House at Road's End

by Peggy Staggs

  “Got—” I felt Jack move to me. “It’s going to take a lot of Saturday’s before I don’t expect to see him coming through my front door. A six pack in one hand and a bag of dog treats in the other.”

  I turned from the uniform to Jack. “When did you meet him?” I knew it was before Dad came to Spirit Springs. He was great at making acquaintances. He knew someone almost everywhere we went. Cole and I used to bet on how many people he’d know. It took a special person to earn the title of friend.

  “It’s a story for another time. Right now we’ve got to catch a dirt bag.”

  I nodded.

  This attic was nothing like the B&B’s. This one came straight out of a deranged horror movie. I’m not talking Dracula stepping from the shadows, all bloodshot eyes and fangs on display. No. This would be more on the order of Psycho. Three large steamer trunks lined one wall. Each big enough to hold a body. In a dormer sat a straight-backed wooden rocker with something draped over the arm. The only thing missing was mummy mommy. A derelict wicker bird cage laid on the floor near it. A rolled-up rug hugged the side of a small iron bed. I could easily see someone being held captive up here. I shivered. “I don’t like this place.”

  “It won’t take long to find what we’re after and get out of here.”

  So, that made two of us. Was there something to Jane’s assertions of ghosts? “There is no suitcase of any kind.”

  “Let’s look in the trunks.”

  I wasn’t in any hurry to open those.

  Jack examined each one. “Let’s try the one in the middle.”

  “Why”

  “It’s not locked.”

  He reached for the lid.

  “There could be a body in there.”

  “You’d smell it.”

  Good point. “Not if it’s dried up.”

  He shook his head. “What are you, a mystery writer?” He pulled open the lid. There laying right on top was an old suitcase.

  The big cat launched himself into the trunk.

  I jerked back. “Crazy cat.” I picked him up. “We should open the other two trunks too, but they’re locked.”

  “It’s not hard to pick the locks,” he said.

  It took him seconds to open them.

  “Did the Army send you to burglar school?”

  “You’d think, but no.”

  They held only quilts, photo albums, and old clothes.

  “Let’s open the suitcase,” Jack said as he closed the last trunk lid.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent all the time up here I care to.”

  “Gotcha.”

  In the kitchen, Jack laid the case on the counter.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to open it. “Go ahead.” I nudged him.

  “Sure.” He hesitated. Then, he popped the latches and lifted the lid.

  My voice came out in a whisper, “We found the letter.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jack lifted the envelope. His forehead creased.

  I touched the corner. “Why all the theater? It wasn’t like him.”

  “No. And that’s why it makes sense. No one would expect it.”

  “Dad never did anything without a reason.” I couldn’t open it. What was in it? Would opening it change everything? Would it be one change too far? The one that would make me leave here. “Oh, god.” My breath caught in my throat as I grabbed the counter. “No.”

  He seized me as if he thought I was going to pass out. “Are you alright?” His face filled with concern.

  I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t admit it to myself. No. No. I had a plan. I was leaving. I had to leave. I had to say something. He was waiting for me to say something. “You don’t think Irwin had anything to do with his death, do you?”

  His expression told me he thought my reactions was over the top. “He definitely doesn’t have the stomach for it himself.” He let me go. “And, he doesn’t have the juice to know the kind of people it takes to kill someone and keep their mouth shut.”

  He popped open the seal and pulled out the contents. With the letter was a credit card application. In Dad’s upright squished hand were the bold letters: Jack, I hid everything in the construction shack. I know you’ll do the right thing. RM

  I took the application. It was one you get in the mail ten times a week. It wasn’t addressed to Dad. I handed it to Jack. “This is for Susan Milton. Who is she?”

  Jack smiled. It was like a light came on. “Of course. He would do this for...” It was like he suddenly remembered I was there. “Interesting.” He folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. “The rest of this is up to me.” He slipped it into his pocket.

  No, it wasn’t. “Where is this shack?”

