by Lukens, Mark
“Sure. You got it. You know that.”
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem. I’ll get everything set up and send you some links in the e-mail that I’ve got for you. Don’t use the phone anymore until you get my e-mail. Okay?”
“Got it.”
“When you get the e-mail, click on those links and let the info download completely. Then you should be good to go after that.”
“You’re a genius.”
“I know. Anything else?”
“Not at the moment. Like I said, I might be calling you a few days from now for a few more favors.”
“You know I owe you anyway. What about Trevor? How’s he doing?”
Cole felt his throat closing up quickly. He knew V.J. was going to ask about Trevor eventually. He cleared his throat. “He’s … he’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“It’s a long story. Not one I want to talk about on the phone right now.”
“Yeah, man. I’m sorry to hear about that.”
“Thanks.”
“You should probably get off this phone now.”
“Yeah.”
“Take care, man.”
“You’ll hear from me soon.”
Cole hung up the phone and wiped at his eyes. He sniffled in a big breath and set the phone in the center console. He looked at Stella. “You can’t use that phone until I get an e-mail that will make this phone untraceable.”
Stella nodded like she’d heard that part of the conversation.
“You hungry?” he asked her.
“I am,” David said from the back seat.
Cole couldn’t help smiling. He put the truck in gear and drove across the parking lot to the McDonald’s. A few minutes later they ordered a variety of sandwiches and hash browns … more food than they could eat right now, but they would save the rest for later—it wasn’t like that kind of food was going to go bad anytime soon with all the preservatives in it. And of course they got two large coffees for them. Cole felt like he was living off of coffee right now.
He also took two No-Doz that he’d bought at Wal-Mart and swallowed them down with a few gulps of the coffee.
He thought about switching vehicles again, but they weren’t too far away from the border according to the map. Besides, he wanted to get back on the road, back on the move. And this time of the morning was the safest time to be traveling, the least likely time to be pulled over by a cop. They would just be one more work truck.
As they drove down the road, David munched a little on half a sandwich and drank a few sips of his soda, and then he lay back down to go to sleep again. He needed as much sleep as he could get, Cole thought.
Cole wished he could sleep as deeply and easily as David could. But every time he closed his eyes he saw his brother, his body parts stacked up again, a collection of parts brought back to simulated life, a grotesque puppet controlled by that thing.
All of this was still hard for Cole to wrap his mind around; it was like some nightmare that had come to life. He was used to the world being reliable, a natural set of physical laws that could be counted on. But now the world was tilting out of order, everything off balance now, like some kind of dream world that he was trying to navigate his way through.
And now that Trevor was gone it made everything so much more surreal. Of course he had prepared himself for the possibility that Trevor could die someday. It was a possibility all humans entertained no matter how much we tried not to dwell on it. And with Trevor’s choice of employment, his risk of death was a hundred times higher. But Cole hadn’t expected Trevor to die right in front of him. And not in that gruesome way … torn apart into pieces and then put back together into some kind of Frankenstein’s monster and possessed by that thing, that creature or being, or whatever it was.
Cole wasn’t particularly afraid of dying … he never had been. He wasn’t a religious man and he figured the lights just went out when you died … the show just ended. But after these last few days, after the things he’d seen, his idea of what reality was—and what existed outside of our own narrow perceptions—was changing abruptly.
CHAPTER 41
Cody’s Pass, Colorado
Special Agent Palmer jumped awake when his cell phone rang. He didn’t think he was going to be able to fall back asleep after the nightmare he’d had, but at some point he had drifted off … probably from pure exhaustion.
“Agent Palmer,” he said into the phone after the third ring. He didn’t even look at the number, his eyes still blurry with sleep. The TV was still on across the room and the sound was turned down almost all the way. Daylight was invading the room from around the edges of the blackout drapes over the front windows.
What time was it?
He glanced at the alarm clock. The red digital numbers glowed brightly in the murky room. Almost eight thirty.
“Agent Palmer?” the sheriff asked on the phone even though Palmer had just identified himself to the caller.
“Yes, Sheriff,” he said with a sigh.
“You said you wanted to speak to any witnesses.”
Palmer nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“We’ve got two of them lined up for you.”
“Great. Text me some addresses and directions if you could.”
“Sure.”
*
Both of the witnesses were young women and they were both cashiers in Cody’s Pass. Palmer decided to visit the woman named Melissa Caldwell first. She had seen Stella and David at the gas station where she worked on the morning of the bank robbery. The other cashier was a teenager named Cassandra who worked at a small grocery store. Sheriff Hadley had pointed out that both of them had been questioned already, but Palmer still wanted to speak to both of them in person.
He drove his rental car through the treacherous mountain pass from Destin down to Cody’s Pass. Melissa lived in a small two-story apartment building and there was already a police cruiser parked outside to keep any reporters from harassing the young woman.
Palmer parked his car near the squad car. He flashed his ID at the officer as he walked by and then climbed a set of concrete steps at the corner of the building that led up to a walkway protected from the snow by the edge of the roof. He walked about halfway down and a door opened up before he even got there.
