I zipped up and down the aisles throwing all kinds of healthy goodies into the cart. Jake‒I meant Jackie just shook her head in amazement as they weren’t the typical snacks and junk food that most teens hungered for. Fruit and veggies, beef jerky, yogurt and healthy stuff along with real eggs, bacon and sausage.
To my utter disgust, several older ladies told Jackie that I was such a pretty little girl. That made me want to barf and throw tomatoes at them. Jackie said thanks in a voice one octave above male and patted me on the head. I swatted at him which drew a tut of disapproval from the old lady.
Standing in line, I picked up the gossip rags‒Enquirer, Daily Globe and the other crap. The latest scandal on the front cover was about a supposed fight between the two English Princesses. We weren’t on the front or back cover, just a small blurb on the third page about the hunt for John Doe. There was a picture of me‒one of those from the hospital after the bus accident. It was so bad that I could have been anyone from a black kid to an Asian. I didn’t even recognize myself.
“Gawd,” I drawled. “That’s awful.”
“Here. Let me see that,” he said in his normal voice. I kicked him. He squeaked, reading the short blurb but all it mentioned was that the FBI and cops had no leads.
I started unloading the cart onto the belt and the cashier scanned the items. She acted totally bored, didn’t even look at me or Jake. I meant Jackie. I guess the locals were used to tourists spending beaucoup bucks stocking up their pantries. The total came to $346. Mainly because I had ordered extras like frozen pizza, bagels and every fruit and vegetable in the market. Along with a dozen different kinds of cheeses. I loved cheese. Not American, that was like plastic.
Something they did there that I had never seen before, the bagger put dry ice in the sacks with the frozen foods. I commented that it was already cold enough to freeze outside. The pimply faced kid shrugged.
“Keeps the ice cream from melting,” he said. “You need help loading your groceries, ma’am?”
Jackie simpered. “Thanks, but I can handle it. Is there a Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks around here?”
“Up on Highline Drive, near the Courthouse. That’s the closest one.”
“Thanks,” Jake said as he helped sack the whole mess. The kid didn’t come out with us but called another teenager who pushed both carts out to our SUV. He chattered away non-stop, not caring that neither of us talked back. Loading up the back of the car took him less than five minutes and he refused to take a tip for his service.
I rooted around in the bags, dragging out a banana, oranges, cup of yogurt and a box of plastic spoons. Sitting back in the middle seat, I ate my way through the goodies.
“There’s a Dunkin near the Courthouse,” Jake said pulling off his wig.
“Ice coffees?”
“I’d like one, too,” I added licking the spoon. “We gonna eat before we head home?”
“You want to catch a movie while we’re here?” Matt asked.
“Naw. Our food won’t keep. Besides, we can take out DVDs and watch them on the portable player. It runs on batteries. I saw it in the bookshelf.”
“Jake?”
“Sounds good. A couple from the Redbox?”
“You’ll have to return them the next day,” I added. “Unless you buy them outright. I saw a box in front of the Walmart.”
I picked out three movies that I hadn’t seen before. There were a lot of movies I hadn’t seen. Years’ worth. They liked the same kind that I did ̶ action thrillers, superheroes, and sci-fi. I held the discs as Matt went in search of the coffee place.
The courthouse was big. White marble and designed like a Greek palace. Cop cars were parked in the lot next to fancy Mercedes, Escalades and Porches. Figured that they were the lawyers’ rides.
We waited in the SUV as Jake went inside to order three ice coffees. He almost forgot his wig. While he was gone, I told Matt what I’d seen in the paper about us. He shrugged and said the case was probably on the back burner in lieu of the recent crisis of school shootings.
Even so, every time that a cop walked by, I was scared that they were going to recognize me or Matt. Or look at Jake and decide to pull him over for impersonating an ugly woman. Or a man dressing like a woman. Although I was pretty sure that wasn’t illegal nowadays.
Luckily, that didn’t happen. He came back to the car with three drinks in a paper cup carrier that didn’t balance very well with three. There was a few times it looked as if he would spill or drop them, but he made it to the Jeep without doing either. He also had a sack filled with donuts.
