Deserted

by E. H. Reinhard

  “Where are we headed here?” Beth asked.

  I pointed at the men sitting on the back of the truck. “Head over there. We’ll ask for our guy.”

  Beth went left, drove toward the building, and came to a stop near a large green tractor parked at the building’s edge. I pulled my notepad from my pocket and flipped to the page with our possible eyewitness’s name.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  I stepped from the passenger side of the car and approached the men on the back of the truck, both of whom had stopped what they were doing and stared over at me. The men I’d seen moving in and out of the building had disappeared. I took in the two seated guys as I walked up, each dressed like a ranch hand and coated in a layer of dust over his clothing. A cooler they were eating lunch from separated the two on the tailgate.

  “Afternoon,” I said.

  I received dips of their heads from both men as they continued eating.

  “I’m looking for a Walter Delbin,” I said.

  Neither responded.

  The words “Up at the house” came from inside the building.

  I walked past the two guys on the truck, poked my head inside, and spotted a man with his back toward me at a workbench near the back. “Up at the house, you said?”

  The man turned and faced me, putting his back to the bench. He looked to be in his late fifties, with a graying beard. The man wore a tan baseball hat pulled low and a denim jacket and jeans. “Yup. Follow where the driveway splits to the right and take it to the end. The boss was in his garage back there the last I’d seen him.”

  “Appreciate it,” I said.

  The man turned back toward the bench.

  I walked back to the car and got in. “Follow the driveway there to the right. I guess there’s a house all the way at the back.”

  Beth backed out and got us turned around. We drove down the gravel driveway, seeing nothing more than more fence and more cattle as acres and acres of land passed by outside the car windows.

  “What does this guy own, half of Texas?” Beth asked.

  “A hell of a lot of land, apparently.”

  “Any idea what Ball actually told this guy?”

  I shrugged. “He had to tell him that we were coming out here for some reason.”

  Beth continued driving as a trail of dust from the gravel driveway rose behind the car. A minute or so later, a tin-roofed brown log cabin came into view. A large detached garage with its doors open stood off to the home’s right side. Beth rolled to a stop and clicked the car into park. A man appeared from the open garage door and pulled a pair of work gloves from his hands. He wore a button-down plaid shirt with what looked like a leather collar and jeans. White hair could be seen under his cowboy hat. Beth and I stepped from the car just as the dust in the air began to settle.

  “Mister Delbin?” I asked.

  “You found me. I’m guessing you’re from the FBI?” he asked.

  “We are,” Beth said.

  “The guy I spoke to said that they were sending some agents out here today. Let’s head up to the house,” he said.

  Beth and I followed the man across the gravel driveway and up three steps onto his front porch. He pulled open the screen door at the front of the house and waved us inside. We sat at the man’s kitchen table. Mr. Delbin took his cowboy hat from his head, hung it on a wall hook, and poured himself a cup of coffee from a glass carafe on the counter.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said.

  Beth also declined.

  Mr. Delbin took a seat at the table with Beth and me. “So from what I gather, you want to know what I saw when I gave that statement some years back.”

  “That’s correct,” Beth said. “If you could just run through it for us, that would be great. We realize it’s been some years, but whatever you can remember…”

  “Sure, no problem. The agent I spoke on the phone with, Ball, seemed pretty interested in what I saw. Which would lead me to believe that after six years, there’s either something new, or a connection to what I reported.”

  “Yes,” I said. “We have some new evidence that would suggest we are looking for a female. Twins would share DNA and also be a possibility.”

  “Well, who I saw were twins, and they damn well seemed off,” Mr. Delbin said.

  “How far away did this happen from here?” Beth asked.

  “Just up the road. A couple miles. I was going to the gas station to fill up some fuel cans for the ranch equipment, and my truck’s dash lit up like a Christmas tree. It started stuttering and that—I pulled it to the side of the road. None of my guys show up on the ranch much before six thirty, so I was kind of on my own. I tried calling the service shop connected to the gas station to see if they could send out the tow truck to bring me in, but I didn’t get an answer. I know the guy who runs the service station, Max Allen. He usually opens up around five or so in the morning. I figured I could walk up there, hop in the tow truck with him, and just come back to pick up my truck. So I grab my flashlight from the truck’s center console and get to walking.”

  “What time do you think this was, exactly?” I took the notepad from my pocket.

  “Probably around a quarter to five in the morning. Still dark out, but there was enough light to see. The flashlight was more so that I could see my footing and didn’t get hit by a car, out walking the road’s edge.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Well, I’m walking, and this semi rolls up and stops. These two girls pop their heads from the passenger-side window and ask if I need a ride. But they didn’t really ask it in a we’re-trying-to-help-you way. Their words and the way they asked kind of carried a sexual undertone. I shine the flashlight up at them, and they look like teenagers. So I’m standing on the side of the road wondering why two teenage girls are trying to get an old man into a truck with them, not to mention what kind of person is driving the rig that has two teenage girls trying to pick up guys walking on the side of the road.”

  “Logical thing to wonder about,” I said. “Go on.”

