then gunned it back the way they’d come. As they accelerated, a police cruiser coming toward the crossing crested the rise with its lights flashing. They sped past the cruiser, and Sam gave the minivan more juice. Off to their right the train moved along the tracks, but they easily pulled ahead.
Frank talked to the dispatcher. “Are you there?”
Silence.
“Hello?” He looked down, but somehow the call had been dropped.
Sam said, “Have you looped in the man?”
“The man?”
Sam pointed up. “The Man,” he said.
“The Man’s out today.”
“He’s always in.”
“Then he’s putting me on voicemail. It appears I’m just not your big hallelujah prayer type, Sam.”
“I’ll say it.”
“Don’t you need to watch the road?”
“Fold your arms.”
“I’m sure the Lord’s apprised of the situation.”
“Of course, he is,” Sam said. “But it’s our job to ask. You don’t know what he might do, unless you ask.”
“Sam,” Frank said. “Focus on the train.”
“You want God working with you on this problem, or do you want to go it alone?”
Frank looked at Sam. “You’re Conroy all over again.”
“Conroy?”
“Sergeant Conroy. Our 18C.”
“You doing that military talk thing?”
“18C. Engineer. Builds things, blows them up. Conroy was our all-around Jesus freak. We couldn’t fill the latrine bag without him saying a prayer.”
“I’m sure you exaggerate.”
Frank shook his head. But maybe the Mormon man had a special line. “You got any sacrificial mice?”
“What?”
“Never mind. Say your prayer, but make it quick.”
Sam didn’t close his eyes, just spoke out at the road. “Father, as thou knowest, Tony needs thy help. We’re on the job. If there’s anything we aren’t thinking of, let us know. If thou art willing, help the cops. Help that woman be calm and see things straight. And if there’s anything else thou thinkest might shut this thing down—a blown tire, a deer on the road, we would be grateful. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Frank blinked. “I couldn’t tell for sure with all that Shakespeare, but did you just pray for road kill?”
“I prayed for creative options.”
“Like road kill. With antlers crashing through the windshield.”
“It could slow them down.”
“Let’s hope God doesn’t go big and send an elk or some stray cow. You ever see a car slam into three-quarter’s ton of beef?”
Up ahead a well-used pickup with a tool box in the bed was making a left hand turn, pulling into their lane. Sam moved into the left lane and shot past the pickup. “Go big or go home is what I say.”
“Yeah, go home in a body bag,” Frank said. But who knew? Maybe road kill miracles
were
on God’s order menu. It wouldn’t be any weirder than some of the things recorded in the Bible. The term “holy cow” suddenly popped into Frank’s mind and took on whole new dimension.
They covered the two plus miles back to Wyoming road in less than two minutes, turned off, and crossed the tracks. The train was still way back on the line. They raced along the two-lane road, looped a mile or so past the developments of North Rock Springs on the left and the golf course on the right. Sam braked and accelerated to get around a couple of cars, but then they came to the cutoff and raced back toward Highway 191.
The racing around had cost them about five minutes, and the train wasn’t as long as Frank had first thought. By the time they got back to 191, all the cars they’d been waiting with had already passed.
“Shoot,” Sam cursed.
“We can still hope for the divine road kill,” Frank said.
Sam turned onto the highway and sped up. The road ran straight and flat for a number of miles. Up ahead the big green tractor they’d been in line with moseyed along. About a mile beyond the tractor, the police cruiser was pulled off to the side of the road, its lights flashing.
In front of it was the Nova.
Sam passed the tractor. The officer was standing by the Nova calling something in on his radio. Sam slowed then pulled over a few car lengths in front of both cars.
Frank threw open the door and stepped out onto the shoulder of the road. “Officer,” Frank called. “I’m Frank Shaw. I’m the one that called this in. Is Tony all right?”
The officer put a hand out telling him to keep his distance for a bit. “Who did you say you were?”
“I’m Frank Shaw. That’s my car. Is Tony in your cruiser?”
“Sir, there was nobody in this car when I found it.”
Frank blinked. Nobody in the car? He scanned the dry land stretching out all around. There was nothing but small clumps of dry weeds and dirt. The wind buffeted the minivan. Frank approached the Nova. “Did you see the Nissan?”
“There was nobody here,” the officer said.
Frank walked up to the driver’s side. The keys were still in the car. What did they do, force Tony out at gun point?
