Wisdom Spring (3 page)

“You’re not scaring me. Frankly, I don’t think anything can ever scare me again.”

“Why is that?” she asked, and I realized she was trying to take the focus off herself.

I decided that the only way I was going to hear any more of her story was to tell her mine—create a bond of sorts. So I told her. I laid it all out. I told her of Karen getting diagnosed almost a year earlier, the strain it put on my marriage, the doctors, the tests, the sadness, the hope of the new drug, and finally, my injecting her. I shared my innermost thoughts and fears for the first time since Karen got sick, and it was with a total stranger. As I talked, I thought about my wife and how far away we had been from each other emotionally even before Karen’s cancer.

When I was done, Jess and I each had tears running down our face, and people from nearby booths were staring at us. It was time to go.

“So where are you heading, really?” I asked as we got into the car.

“I really don’t know,” she answered. “How about you?”

I had a choice to make. If I told her Alaska, she might want to accompany me the whole way, and I might decide in an hour that I was sick of her. I chose to cross that bridge when I got to it, so I told her. She made it easy on me.

“Can I go with you at least part of the way? And if you decide you’d rather be alone at any point, I’d understand if you wanted to drop me off. Preferably not on a deserted highway.” She smiled. I was beginning to like that smile. It was kind of crooked. One side of her mouth would raise a fraction higher than the other.

“Deal.” I said. “On the condition that you tell me what you’re running from, and more about The Voice.”

She was silent for a moment, and I could see her wheels turning. It seemed that whatever she was about to tell me would require trust, and she didn’t even know me. She finally made her decision.

“That’s fair,” she answered. “Just give me some time to work up the courage.”

I filled up with gas, and we got on the road. As we were leaving the truck stop, we passed a police cruiser. I watched Jess out of the corner of my eye and once again saw her shrink into the seat. I’d have to see if her story explained her actions.

We drove in silence for a while, which was okay with me. It gave me time to think. Although I had been doing nothing but think since the moment I left what used to be my home, all my thoughts had been dark, often bordering on the suicidal. For the first time, my interest was piqued, and while Karen would always be in my mind, she wasn’t the only thing in there.

I kept glancing at Jess, who was staring out the window, dwelling on her demons. At one point, the tears came again, and she quietly wiped them away. I sized her up as best I could. She was a professional woman of some sort—having been in sales, I could spot one a mile away—but she had a look that told me she would’ve been more comfortable working on a farm, or in a bookstore, or at just about anything other than corporate America. Time would prove me right or wrong when she decided to tell her story.

We were approaching the junction of Interstates 20 and 10 when she finally spoke. It was almost a whisper, with no preamble.

“I used to work for Massachusetts Senator Gary Hillstrom. Are you familiar with him?”

So I was right about her being a professional woman, but wrong about corporate America. Politics was close though.

“I am. I voted for him a few times.”

“So you’re from Massachusetts.” It wasn’t a question, but it seemed significant to her in some way. I could see the “ah ha” go off in her head.

I had always liked Hillstrom. He was originally elected as a Democrat, which is when I first voted for him. After a couple of terms he had become wildly popular, but he didn’t like the direction the party was headed, so he switched. When election time came he ran as a Republican and won by a landslide, which included my first non-Democratic Party vote ever. The Democrats didn’t know what hit them. A term later, he also became dismayed with the Republican Party, and in the next election, he ran as an Independent, once again blowing away the competition. While his constant change of parties gave him the label of a flip flopper among the most radical minority in each party, it didn’t affect his popularity. He had become quite powerful and had become a fixture in the news. More importantly, he was respected on both sides of the aisle and loved by his constituents.

“How long did you work for him?”

“I started about a year ago…”

“About when your “voice” started?”

“Yes, but at the time I didn’t really notice it. I just felt like my intuition was working extra hard. I had just been laid off from my job as a research librarian and someone suggested—although, for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you who it was—I apply to the senator as part of his research staff. I got the job. All too easy…” She wandered off and was again staring out the window.

