“Carl, I’m only reiterating what I’ve heard. More and more members of the scientific community are beginning to ascertain just that. The Objects have not only changed trajectory twice so far, but their speed is no longer constant. What do you think that means?” Bill McReary asked.
“They did move close enough to Saturn to be affected by the gravitational pull of that planet, not to mention the smaller forces of the moons,” Carl told him.
“You’re both crazy. How in God’s green Earth do we even know they are real? Have you seen the things people are doing with CGI these days? This is another conspiracy to distract us from what’s really going on down here,” a different man said.
“And what’s that, anonymous caller?” Bill asked with a snicker.
“Our guns. The government wants our guns, and if you ask the right people, they’re after our firstborns too.”
“Firstborns? I think you’ve called into the wrong show. Rumpelstiltskin isn’t in today,” Bill joked, and I turned the radio off.
“What’d you do that for?” Marcus asked.
“These wackos’ theories aren’t going to help us,” I said. The window was open, letting in cool air. I pushed on the mirror, adjusting it. A minivan was directly behind us, a hundred yards away, and the car was running with the lights off. A trail of exhaust floated from the rear. I tried to see who was inside, and for a second, it was Francois, his menacing eyes piercing into the reflection. Then the door opened and a woman walked out, shouting at a little boy to hurry up. I was starting to lose it, to see things that weren’t really there. I had to assume the Believers were around every corner, or they’d catch up to me.
A knock rapped on the passenger door, and I pulled the gun from under my seat.
“Relax, Rex,” Veronica said as she opened it. Her hair was cut shorter, dyed a dark brown. Her eyes were a penetrating bright blue as she stared at me. “Tripp’s waiting inside. Care to join us?” Her voice held a sharp edge to it.
Marcus had already determined there was no CCTV here, and that was why we’d chosen the discreet meeting location. Plus, with lots of truckers coming in and out, as well as penny-pinching travelers during the holiday season, no one would notice our group.
“Tell your contact we’ll be there in two hours, Marcus.” I climbed out, depositing the rental’s keys in my pocket. I pulled a Red Sox hat on and saw my reflection in the gas station window. My beard was coming in, and with the dark bags under my eyes, the plaid jacket and the baseball cap, I didn’t even recognize myself.
The door chimes rang as we entered the diner, but no one turned to see who was there.
“Sit anywhere you like,” a red-headed waitress called from behind the counter. She was hastily refilling two truckers’ cups, and we joined Tripp in a corner booth that would accommodate a party of ten. It smelled like every diner in the state: a mixture of stale coffee and hash browns.
Tripp could have been a stranger. His head was trimmed into a buzz cut, his face bare as an egg. With a leather jacket and jeans on, he looked nothing like the military man I’d come to know.
Marcus kept his own cap low as he sat, scooting over to Tripp’s side. He’d chosen to grow a goatee and wore a plaid jacket similar to mine, completing his disguise. Veronica waited and went beside Marcus. I took the other end, constantly scouting the entrance for any sign of Bev.
“Coffees,” I said, and the waitress flipped our white china cups, splashing thick brew into them.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“I’ll take a burger. Fries.” Marcus slid a menu at her and shrugged. “What? A guy’s got to eat.”
I was still a mess, not ready for a meal until Bev and her family were safe. I couldn’t let anything happen to them or to these three people. Hunter’s death clung to me like a bad cologne.
The chime rang again, and Bev was there, Fred taking the lead the moment he saw me. I stood, confronting his angry posture. “Fred, before you say anything—”
His fists were clenched, his eyes burning. “What have you done?” He spoke quietly despite his mood, and I motioned for them to have a seat.
The kids stayed behind Bev, who seemed far more exhausted than she had in the grocery store parking lot. Edith held Carson’s hand, and their eyes were puffy, as if they’d just been crying.
“Fred, we’ll talk about it when we get to the safehouse. Do the kids need anything to eat?” I asked my sister.
Fred poked me in the chest. Hard. “Where are we supposed to go?”