“I turned the keys on,” the officer said. “The gas gauge reads empty.”
The words hit Frank like an anvil. He closed his eyes and rocked back a bit. Empty. Tony had run out of gas. And Ed and Jesus had been right there to pick both of them up.
“There are some ravines and hillocks, but it’s pretty flat out here,” the officer said. “Someone on foot isn’t going to get far. I’ve called in backup.”
“They’re not here,” Frank said.
“Where do you think they are?”
Frank’s phone rang. The display said it was Tony calling. Frank flipped it open and brought it up to his ear. “Tony,” he said.
“Tony’s doing fine,” Ed said, all happiness and slime. “A real hero. But here’s the deal, Jockstrap. You send the cops after us, and he’s going down. Lots of empty hilly space around here. Lots of roads to nowhere. You understand me?”
Frank looked at Sam. So much for prayer.
Frank watched the officer walk back to his cruiser. “Put Tony out of the car now.”
“Naw, I don’t think so. And it’s not me, Frankie. See, Jesus is not too keen on going back to jail. You send a bunch of Dudley douche bags after him, and he’s going to be pissed. He’s going to want to take it out on someone. So here’s what’s going to happen, Frank. You’re going to sit tight. In a day or two, we’ll give you a call. Tell you where you can find your boy. By then we’ll be long gone. Tony will be just fine. In fact, he’ll have just the thing to write about when his teacher asks for a paper on his awesome summer vacation.”
He wouldn’t be fine. Ed might be thinking about keeping Tony alive, but he’d also be thinking other things. Furthermore, situations like this tended to go south real quick. Especially if Tony, Mr. White Hat, gave them any idea that he just might go to the authorities once they let him out.
“Here’s something else to think about,” Ed said. “A little bit more motivation to keep your end of the deal. Your sister Kim is a good-looking woman, Frank. I remember the pictures. I know where Kim lives. I was hoping to meet her some day. The interesting thing—Jesus has some associates who live rather close to her. In fact, he’s calling them now. If the cops come after us, well, I’m just saying.”
“Ed, you don’t want to go there.”
“We don’t have to go there. That’s the beauty of the whole thing. I’m not out to get you, Frank. You’d do the same if you were in my situation. It’s just a little insurance to keep Jesus from getting twitchy.”
Ed had always taken too much interest in Frank’s affairs. Frank thought of the family photos sent to him while in prison. Photos of Kim and Tony. He thought of Tony’s letters. And Ed had always been right there.
Ed said, “You can call the dogs off now, or you can call them off later. Either way you’re going to have to make up a story, say you were mistaken. But if you do it now, there’s less chance that two fine folks will get hurt.”
Frank should have disarmed Ed back in the house and taken his chances then. He’d been playing it safe, playing defense. But you couldn’t do things like that with guys like Ed. Frank had no doubt Ed knew where Kim lived. If he’d been able to ferret out Frank’s unlisted location, he’d been able to ferret out hers. Frank had no doubt Jesus had people who would take her. And if they took her, there was no guarantee she’d come back. It’s one thing to kidnap an illegal who the government doesn’t know about and who wants to fly under the radar. You could let them go and trust they wouldn’t go to the authorities. Kidnap someone else, and things became a lot trickier.
But it wasn’t going to get to that. Not even close. Ed had picked the wrong man to mess with.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Ed. You’re going to put Tony on the phone every hour on the hour. Each time you do, that will buy you one more hour of time that I don’t go to the police. You miss, then you’ve got the police, the FBI, the DEA, whoever I can round up. And you’ll have me. Because I kept tabs on my cellies as well.”
“No can do. Parts of Wyoming don’t have cell service. We’ll call tonight around five, right around dinner time.”
“Every hour, Ed, starting right now. Put him on.”
“Big brother wants to talk,” Ed said like he’d turned his head away from the phone. “And just so you don’t get clever, I’ve got you on speaker.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Tony came on. “Frank.”
“You injured?”
“No, I’m good.”
“If Ed or that twelver he’s with touches you, they’ll answer to me. You got that?”
“Yeah,” Tony said.
Ed came back on loud and clear. “See? He’s still breathing. We’ll talk again at five. You sic someone on us, someone close to you goes down. It’s a simple transaction, Frank. Now, I’m missing the fine sights of this scenic sagebrush highway.”