I gave her some space. After all, we still had a long drive ahead of us. I could wait.

But I didn’t have to wait long. She was back.

“I’m starting to think…”

“That The Voice steered you toward the job?” I asked.

“Yes. I hadn’t really thought about it. I had just assumed it was a friend or colleague, but it wasn’t. But it doesn’t make sense.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “You’re questioning whether any of this makes sense.”

“The jury is still out. Why doesn’t this part make sense?”

“I guess it really does. Like I said, it seems The Voice had led me into a dangerous situation. But the thing is, over the last week, The Voice has saved my life a few times. Why would it put me there in the first place if it was just going to save my life?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there was something you were supposed to see or uncover?” I just threw it out there. I really had no idea. I was still trying to process it all.

“And I did. And it was big. And Hillstrom is at the center of it. Now my life is effectively over. Really over if they catch me. Because of me four people have lost their lives—good people. And everybody thinks I killed them. And now I’ve put you in the middle of it.”

“I’m sorry,” she added. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. If you want to let me off now, I’ll understand.”

Strangely enough, I didn’t.

All I said was, “So where does The Voice fit in now?”

“It’s behind everything. It’s the reason I left Washington, the reason I hit the road, and even the reason you picked me up. It’s leading me somewhere. I just don’t know where.”

Chapter 3

She was quiet again, obviously trying to decide how to proceed. This time I broke the silence.

“Before you go on, I’ve gotta ask, why did you tell the family in the car that you heard dead people? Especially since I assume you are trying to stay under the radar.”

Jess’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “They were annoying me. I felt like I had stepped into a revival meeting. They kept telling me that as a single girl hitchhiking, I was going to hell. All they talked about was Jesus, heaven, hell, and eternal damnation. Finally, I just blurted out, ‘I hear dead people.’ You’ve never seen a car stop so fast. I figured standing on the side of the road had to be better than that.”

She quickly turned serious again. “I say all that, but in reality, I think it was The Voice, and I was just repeating what it was telling me. I think I needed to be dropped off there in order for you to pick me up.”

“Do you always listen to The Voice?”

“I’m learning to. As I said, I’m alive because of it.”

“So what did you discover working for Hillstrom?” I asked. I was anxious to get to the meat of the story.

“Part of the problem is that I don’t really know. I don’t know any details. All I know that it involves conspiracies within conspiracies. The worst kind of corruption. Corruption that could have a lasting effect on this country. The scary part? I almost bought into it. In fact,” she looked away, “I did buy into it. That’s why I signed the death sentences of four really good people. You asked me if I always listened to The Voice. I didn’t that day and they are dead because of it.”

She took a breath and began. Her story was amazingly simple, and yet, the ramifications it could have on the country were anything but simple. Getting my head around it was going to take some time.

She started with a statement. “Senator Gary Hillstrom doesn’t exist.”

She hesitated before going on. I don’t think it was a dramatic pause—she didn’t seem the type—it was more like she thought I was going to laugh at her, like her “I hear dead people” comment. When she realized I was just listening, she continued.

“Gary Hillstrom isn’t his real name.”

“You mean he changed his name. That’s not really uncommon.”

“No, I mean his entire history—personal life, work history, everything—is made up.”

“Wait a minute.” Something wasn’t adding up for me. “He was a state senator before running for the U.S. Senate. I remember that much.”

“Right, he was,” she answered. “What was he before that?”

“I don’t know. I think he was in business or something.”

“No. Everything prior to his run for the state Senate is fabricated.”

“That’s pretty hard to believe. He’s running for public office. He can’t just make up a resume and hope no one notices. Even if he somehow made it through the process of becoming state senator, his opponent for the U.S. Senate would have scrutinized every aspect of his life. It couldn’t happen.”

I was beginning to doubt everything about her now.