Melissa filled up the doorway, smiling at him.
“Melissa Caldwell?”
“That’s me.”
Palmer pulled his ID and shield out again, flashing it at her. “I’m Special Agent Palmer with the FBI. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
She nodded. “Yeah, the sheriff told me you were coming by.” She moved out of the way so he could enter her apartment. “Come on in.”
Palmer entered Melissa’s small and cluttered apartment. The smells of old cooking grease and dirty diapers hit him right away. She gestured at a lumpy couch against the far living room wall. “Have a seat.”
He sat down on the very edge of the couch cushion, his body hunched forward and tense.
Melissa sank down into the corner at the other end of the couch, and it was like that section of the couch had become molded by her body over the years. She grabbed a gigantic To-Go cup (probably from the gas station where she worked, Palmer thought) and sipped something red and sugary from it, sucking the liquid up through a straw.
“I’m here to talk to you about the woman and the boy you saw on the morning of the bank robbery,” Palmer said as he pulled out a small notebook from inside his suitcoat pocket.
“Yeah. That was right before the big storm. I remember it. I remember her and the boy too.”
“Do you remember what kind of vehicle the woman was driving?”
“It was a big white truck. I don’t know what kind it was or what year. I’m not good with that kind of stuff.” She smiled sheepishly. “I remember that she bought fifty bucks in gas.”
“Did she have anybody else with her besides the boy? Did you see anyone else in her vehicle, or someone pumpi
ng gas for her?”
“I don’t think so. I’m sure it was only her and the boy in the store.”
Palmer jotted down some notes and then looked back at Melissa who was watching him intently.
“Did she only purchase gas when she was there?”
“No. She bought some other stuff.”
“You don’t happen to remember any of the stuff she bought, do you?”
“Oh yeah.” Slurp—another big sip of the fruit juice. “She looked like she was stocking up on supplies for a trip or something. She bought toothbrushes, a small tube of toothpaste, which is the only size we sell there. She bought some toilet paper. She bought some drinks and a few snacks. I even asked her if she was going on a trip or something. I asked if she was heading north. I told her a bad snowstorm was coming, but she didn’t seem to care.”
Palmer just nodded.
“Yeah. I told her she should wait out the storm.”
“How was her appearance? Was there anything unusual that you noticed about her? Did she seem nervous or angry? Was she in a hurry? Anything like that?”
“Yeah. Now that I think about it, she seemed nervous. Maybe even scared. And she was definitely in a hurry. It seemed like I was going too slow for her when I was ringing up her items. You can tell things like that after you’ve done this job for a while.”
“Of course,” Palmer said and smiled at her. “Is there anything else that you remember?” He would check the gas station security camera footage, but he wanted to see if anything popped up in Melissa’s memory right now.
“Something strange did happen when she was in the store,” Melissa said and leaned forward a little like she was letting Palmer in on the secret. She looked excited, like she couldn’t wait to share this with someone.
“Hi,” a kid said.
Palmer looked across the living room. Beyond a sea of toys scattered across the carpeting stood a two-year-old boy dressed only in a saggy diaper. The kid waved at Palmer and he had a big glistening grin on his face.
“That’s Brent,” Melissa said.
Palmer smiled at the boy and waved back at him. “Hi, Brent,” he said, but then he turned his attention back to Melissa, waiting for her to continue.
“Yeah, I already told the police about Jed being in the store that morning. He came in all the time, almost every morning. Usually for coffee, but sometimes for a donut or a sweet roll.”
Palmer nodded.
“Jed was the one who got killed in the bank robbery.”
Again, Palmer nodded.
“Anyway, he was there that morning. That was the last time I ever saw him. He went across the street to the bank and …” She let her words trail off as she looked away, almost like she could still see him walking away.
“I know this must be difficult for you.”
“Jed was a good man,” Melissa said, choking up a little, and then she miraculously recovered in seconds. “But he came in when that lady and her kid were in the store. She was at the counter and I was ringing her stuff up, and then she started looking around and panicking, like she’d lost her kid or something. But he was right down the aisle where she’d left him. And he was holding hands with Jed.”
“Holding hands with him?”
“Yeah. She ran right over to them and ripped her kid’s hand right out of Jed’s hand, like he was a pervert or something.”
“Do you think Jed grabbed David’s hand?” Palmer asked. He would try to double check with the security footage at the gas station.
“No. I think that kid grabbed Jed’s hand. And the lady was like all over him about it. But the weird thing is that Jed was like … like all stiff for a minute while he was holding the kid’s hand. His eyes … he looked like he was sleepwalking or something, like he wasn’t seeing what was there. You know what I mean?”
Palmer nodded as he scribbled down some notes in his little book.