We sat, drank and ate until everything was gone. Matt took us out to eat later at a Chinese buffet before he called it a day and headed back to the cabin.
I fell asleep on the way home. Didn’t wake up until he stopped the SUV in the driveway in front of the porch. He left the headlights on and the engine running as he woke me up, got me unbuckled and steered me in the right direction. He told me to go to bed over my tired protests that I should help with the groceries. He said that they could do it without my help and it would keep until the morning.
“No,” I protested. “Mr. Cussler said not to leave food out. Bears can smell it for miles. They’re strong enough to rip the doors off the car or break the windows to get in.” I pointed to the bars on the cabin. “They tore off the door. You want to come out here, find the car destroyed and all our food gone?”
He nodded, and we unloaded the bags and boxes, putting everything away in the pantry or cold box. Nothing was left out. By the time everything was put up, all three of us hit the bed and were gone in minutes. I didn’t even hear him say good night.
In the morning, it was the heavy pounding on the door that woke us. I was the first one out of bed, stumbling down the spiral stairs in my underwear and to the front door.
Common sense told me not to open it until I was sure who was standing on the other side. I peeked out the side window and saw Mr. Cussler standing there. He was clearly agitated. I swung the door open just as he started to pound again. His fist stopped in mid-stroke, his reflexes uncannily fast.
“Christopher,” he said. He looked very upset.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Cussler?”
He came in and pulled the metal gate shut, his hand on his pistol. Looked around as if he was expecting to see bad dudes.
“What’s going on, Pepper? Cris?” Matt stood at the top of the staircase still in his long underwear and barefoot.
“Mr. Levinger was found dead in his office this morning,” Cussler said flatly. “Tortured and shot.”
“What?” Matt screamed and ran down the wooden treads. “What about Lynne and the kids? Tell me what happened?”
They moved into the kitchen where Mr. Cussler started the coffee machine. He made three cups, but I took out the bottle of chocolate milk and drank out of the container. No one said anything.
“He sent me a text last night, warning me to keep an eye on you all. He was working late, something about a lead on an escaped suspect, a murder in the Hamptons. He asked me to call later after the CI left. I did, and it just rolled over to his voice mail. This morning, Mrs. Levinger called and told me that he had never come home. The police found him in the office, tortured and shot in the head. Whoever did it searched his office, his files and took his computer. The files relating to his work on the John Doe Trust were missing.” He looked at me and then at Matt. “You’re his brother-in-law, Detective Eachann and he’s John Doe, aka Cris Snow. I know that Jason sent you all here to get out of the public eye.”
“Then you know we’re not suspects in any murders,” Matt said flatly. “Are my sister and her kids in protective custody? Where is she?” Matt demanded.
“I don’t know. The police won’t tell my contact and they don’t know about me. Mr. Levinger kept all mention and paper trail on me and this place secret. Under an offshore LLC. He told me once that not even an FBI financial crimes expert could connect him to this.”
“We should leave, just in case he told someone,” Matt murmured. “Jake!”
“I’m here,” he said quietly standing in the doorway. He was dressed in heavy brown duck overalls, flannel shirt and boots. His long underwear peeked out of the neck and cuffs.
“My brother-in-law,” Matt started and choked up. Jake interrupted.
“I heard. What do you want to do, Matt? You think Tempe did it and got the information out of Jason where we are?”
“Jason’s tough as nails,” Matt said. “But if someone threatened Lynne or the kids ̶”
“There’s an old cabin, a shack, really up the mountain about a day’s hike from here,” Pepper said slowly. “It’s primitive. If you were outdoorsmen, campers or hunters, it would be the place to hide out. Rough and hard on you, but a knowing man could survive. You’d see someone coming for miles before they got near enough to see you.
“But, you’re city folk. You’d die out there.”
I shook my head. “No. We’re not. I have extensive camping experience in the woods, mountains and swamps. I’ve camped and hunted on my own since I was five-years-old. Matt and Jake, too. In their past lives.”