I looked around. We were garnering some attention. “Seriously, we can’t talk here. Trust me, Fred. I’m only doing what’s necessary for you and the family.”
He glanced at my team and nodded slowly. “Fine. But this isn’t over. Where are we going?”
I leaned in, whispering an address. He scrambled for a piece of paper and a pen, but I shook my head. “Memorize it. Marcus?”
Marcus stood, handing Fred a burner phone. “Use the map on this. There’s one number saved on there, and it’s mine. Text if there’s any issues. We’ll be at the house in an hour and a half.”
Fred sighed and took the offering, shoving it in his jeans pocket. He no longer appeared upset, just afraid. “Are we going to be okay?”
I set a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “I think so.”
The waitress came, dropping the one plate to the table with a clatter, and Marcus smiled apologetically at her. “Can I get this to go?”
____________
We were ten minutes late, and by the time we arrived at the destination, we had a folder full of fake passports and a few other pieces of identification. Marcus hadn’t been kidding when he’d said his acquaintance was the real deal. I only hoped they worked when we used them at the airport.
I opened one, seeing Edith’s face. It was a good thing Bev was one of those mothers that insisted on posting every life event on social media, because we’d had a lot of options. This one showed the girl with no smile, cropped from a school picture the previous fall.
This region of Boston wasn’t on my radar, but it was beautiful. To our left was the Massachusetts Bay, and to the right, I spotted a lone lighthouse, standing tall and white, matching the snow on the shore.
“How many places did Hunter own?” Marcus asked.
“No idea.” The memory stick he carried hadn’t contained much, but it had supplied this address and a five-digit code, as well as a farewell message from Hunter himself. I closed my eyes, picturing the speech he’d given us.
His expression had been cheerful, and I couldn’t pinpoint when he’d filmed it. He’d fussed with the angle of the camera a bit before settling on one that made his chin look too big and his eyes distant. From the background, I guessed it had been inside the Parisian hotel, perhaps even on the night we’d ventured out in search of the third Token.
“Rexford, if you’re watching this, something dire has happened to me. To be honest with you, since the moment I saw you in the alley behind Hardy’s place in New York, I feel like each day has been a blessing. My life was due to come to an end eventually, and I’d been feeling that more and more lately. I am not well. The doctors have given me months, so if your heart is heavy over this outcome, rest assured it was inevitable.
“I suppose death is with every one of us, and I’ve lived a good life. Better than most, I like to think, even with my obsession looming over me with every step I took.” Hunter smiled as his hand slipped from the frame, returning with a glass of wine. It was three-quarters full, and he sniffed it before taking a sip. “Don’t live with regrets, Rex. Drink the best wines. Find love. Start a family, because even though we die alone, it doesn’t mean we should live alone.”
I’d teared up the first time we’d watched this. The two of us were more similar than I’d understood, and I heard the truth behind his advice. Now, as I sat parked beside the gate’s keypad, the memory only firmed my resolve.
“Are we going in?” Marcus asked. He was beside m
e, and he looked concerned. “Do you remember the code?”
“I remember it.” I pressed the buttons and the gate buzzed, swinging inward.
The house was more subdued than his East Hampton mansion, but it was still sprawling, laid out in a ranch style facing the ocean. My sister’s car sat beside Tripp’s borrowed truck, and the lights at the entrance were on. I parked beside them and stepped out, breathing the salty air from the water only a hundred yards past the house.
As I threw Hunter’s pack over my shoulders, I pictured the rest of the message. Hunter leaned toward the camera, his neatly-trimmed beard filling the screen. “You’ll find what you need where I’ve sent you. It’s the best I can do,” he whispered, glancing around the room. “Rex, finish this, and if you find Dirk, tell him I understand why he left me behind.”
I thought about this as I approached the house. Beverly’s shadow met me at the door, and Marcus walked past her with a quiet greeting. “I appreciate you bringing us to your dead billionaire friend’s house, Rex, but you need to tell us the truth.” Fred joined her, and I stepped inside, seeing the kids in the living room playing a card game with Veronica. They were laughing, a joyful sound to break the tension.