The called ended with a double tone.
There was a moron at Tony’s high school who liked to harass Tony and his friends. He’d gotten a twelve on his ACT, and he’d been trying. Tony and his buds had used that to coin the term twelver. But it meant more than “stupid bully.” Tony and his dweebish friends had hacked into the twelver’s phone. Then his school login. Then his home. Every time he caused them trouble, he got a little anonymous love back.
Ed and Jesus were about to learn that principle. But it wasn’t going to be anonymous. Not by a long shot.
The officer retrieved something from his car and began to walk back. Frank shook his head, spread his arms like he was embarrassed all to heck. “Officer, oh man,” he said with regret, “I’m afraid I put everyone through a fire drill. I’m so sorry.”
The officer tilted his head, waited.
“I just got a call from Tony. It’s all a dumb teenage gag. On me. L-O-L.”
“You know we have to follow up.”
“I know, I know,” Frank said. “I just feel so stupid. We had a talk about abductions last night. Tony was rolling his eyes the whole time. I guess he thought it would be funny to give me a heart attack.”
Frank shook his head, tried to play the part. The officer nodded, but Frank didn’t know if he bought it or not.
The officer said, “Let’s push this car off the road. You have a gas can?”
“I’ll get one. We’ll be back in a minute, and I’ll get it out of here.”
The officer nodded. “You sure he’s okay?”
Frank waved his concern away. “Yes. In fact, I’m going to bring the little jerk in to the station, if that’s okay. I think it would do him good to sweat a bit.”
The officer cracked a smiled. “We can do that.”
Sam got out of the minivan, and the three of them pushed the Nova well off the road. The officer went back to his cruiser and picked up his radio. Sam and Frank got back into the Mazda.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked.
“Just go back and pull into the first gas station you see.”
Sam started the Mazda, put it in gear, and made a U-turn onto the highway. They headed south. Frank waved at the officer as they passed.
“So it was all a joke?”
“It was no joke, Sam.”
“But you sent the cop away.”
“I keep the cops out, and Ed promises not to hurt Tony, and to keep his hands off my sister.”
“You sure this isn’t a bluff?”
“You know that good little man that sits inside your soul, prompting you to do what’s right? Ed killed his off a long time ago. Then he pickled his eyes and put them in a jar on his shelf. Ed looks like a human being, but he’s one of those pod people. He’d take my sister, your sister, your dog. He’d take his own children, if he’s spawned any, and cut them up into pieces. He’d do whatever it took. Because to him and his kind, humans are ants.”
“So we’re going to just sit tight?”
“I figure we have forty-eight hours. We don’t get to Tony by then, we might not ever get him back.”
5
Killer App
FRANK PULLED OUT his phone and looked at the time. 2:33 p.m. He dialed Kim. It rang five times and went to voicemail. “Doesn’t anybody answer their phones anymore?” he asked.
“Text her,” Sam said. “She’s probably in a meeting.”
Frank opened a message, punched in “call me asap!” and sent the text. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Tony had begged to come up and visit Frank. Kim had finally relented, issuing all sorts of rules and regulations to go along with it. Now he’d let her down, and put the creature called Ed Meese on her trail.
Good night
! What a mess.
They sped back across the railroad crossing, back past the Highway Patrol station, back the two plus miles to the outskirts of town. Sam pulled into the first gas station they saw. Frank ran in and purchased a red two gallon plastic gas can. Then he went out, placed it on the cement in front of a pump, and started to fill it.
The officer at the scene passed the station. Frank waved all happy like. He topped the can off and screwed on the lid. He was now down to just a few bucks in his wallet. He checked his phone, but Kim had not texted him back.
Frank got back into the minivan with his gas can, and Sam drove him back up to the car. Frank poured the gas in. Just as he was screwing the lid back on, his phone rang. It was Kim.
He put as much go-lucky-calm-so-good-to-hear-you in his voice that it sounded like he might be in Disneyland. “Miss Black,” he said. “How’s the chief tooth fairy today?” Kim was the top dog dental hygienist at an office in North Hollywood.
“Fine, Frank,” she said with noise in the background. “I just finished a cleaning; we’re headed to lunch.”
“Late lunch,” he said.
“But worth it,” she said. “We’re going to this amazing new bistro. So what’s the emergency? Tony isn’t into any trouble, is he?”