  “The resort.”

  »§«

  Just before dawn I decided I was going to go up to the resort, find the shack, and get the evidence. I knew I shouldn’t go alone. I knew I should tell someone where I was going. I knew they’d stop me.

  I got dressed. With the cat basket in one hand and what I imagined I’d need in the other, I opened the backdoor to the B&B. As always, the big cat entered first. “We should name him His Highness,” I said as I set the basket down near the stove. “He thinks he is regal.”

  “Good morning, Dr. Markus.” Jane stopped.

  We looked at each other and shook our heads at the same time. “Nope,” was all she said.

  “There’s coffee.” Jane went to the cat food. “Got the coffeecake all done and the fruit thawed.”

  I turned on the griddle. It didn’t take long to get everything ready. As I pulled the last of the pancakes from the hot surface, we heard the men coming in the front door.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Mr. Tyson called. “Lunch yesterday was amazing. Best ever.”

  “What did you fix?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Just sandwiches and fruit.”

  “Thanks,” one of the men said. “They hit the spot.”

  “Good to hear. You’re getting fried chicken today.” Jane set a cooler on the counter.

  I pulled the pancakes from the warm oven and put it beside a plate of bacon.

  Jane added a plate of scrambled eggs. “Fruit and syrup are on the table. That’s the last of the bacon. James Parker will be slaughtering next week, so we’ll have fresh side pork, then.”

  The men were busy eating when Jane asked, “How was the date last night?

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “So no goodnight kiss?”

  “Jane, I told—”

  “Yeah, yeah. What did you do?”

  I leaned closer to her. “We found the letter.”

  “No. What did it say?”

  “Only that—”

  “Good morning.”

  We turned to find Kenny standing at the backdoor.

  “What are you doing here this early?” Jane asked.

  “I was on my way home and I thought I’d see how things went last night. No break-ins?”

  I tried to shush him, but it didn’t do any good. “Kenny, our guests.” I didn’t like him showing up just before I left for the shack.

  “Oh, they know all about it.” Jane said. “Told them when they asked about the crime scene tape.” She scowled at Kenny. “You ever going to take it down?”

  “The Sheriff hasn’t said to, yet. Besides, it’ll look good for Halloween.” He pointed to the trucks outside. “Things must be picking up.”

  I decided to ignore him. “Is there anything left for a lunch?”

  She grinned. “Another date?”

  “Jane,” I warned.

  “Fried up some extra chicken for dinner. I thought it might make a nice cold supper or a picnic.”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. Jane’s mind was made up. I didn’t want to tell her I was going alone. She’d want to come along. Above all, I didn’t want Kenny to know anything.

  “Isn’t it a little cold out for a picnic?” Kenny asked.

  “Depends who you’r
e with.” Jane grinned.

  “Where you going?” Kenny asked.

  Great. “Nowhere special. I’m going to take in the sights. Maybe drive to Boise and do some shopping.”

  He didn’t believe me. I could see it in his expression. I didn’t care.

  “Well, I’m off duty. I need to get home and get some sleep.” He nodded and left.

  “Jane.” What? Is your sister’s son a bad guy? “How long has Kenny been a deputy?”

  “Jerry Evans hired him before Jack got here. Takes after his no-good father. Dumber ‘n a post.”

  Was that it? Were Kenny’s intentions good and he wasn’t bright? I hoped so for Jane’s sake. And mine.

  Jane packed a lunch for two. I’d explain when I got back about all the extra food.

  »§«

  I climbed into my Lexus SUV. My version of a truck. I was ready. I’d Googled the area, brought a map and added my .38 in with the chicken in my backpack.

  A mile out of town, I left the highway by a large sign that read Future home of Ghost Springs Ski and Spa.

  The well-kept gravel road was generally smooth. I turned and headed up the hill the well-groomed portion narrowed and roughened.

  I slipped a book on CD into the player. I had to think about what had led to my dad’s death and everything that had happened since. I hit reject.