Kids were resilient, and they didn’t understand or grasp the severity of our situation. “Can we talk outside?” I asked. I let go of my pack and left my shoes on as I strode through the place. It was warm and inviting. A fire crackled in the woodburning hearth, and Tripp knelt at it, feeding the flames another log.
This house was far different, a style I hadn’t expected from Hunter. But he was a man full of surprises.
I glanced at the edge of the kitchen, to where a fully stocked bar sat. “I think you might want a drink for this.”
Fred nodded, taking my cue, and he went over, pouring bourbon from a crystal decanter. I was grateful for his heavy hand as I led the pair to the balcony outside. A gas heater had already been turned on, and Bev wore a jacket, standing beside the hissing warmth.
“Okay, I know it was a jerk move, ambushing you at the grocery store,” I admitted. The water crashed against the shore, and I stared at the waves as the sun descended in the west.
“You scared the daylights out of me. Can you imagine what it was like going home to Fred? Telling him we had to leave? And the neighbors took in Roger for us, but I don’t know how long they’ll keep him.” The words poured out of her lips, and she took a drink with a shaky hand. A few drops slid off the glass and landed on the gray deck.
“Rex, this better be good. Tell us why we’re here.” Fred was far calmer than my sister, and I appreciated it. He’d be able to protect her if necessary. I could see it in his eyes.
So I went into it. I told them about the clue on Clayton’s gravestone, and my subsequent trip to Venezuela to gather the Case. Bev started to cry when I described the coordinates we found in the airport, and Fred was done with his drink by the time I explained finding Castro’s house burned to the ground in the outback.
The sun had fully set, leaving the evening air crisp and humid. The moon was large, reflecting angrily off the tumultuous ocean waves as I described the next five stops. When I got to the Believers and our showdown in the South Pole, Fred was pacing the patio, running his hands through his hair.
“Rex, you’re saying they know who we are? Why would that matter? We haven’t done anything!” His voice was loud, and even though I didn’t expect the cult to be nearby, I still pressed a finger to my lips.
“That won’t matter. I’m beginning to understand how they operate. I have something they want; they’ll use anything possible to get my attention. And that means you.” I pointed at Bev. She was all out of tears, and I saw the fighting spirit in her eyes as she watched me.
“Maybe Richard can help,” she said.
“Richard?”
“Klein. He’s been texting me. Said if I saw you, to let you know he has something you’ll want to see.” Bev pulled out her phone and passed it to me.
“I thought I said to ditch these.” I quickly turned off the location and data service. I glanced at Fred, and he shrugged.
“Left mine at home, like you said.”
I scrolled her recent texts. Richard’s name was third from the top, and I read them.
Richard – Beverly, you need to take this seriously. Rex might be in some real danger. If you see him, tell him I have something imperative to his venture. Don’t delay.
I scanned it twice and turned the phone off, tossing it over the deck toward the rocky beach. The text was from yesterday.
“Where are we going?” Beverly asked me.
“Portugal,” I said.
“Why?”
“That’s where the Bridge entrance is. We’re hoping to learn the location in this house. Hunter’s message said we’d find what we’d need here.” I glanced inside, seeing my niece and nephew had convinced Marcus to join their card game.
“Anyone want another drink?” Fred asked, and I declined. He took Bev’s glass and brought it inside with him.
Beverly appeared deflated. “I can’t bring the family to Portugal. We have school in a week, and Fred has the company…”
“We don’t have a choice, Bev. This is important, and until we can figure out a way to convince the Believers that you’re not on the playing field, it’s the only solution I could think of.”
“And how do we do that?”
“I’m working on it. We don’t even have the last Token, so I don’t know that it matters.” The weight of the last few weeks bore down on me, and I watched my sister, wondering what I’d been thinking by dragging her into this.
Beverly’s posture snapped straighter, and she grabbed my hands. “These Tokens. You didn’t say what they looked like.”