“Naw,” Frank said. The fact was that Kim didn’t need to know just yet what was going on. She’d stress nigh unto death. She’d call the cops. What mother wouldn’t? But Frank was fairly confident he could wrap this up in the next three or four hours. “There are some guys in the neighborhood who invited him over this evening. I just wanted to keep tabs on him. You said you had this way to track his phone?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s this great little killer app.”
“How can I get that setup on my phone?”
“No setup necessary. You just go to a website and use my login and password.”
“You trust me with the keys to the kingdom?”
“No, I don’t. But I’m hoping you prove me wrong.”
“Can I make his phone ring?”
“Yes.”
“Can I make the phone take pictures?”
“No, we didn’t get that. By the way, my phone’s on it too. Don’t get any funny ideas. I don’t need my phone ringing in the middle of a cleaning.”
“I won’t mess with your phone,” he said. “At least not right off.”
She groaned. “Why do I always ignore my better judgment?”
“Let me get myself something to write with,” Frank said. He climbed into the Nova and opened the dash compartment. He fetched out a pen and the envelope with the receipt of his last Big-O Tire purchase in it. He put his phone on speaker. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Kim gave him the website and login information. Frank told her to hold on as he tested it. He logged into the website, saw a button labeled “Phone,” another labeled “iPad,” and one more that said “Nurse Ratchet.”
“I’m guessing you’re Nurse Ratchet,” he said.
“You like that? How about you help him come up with a different nickname? Something like Saint Kim for putting up with both you and him.”
“I’ll do my best,” Frank said. There were little dots next to each button. The two for the phone and Nurse Ratchet were green. Underneath it said they’d been found. The dot for the iPad was red. Apparently, the app couldn’t find a device that was off, which made sense. He tapped the button for phone. A moment later a Google street map opened on the phone’s screen that showed an area north of Rock Springs. A little round pink push pin said, “Tony’s Phone.” The pin marked a position about fifteen miles north on 191, heading in the direction of Farson.
Ha! Got you, Ed.
“Slick,” Frank said.
“We should actually put you on the account,” she said. “I’ll get that other app for you. It will not only tell me where you are, but will show me what’s on your screen, log your calls. Heck it will even silently take a picture when the phone’s open so you can see who is using it. It’s all very Big Brother.”
Frank thought about that feature. Recordings of Ed’s face and calls would make a huge splash with the prosecution. “And you didn’t load that on Tony’s phone?”
“Are you kidding? Spy on Tony? He’d figure it out in a minute and then reroute it so I was always looking at someone on their phone in Bangladesh.”
“Too bad,” Frank said.
“You know, I was a bit hesitant to let him go visit. But he says he sure is enjoying himself. Don’t let him down.”
Yeah, Frank thought. He said, “Kim, you’re talking to Frank version 3.0. I’m not going back. That life is over. I’m the picture of the model citizen.”
“Hey,” she said like she was admitting a mistake, “a mother worries.”
Frank paused. He figured he’d better give her the other part of this straight. “On an unrelated topic, I don’t want you to worry. But I have reason to believe one of my cell mates, who is now out, has your address.”
“Why would he have my address?”
“Because he’s a freak.”
“I delisted my information when you went in.”
“I know. I don’t think anything’s going to happen. I just want to remind you that you need to be living in yellow. None of that oblivious white crap.”
“I live in L.A. I’m always in condition yellow.”
“Okay, just stay that way.”
“What’s going on, Frank?”
“Just keeping you safe.”
There was a pause, then, “Prison’s going to be with you a long time, isn’t it?”
“It’s not something you forget.”
“It’s not the same outside. Not everyone has got a shank in his pocket.”
“But some do, Sis. Some do. And you don’t want to be the one in one hundred.”
“I won’t be, Frank.”
“One of these days you need to get out of California so you can carry.”
He heard people in the background on her end.
“I’m not weaponless,” she said. “And now we’re about to go in and face some awesome roast beef. I’ll make sure we clear the room of hostiles before we sit down to eat. I’ll call you later.”
“Be safe,” he said and ended the call. Then he brought the phone tracking site back up and refreshed it. Tony’s marker had moved farther north.
Sam walked over and looked down at the phone. “What’s next, Chief?”