  The morning didn’t shine. Clouds covered the crystal blue sky of yesterday. I’m not one to put any credence in signs or omens. I should have.

  Several miles up the hillside, the bumps gave way to furrows. Scattered around were rocks that had slid onto the road. I wanted to get up the hill as fast as I could. The rutted and uneven road forced me to creep along. “I hope it doesn’t get any worse.”

  The hill grew steeper. On one side, it angled straight up. On the other, straight down. It hadn’t stopped the trees from growing straight out of the rocky cliffs on both sides of the road. “How in the world did they get equipment up this sorry excuse for a road?”

  The SUV lurched from side to side as I navigated the bumps.

  A deep depression bounced me hard against the seatbelt. “Ouch!”

  I slowed and inched up the hill. Maybe I’d made a mistake. I glanced back down the hill as I rounded a corner. I had to be more than two-thirds of the way up. So no going back. It didn’t matter I wasn’t sure I could turn the car around on this narrow path of a road.

  I wrenched the steering wheel to one side in an attempt to miss a large rock more or less the size of my SUV. The car would be fine, but I wasn’t sure the road would hold up its end of the bargain.

  Crack. This time I’d hit a deep hole hidden in the shadow of an overhanging branch. The SUV rocked to a stop.

  “Seriously?” I got out.

  My tire was wheel-deep in a hole. I don’t mean the bottom of the wheel. Oh, no. That I could have gotten out of...probably. This was nearly half-way up. I bent down and peeked underneath. The axle was laying on the ground. I’m no mechanic, but I figured that wasn’t good.

  I pulled out my cell phone. “So much for going it on my own.”

  No service. “No. No. No. It’s not possible.” I turned, holding the phone high in the air. Nothing. It made sense. Around me, the canyon walls rose at a steep angle. Tree roots grasped at the rocks to keep from sliding into the river below. For some, the battle was lost. They’d slipped downhill.

  I’d walk up the road until I found a high spot. From there, I’d be able to call for help and all would be well. This wilderness stuff wasn’t all bad. Though, I didn’t like the fact that my brand new SUV was stuck and broken. It too could be remedied. I pulled my backpack from the back seat. I wasn’t going very far without food, water and my gun.

  The road was like climbing one flight of stairs after another. I pressed the button on the Fitbit I always wear. I’d climbed a hundred flights of stairs. “Great, for my legs, but I hope I can hold out until I find a place to get cell service.”

  Two shots split the calm.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I ducked and, hugged the sandy hillside.

  Silence.

  “Hunters. It had to be hunters. Wasn’t it deer season? Of course, hunters would help me get back to town.” A new plan. Now, all I had to do was find them. I decided the best course of action was to stay on the road. Everyone knows you don’t shoot toward the road.

  The one thing I do know about the woods is that if you get off a path, you wind up going in circles. If I couldn’t find an open spot or the hunters in a short time, I’d turn around. It’d take me the rest of the day, but I could walk back to town.

  I rounded the next corner. The sound of gunfire echoed through the canyon. I had no way of knowing where the bullets were coming from. I did know whoever was shooting, wasn’t deer hunting. I sought cover against the hillside.

  I didn’t want to walk into the line of fire.

  The shots stopped. They had to be sighting in their weapons. There were too many shots for hunters.

  Logic screamed at me to go back. There had to be a clearing up here close. It couldn’t be like this all the way to the resort. Could it?

  I was right and so very wrong.

  Around the next blind corner, the canyon opened up. I could see four switchbacks ahead. There two hairpins farther along, was Jack’s truck.

  One wheel hung over the cliff. The driver’s door gaped open.

  I did the only thing I could think to do. I ran up the road. Had he misjudged the turn and slid off? Had he fallen from the truck and was lying hurt on the hillside?

  The altitude stole my breath with each step. I was tougher than this. I ran on though my breath now came in gasps.