I scowled as I retrieved them from my jacket pocket. I hadn’t let them out of my sight, not for a moment. All five of them were quite heavy together, and I slid the top one off, handing her the hexagonal alien metal piece.
It slipped from her fingers, and she quickly grabbed it from the bleached boards underfoot. “You have to be kidding me. And you need six of these to make this… Case thingy work?”
“That’s what we’re after.”
She paled and turned away, heading through the doors. “Give me a minute.”
Fred stopped her, but she shook him off, rushing to the kitchen island to snatch her purse. She took a wrapped gift out of it and returned with the slow walk of someone trudging to death row. Tripp and Veronica noticed something was off, and they both rose, coming closer to Fred. I walked inside, closing the patio doors, and saw my sister was crying.
“What is it?” I asked. She didn’t speak, just handed the present to me. My name was written on a little sticker with a cartoon reindeer on it. The wrapping was quality, red and green plaid inlaid with gold flecks. Bev had added a cloth ribbon. She always had been good at this kind of thing.
“This was for you. Dad gave it to me when I was a little girl. Well, he sent it to me.”
My heart fluttered.
“You had the watch, and when Dad vanished, I was so jealous that he’d given you a reminder of him, and not me. I was his princess, but he gave you a final present. I wanted that connection to him.” Her eyes were flooded with tears, and they streamed down her cheeks. Fred was immediately there, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“What’s in the box?” My vision blurred, white spots dancing around my periphery. Hunter’s living room had soft leather furniture, and I stumbled toward the rear of the couch.
“He sent it to me, Rex. He loved me and wanted to offer something from his last dig. That’s what I thought all these years.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you had this? Where was it postmarked from?” I asked.
“Paris, which didn’t make sense. Until tonight.”
It did to me. Luis would have mailed the Token to Beverly from one of the drops he was sent on. But the main question was why he’d couriered it in the first place.
I plucke
d at the ribbon, untying it. The paper came off in a hurry, with no thoughts of salvaging the wrapping as our mother used to do. The wooden box was stylish, dark and hearty, which reminded me of the African blackwood in Hunter’s study. I hadn’t noticed the others piling around, and when I peered up, the entire team was there, waiting from a few steps away. Veronica had tears in her eyes, but Tripp only crossed his arms, jaw clenched. Marcus was smiling, his fist near his chest in anticipation.
The lid was hinged, and I lifted it open. The sixth Token was inside, and I made a noise, a mixture of agony and unabashed joy.
“I kept it with me for the first year, in my backpack, under my pillow, hoping it would connect me to Dad. But after a while, I started to forget him. What he looked like, his smell, the roughness of his palms as he held my hand taking me to the playground. And just like any young girl, I forgot about the gift. I stowed it away in my closet, under piles of dolls, toy oven accessories, and eventually teen magazines and make-up cases.
“When I saw you at Thanksgiving, so adamant on finding his trail again, it made me think of what he’d sent me thirty-five years ago. And I had the box made up with the intention of giving it to you on Christmas morning. I imagined your delight at obtaining it, a connection to Dirk Walker. And then you told me you couldn’t join us. Richard’s texts, and the college president’s calls…”
“What did you say?” I stared at the Token. The symbol was familiar, drawn in the borders of my dad’s journals. It looked like a tree on fire, with the leaves each a flame. “Jessica?”
“She called me a couple of times, asking after you. I think she got your number from Richard, but…”
I had the entire collection of Tokens. “What did she say?”
“She was wondering if I knew where you’d gone. She had some things to discuss, but you weren’t answering her texts, calls, or emails, and she was beginning to worry.”
That didn’t matter. Only the Token she’d given me was important.
“Rex, we did it.” Marcus bumped shoulders with me, and I let him pick up the final Token.
It couldn’t be real. None of it. The last few weeks had been a dream. Hunter was dead, and we were so close. But we still lacked the exact location of the Bridge’s cavern.
Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Page 26