That statement hung out there like a pink and purple neon sign. I could see that he didn’t believe me or know what to say.
“I can prove it,” I said suddenly. “I was once here in this forest when I was a boy named Todd Danvers. He was murdered and buried near the town of Rico. I can show you the exact spot.”
He stared at me as if I were crazy. They all did. Matt shook his head. “No, Cris. That’s not something that you should have to relive. Find something else.”
“No,” Pepper said. “I’ve heard about the boy, he disappeared in the eighties. We knew that he was dead, but we never found his body. Tell me where and I’ll find him. He was my cousin.”
“Oh God,” I whispered. “I’m sorry but I don’t remember you.”
“You wouldn’t have. I wasn’t born yet. Only a year after the boy was gone did I come along. That’s one of the reasons I became a tracker and Search and Rescue agent. I work with the Sheriff’s Department and the Forest Service.”
I told him where to find the bones and he was certain that he could find the spot. He offered to take us to the old shack, but we said we would just need a map.
“You’ll never find it without help.” He shook his head. “I have to scout around before I’m certain where it is. I can take you up, get you settled in and bring your supplies. By different routes so that no one can track you.”
“If it is Tempe, he can track a fish upstream,” I said. “He’s almost as good as me.” He laughed. “I’m not joking,” I said sharply. “I was taught by an Arapaho Squaw named Rain Falling on Rocks. She was stolen from her tribe and given to the Ojibwa where I was taken as a slave. I was then stolen by French fur traders and they raped and killed Rain.”
I heard a phone ringing. Loud, obnoxious like an old-fashioned landline. Pepper said that it was the SAT phone and went looking for it. He found it in the closet with the two-way radios and checked out the number before he opened it.
“It’s a text from Jason,” he said. “Sent at 9:35 pm, the night of his murder.”
“What’s it say?” Matt asked moving closer as if he were going to snatch the cell away from Pepper.
“RUN! John 11:11. That’s all,” he returned. Both he and Matt recited the quote from the bible about Jesus going to raise Lazarus from the dead. I knew it, but it would not be one of those things my father could have known. Still, with today’s Smartphones and the Internet, it wouldn’t take more than a few seconds to unmask its meaning. Matt’s brother-in-law had sent us the news that Tempe had risen from the dead.
As we watched, another text came in and that one made my heart shudder. It was from Jonas Sanderson and he was telling us the same thing, only in more explicit terms. He knew about Jonas and Jane. And he had a partner.
Neige murdered 4 people. Has your location. Knows about us. Jane and I headed ur way. Meet at the rndvz. Harris.
“Who’s Harris?” Pepper asked.
“Sheriff Harris. He rescued Crispin from the Frenchmen,” I answered. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what and where was the rendezvous? As far as I could think, I’d never been west of the fort of St. Louie when I had known Sheriff Harris.
“It’s safe to assume that this Neige knows where you-all are. We have a day at the most to get you-all out of sight unless he takes a plane,” Pepper said. He started to pack up our things in the backpacks we had brought with us, telling us what to grab. In an hour, he had a pile of stuff we needed on us and another larger pile he could cache and bring later. Most of the fresh food he left, taking the frozen and cans. I snagged the cheese in my pocket.
He called someone on his own cell phone and asked that person to bring four riding horses and two pack animals. As soon as possible. I heard a woman’s voice that made something in my stomach curl in…uneasiness.
They promised they would be there in an hour and sure enough, fifty-five minutes later, a big eight horse slant aluminum trailer pulled by a big beige Dodge dually drove onto the grass in front of the cabin. A tall, older woman with long braided brown hair and eyes exited and came up to the porch. She was older than Pepper, but looked a lot like him. Yet she was not his mother.
“My Aunt Debbie,” he said, and the name made me back up in shock. I sat down on the porch, light-headed, my hands at my throat as a god-awful pain ripped across it. Liquid covered my chest and I passed out to their cries of alarm.