Frank looked up at him. “You go back to work, Sam. You’ve been a big help. But you don’t want to be involved in this.”
“I’m already involved.”
“This is not your thing, Sam.”
“You can drive off, but I’ll just follow you. My Mazda will kick that Nova’s butt any day. And you’ve seen my mad driving skills.”
“No,” Frank said.
“Sorry, dude. You don’t have a choice.”
“Sam—”
“Frank, your nephew has been kidnapped. Nobody comes into my neighborhood and does that. Not to my friends. Not to my neighbors. Not to anybody.”
Frank nodded. “So now you’re going to go all Tonto?”
“Actually, I’m the one driving. You’re the one riding shotgun. So if anyone’s going to be Tonto, it’s you.”
“Right, and what about your work?”
Sam blinked, then looked like his intelligence had just been insulted. “Work? Hello, your nephew? Maybe we should go after him.”
Despite his happy chubby bear demeanor, it appeared Sam was not one of those guys who would look the other way. “Okay then. Let’s park this. They won’t recognize the Mazda, and, despite the unicorns, you’re correct—it’s going to be faster than the Nova.”
“Of course, it is. It’s like the family version of the Bat Mobile.”
“Right,” Frank said. “And it comes with weapons too. We can pelt our foes with that nuclear Bat Diaper I saw rolling around in the back.”
* * *
Frank and Sam rolled north on 191. Then they turned west and rose up out of the valley over the western ridge and headed north-northwest. All about them, for miles and miles, was stubby, gray, water-starved sagebrush. The landscape was napped with it. Not a single tree to break the view. No houses, no barns, no telephone poles, nothing but a barbed wire fence running a number of yards off on each side of the road, looking much too puny to contain so much land. Every now and again an anemic dirt road would run off the highway, across a cattle guard or through a closed barbed-wire fence, and disappear in the distance.
A dead and broken deer lay off the shoulder of the road. A mob of crows pecked at the carcass, pulling bits off as a snack.
“Road kill,” Frank said.
“Too old,” Sam replied.
Frank tried to refresh the tracking page. The display showed the working circle. The last position of the pin showed Tony was stopped a few miles ahead, probably about halfway between Rock Springs and Eden. He’d been at that location for some time.
Sam raced along the highway. When they were about to the spot, Frank told him to slow down. Sam did, but the Nissan was nowhere to be seen.
A knot of worry began to churn in Frank’s gut. He looked down at the tracker, looked back out at the barren land. The tracker said Tony should be right on the road.
Sam pulled the van over to the shoulder. “Maybe it’s off a little,” Sam said. “I have a buddy who had a GPS once that was always taking him miles from his destination.”
“How’s it going to get mixed up?” Frank asked. “There’s only one road.” The sagebrush was scrubby, but it was tall enough that if you dragged a body a hundred yards off the road, well away from the fence, nobody would find it. Nobody but the ants, the buzzards and crows, and the windy Wyoming sun. A body could disappear out there for years, until it was nothing but a few weeds growing up between bleached and dried ribs. Frank had run across enough partial skeletons of deer and cattle on his long jogs to know that.
Frank’s worry began to rise.
“You want to get out and look around?”
“Go another hundred yards,” Frank said, “and then we’ll turn around.”
What was he going to tell Kim? This just couldn’t be happening. A small white rage began to build in him.
Sam moved forward slowly. Frank looked down at the tracker, trying to refresh it. The page hung and hung. Then his connection dropped. He had no signal.
“Sam, you have cell service?”
Sam pulled out his phone, opened it up. “Nothing.”
Relief washed through Frank. It blew a huge hole in the dark mountain of despair that had been poised to crush him. “This was his last known position. All this time the stupid connection was trying to update.”
“You want to search one of those side roads?”
“No,” Frank said. “Just get on down the highway.”
Sam looked up at the ceiling of the van. “Lord,” he said.
Frank couldn’t tell if he was stating a request, gratitude, or giving a status update.
Sam pulled back onto the road and accelerated to about eighty. A few miles farther they met and passed a pickup pulling a horse trailer coming the other way. A few miles past that Frank got service again. He logged back into the tracking webpage, clicked on Tony’s phone, and opened the map. Tony was up ahead about eight miles, moving on one of the streets in the town of Eden.
And that’s where this would end. When Tony was safe, Ed was going to learn the meaning of tragic miscalculation.