  Sliding to a stop, I hesitated at the back of the truck. If he was too far down the hill or too badly hurt, I wouldn’t be much help. There was no way I could lift him or even drag him up the hill.

  That’s when I saw the windshield. A bullet hole had slammed through it and into the driver’s headrest. Cracks spider-webbed out on all directions. Now, I couldn’t catch my breath at all.

  The truck tilted at an angle that made it difficult to move along the driver’s side. There was blood on the door’s window.

  Those gunshots had been aimed at Jack. “Damn it.” I wanted to scream. I slipped out of my backpack and peeked around the passenger’s side. A spray of bullet holes raced down the side. I made it to the front of the truck.

  I jerked opened the passenger’s door. Blood smeared across the console. No body.

  At the back of the truck, I inched my way along the driver’s side. If he’d gotten out of the truck and lost his balance because of a head wound, he could have fallen all the way to the river a hundred feet below.

  Did I dare call out? “Jack? Can you hear me?” I kept my voice low. If the men with the guns were still around, I didn’t want to attract their attention. “Jack?” I called a little louder.

  Scrambling back to the truck, I found an M4 in the gun rack and shells below. I took them both.

  With my backpack on one shoulder and the M4 on the other, I hesitated at the back of the truck. He had to have gone to cover.

  I stopped at the cut of the road. It wasn’t more than twelve feet high. I couldn’t stay where I was, and I didn’t know what I’d do if, the bad guys had followed Jack. “I have to try.”

  The climb wasn’t easy. Halfway up, I slipped back to the road. My backpack fell off my shoulder. The M4 banged into my head. “There has to be an easier way.” I retrieved the pack and headed back up. This time I put the backpack over both shoulders and gun on correctly.

  When I got to more solid ground, I crouched down. Now, all I had to do was something I had no idea how to do. Track. Something made doubly hard by the fact that Jack was trained. Trained really well. I scanned the ground.

  “Get a grip.” I can do this. I have to.

  Everything depended on how badly he was hurt.

  I pulled out my cell phone. I squeezed my eyes shut. Could this get any worse
? The screen was crushed. No doubt from the fall back to the road. I pushed the button on the side. Nothing. I shoved it back in my pack.

  At least, I’d had the foresight to wear a jacket. It was just a blazer, but it was wool.

  I had no idea what a Delta Force guy would do. I stood there, paralyzed by logic and doubt.

  The valley below was a lifetime away.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Doc, one day you’re going to actually stay where I put you. You were supposed to stay in town. This is my job.”

  I jumped. “You’re alive.”

  “And you’re where you shouldn’t be. Again. And you’re alone.”

  “Are you alone?” I wasn’t going to be scolded.

  “Yes.”

  “So then, it’s okay for you to be up here alone, but not me?”

  “Last time I looked, you don’t wear a badge.”

  “And you have deputies.”

  “Kenny is nowhere to be found. Luke and Oliver are taking care of the town. I’m the only one left.”

  I changed the subject before he asked me why I was up here alone. I didn’t have a good answer. “I saw your truck and thought you were dead.”

  “The piece of crap shot my truck.”

  “Is it wrecked?”

  “Partly. It needs to be winched out. Where’s yours?”

  “Down the hill with one tire in a hole.”

  “You walked up here?”

  “I was searching for cell service. Then, I fell coming up the hill and broke my phone.”

  “Doesn’t matter. There’s no service up here.”

  “Do we have to walk down?”

  “We have a bigger problem.”

  “Your head is bleeding. Let me look at it.” I set my pack on the ground. “I have a first aid kit in here. I dug around for the kit.

  “Later. We need to get back to my truck.”

  “It’s hanging over a cliff.” I knew I was pointing out the obvious, but sometimes the obvious needs pointing out.

  “I need to get my equipment. We can’t be out here without it.”

  “I have your M4.” I pointed to the weapon.

  “It’ll come in handy, but we need the rest.”