“And then Jed kind of snapped out of it when he let go of the kid’s hand. It was like he’d just woken up or something. He walked back to the doors and I asked him if he was okay. I even said, ‘You don’t need anything today?’ Or something like that. And he just shook his head and said that he needed to get to the bank. But it was weird. It was like Jed wasn’t himself. Like he looked sick or something.”
“And then he went to the bank?”
“Yeah. He didn’t even get any gas, even though he was parked in front of the pumps. He just got in his truck and drove over to the bank. And then … he …” Melissa’s face crumpled a little again with emotion, on the verge of crying.
“That does sound a little strange,” Palmer said. “Anything else you can tell me?”
Melissa took another loud slurp from her gigantic drink and then she shook her head. “That’s about all I can remember.” She stared at Palmer like she was looking for approval for a job well done.
Palmer stood up and tucked his notebook away inside his suitcoat pocket. “Thanks for talking with me.”
She stood up, beaming. “You think you’re going to catch those guys who robbed the bank?”
“We’re working on it.” Palmer thought of all of the charred bodies at the cabin, and the one man who was still on the loose.
He left Melissa’s apartment and headed back down to his rental sedan. It seemed strange that David would hold a stranger’s hand and then that stranger would go right across the street where a robbery was going to happen only minutes later.
Quite a coincidence.
But Palmer didn’t believe in coincidences.
CHAPTER 42
New Mexico—Navajo Reservation
“I don’t like this,” Cole said as he drove.
They had driven across the border into the Navajo lands hours ago. The sky had turned from gray clouds in Colorado to deep blue sky in New Mexico, but the air was still bone-chillingly cold.
Stella glanced at Cole, but she didn’t respond to his comment. They’d already had this debate twenty minutes ago when Alice had called back.
Right after they crossed the border, Stella called Alice Newcastle, another archaeologist that she knew, a woman in her late fifties who had worked in this area for decades, working at practically every major dig site at one time or another. Over the years Alice had built up a trust with many of the Navajo people, and she even spoke a little Navajo, which was one of the most difficult languages in the world to learn. If anyone knew how to find Joe Blackhorn, it was Alice.
She knew Cole thought this might be a set-up. And she had to admit that it had crossed her mind as well. But what other choices did they have? David needed help from a shaman … and he needed help fast.
Alice had been a little distant on the phone when Stella called her from the now-secure cell phone. The conversation replayed itself in her mind.
“It’s me, Alice. It’s Stella.”
“Stella …”
She could hear the shock in Alice’s voice, the trepidation, the uncertainty of what to say next.
“I know you’ve probably heard some things about me,” Stella said.
“The police have contacted me about you,” Alice practically hissed into the phone, like she was keeping her voice low without being aware of it. “Not just the Tribal Police, either. The FBI, too. They’re looking for you. They’re saying that you might be traveling with a Navajo kid, David Bear, whose parents were murdered.”
“Listen, Alice. You know me. You’ve known me for years.”
Silence on the phone from Alice.
“Everything isn’t what it seems to be, and I can explain everything to you. I just need some help first.”
Alice was still listening. At least she hadn’t hung up.
“I need to find Joe Blackhorn,” Stella said.
“A difficult man to find.”
And Stella knew that was true. She had tried to get in touch with the reclusive Joe Blackhorn many times before, but he was protected by the people he knew. Alice told Stella a few years ago that she had talked to Joe Blackhorn, b
ut she didn’t know where he lived.
“I know,” Stella said. “But I need his help.”
“You need a shaman’s help?”
Stella was getting frustrated, but she had to control the sudden anger and impatience rearing up inside of her. She also had to think of things from Alice’s point of view. “I just need you to put me in touch with someone who can introduce me to him. Someone who can show me how to find him.”
There was another long pause on the phone.
“Alice, please. I need help. David needs help. I swear I can explain everything.”
Alice seemed to be weighing it over in her mind.
“In person,” Stella told Alice. “We’ll meet in person. Just you, me, David, and someone who can help me find Joe Blackhorn.”
“David’s parents were murdered,” Alice said in a cold voice.
“I know,” Stella said. “I told you I can explain what happened.”
“You know who killed them?”
Stella hesitated for a moment, then: “Yes.”
“Then you need to tell the police,” Alice screeched into the phone.
“I will, but I have to protect David first. Will you set up a meeting? Anywhere you want. I can pay this person whatever he or she wants. And I can pay you, too.”
“I don’t need any money,” Alice said. Stella knew that was true. Alice came from a wealthy family—Old World money from oil and mining. They had more money than they could ever spend. Alice could’ve spent her life jet-setting around the world and partying in world capitals, but instead she chose to spend her time out in some of the most remote locations, digging through the dirt for shards of pottery and pieces of bone. Alice’s family’s money gave her the freedom to pursue something much more valuable to her than money.
And then it clicked in Stella’s mind. She could offer Alice something much more valuable to her than money.
“I’ve discovered some things, Alice. Things about the Anasazi.”
“I’m listening.”
“These are major breakthroughs. Things that could rewrite history.” She could tell that Alice was intrigued.