“I know. It seems impossible. That’s why I didn’t believe it either. But humor me, because here’s the scary part: Let’s say his past was made up. What would it mean if the people digging into it uncovered nothing out of the ordinary?”

I had to think about that for a minute.

“It means you would have to have a hell of a lot of people in on the deception. It would be a conspiracy like no other. It would have to be planned years in advance.”

“It would, wouldn’t it.”

“And the cost of creating his ‘past’ would run well into the millions of dollars. Maybe tens of millions.”

“Yup.”

“What about his childhood? His school records?”

“Supposedly he went to some church school up through high school. The place burned down and all records were lost. And he didn’t go to college. That was part of his appeal—a politician who was really a common man.”

“So you’re saying this isn’t just some guy wanting to get elected and lying about his past. This is a massive conspiracy orchestrated by people with unlimited resources and a long-term goal. Didn’t I see that movie?”

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Maybe, but I wasn’t in it. I’m in this one and it’s very real.”

I was quiet for a few minutes while I chewed on it. Finally I asked, “So where does The Voice fit in?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. As overwhelming as all of this is—and I’ll go into more detail later about what I do know—that’s not the end of the story. There’s something much deeper to all this. I think that’s the reason I’m hearing The Voice. I think I’m supposed to find something, but I have no idea what.”

We stopped at a rest area. I needed to stretch my legs, but more than that, I needed to clear my head. It was a flat, prairie-like rest area with a few rocks, almost no trees, a small restroom building, and lots of open space. Jess went into the restroom while I walked. Eventually I saw her come out of the building and lean against my car, just watching me. I didn’t hurry. After about twenty minutes, I went in and relieved myself. When I came out, she was sitting on a bench in front of my car. I walked up to her.

“So are you saying that the police are looking for you?”

“Not just the police. Hillstrom’s men, too.”

Then I had a thought. “I have a vague memory of hearing a story a few days ago about a manhunt for the murderer of four political staffers. Is that you?”

“It is. They were each killed by a single shot to the head. They were executed.”

“Did they give your name on the news? I wasn’t really listening.”

“No. Not yet. I think they are trying to make it sound as if they don’t have a suspect yet. Maybe to lull me into false sense of security. But they know it’s me.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ll explain that soon. It’ll make more sense then. But I think Hillstrom is using his influence to keep my name out of it. I think he wants to get to me first.”

“Why? Do you have anything tangible they want? A CD or flash drive with damning evidence?”

“If I did, I would have already gone to the newspapers. No. I have nothing, which gives them time to find me. Without proof, I can’t go anywhere. Who’s going to believe me? I don’t even know if you do.”

And that was a good question. It was outlandish, to be sure. On the other hand, I didn’t get to the position I had in sales by misreading people. She wasn’t lying. The question was: Was she sane? Did it all happen the way she said, or did she just “believe” it happened? No, there was definitely sincerity coupled with sanity there. I believed her.

“Actually, I do, and that means you need some help. And since I have nothing to lose, it may as well be me that helps you. We have to do some planning and figure out the next steps. We’ll stop for lunch, drive a few more hours after that, then find a hotel for the night. Hopefully we can come up with a strategy.”

I looked over at her and saw misty eyes. “Thank you,” she said, softly putting her hand on mine. “I’m sure you still have some doubts, and hopefully I’ll be able to dispel them over time. But I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t believe me at least a little bit.”

We took the next exit and drove a couple of miles until we located a Burger King. Needing to stretch our legs, we opted to go inside. But the minute we walked through the door, Jess’s demeanor changed. She looked around nervously and made a beeline for the restroom, leaving me standing there without a clue as to what had just happened.

While nothing about my encounter with Jess could be considered normal, this seemed out of character for the woman I had gotten to know over the last few hours. I could tell it wasn’t just a case of an emergency bathroom run. This was something else. I quickly ordered a couple of burgers and fries, having no idea if it was what she might want, but feeling that it would be prudent not to wait for her before placing our order.