  “Well, I tell them that I’m fine, take the light off of them, and continue walking. The truck follows me, barely rolling, matching my pace. The two girls ask me again if I want to get in with them. They ask me if I’m sure and assure me that it will be worth it. So I stop again and put the light up on them. Well, as I was lifting the light to shine on them, I spotted what looked like blood all over the stainless-steel step leading up to the cab. I just got a bad feeling, like I wasn’t in a good situation. I put the light on the girls, and both of them were smiling ear to ear. They asked if I wanted to have some fun with a pair of hot young twins. I took the light off of them, brought it back to what I thought was blood, for another quick look, and resumed walking. The truck matched my pace again for a second with the girls catcalling at me through the window before they finally drove off.”

  “And on second glance, did you still think it was blood?” Beth asked.

  “Damn near positive.”

  “What did the truck look like?” I asked.

  “A red eighteen-wheeler.”

  “Make and model?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. It looked like any of the millions that are on the road,” Mr. Delbin said.

  “The trailer—any markings or trucking-company names or anything?” Beth asked.

  “Not that I can remember.”

  “So you don’t know if it belonged to a company or maybe was a personal truck?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t tell you. Sorry.”

  “The trailer’s color?” I asked.

  “Silver,” he said.

  “Did the truck have any chrome or add-ons or anything that made it distinguishable?” I asked.

  “The stacks on it looked a little bit bigger in diameter than what would be normal, I guess.”

  I wrote down the little he gave us on the truck, doubting it would lead us anywhere. “Okay, back to the girls because it soun
ds like you got a pretty decent look at them. Can you describe them for me?”

  “Maybe sixteen or seventeen, probably not much younger than that. I doubt any older. They were both thin. One black hair, one blond. Neither hair color looked natural. The blond color of the one girl’s hair was real white. The black hair just kind of looked wrong on the other girl. The black-haired girl was also wearing black lipstick and had a lot of dark makeup around her eyes. The main thing was the way they were acting. It just wasn’t right—giggling and laughing, trying to be seductive, I guess. It was just off for two girls of that age.”

  “And you never got a look at the driver?” I asked.

  “Not a glimpse.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kerry

  Kerry sat over a bowl of cereal, glancing over at Kitty’s Denver omelet with a side of hash browns covered in cheese and onions. A pool of oil from the cheese had puddled on the plate near the omelet. A side of waffles sat next to Kitty’s main dish. Kitty shook a salt shaker over her plate.

  “You’re going to get fat,” Kerry pointed at Kitty’s meal with the end of her spoon and then dunked it down into her corn flakes and milk.

  Kitty took her eyes from the television above their corner booth in the truck-stop diner. “You just worry about yourself,” Kitty said. “Let me enjoy my meal in peace.”

  “Whatever. Tell me how me worrying about myself goes when you put on forty pounds.”

  “I’ll just starve myself if I start gaining weight. I’ll be fine.” Kitty slapped some butter across the top of her waffles and drenched them in blueberry syrup. “So who all knows we’re coming?”

  “Just Uncle Harper. And he better keep his damn trap shut. I’m going to be pissed if he ruins the surprise,” Kerry said.

  Kitty cut some of her waffles with the side of her fork and jammed them into her mouth. “Did he say who was all going to be there?”

  “Ginny, Grandma, Ben and Bobby, plus whoever they bring. Daddy. Us… and our guests.”

  “No Uncle Roman?”

  “Still in prison,” Kerry said. “He has another year left.”

  “It would have been nice to have the whole family together. And you’re positive Daddy doesn’t know?”

  “Unless Uncle Harper told him. Speaking of which, I should call him before we leave here and we get back out on the road.”

  “Hey, check out these two.” Kitty pointed her chin toward an older couple seated a few booths away from them.

  The pair held hands across the table and prayed over their food.

  “What about them?” Kerry asked.

  “Think Daddy would like them?”

  Kerry stared over at the couple for a second. The two looked like they were in their late sixties or seventies.

  “Too old,” Kerry said.

  “Daddy doesn’t care about age. He likes the religious type.” Kitty covered a piece of toast in grape jelly.

  “Nah, they’ll probably just die in the back of the truck on the way.”

  “Come on,” Kitty said. “Me and you on the road. Doing what we do. Top of the food chain. If not them, then let’s go find someone in the lot or something. The more we bring to the party, the better.”

  “Just relax. We have a full day of driving ahead of us. We already have enough.”

  “But I want more,” Kitty said.

  Kerry stared her sister in the eyes. “I am not listening to this shit all day again. We spent all day yesterday aimlessly driving around before we found someone.”

  “Yeah, but we made six hundred bucks,” Kitty said.

  “Okay, listen. The party is tomorrow. We need to be there. If we see something easy, maybe. Otherwise, we’re getting on the road. Maybe we’ll find something later tonight.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  Kerry rolled her eyes and brought her cereal bowl to her mouth to drink the remaining milk. She set the bowl before herself and tossed the spoon into it. “Finish your breakfast, fat ass. I’m going to go call Uncle Harper.”

  “Bitch.”

  Kerry slid out from the booth and walked toward a bank of pay phones. She locked eyes on the old couple as she passed them. The old man looked up from his lunch at her, quickly looked away, and said something to his wife. Kerry walked directly to the couple’s booth and stopped at the edge.

  “Can I help you, miss?” the old man asked, looking up at Kerry with a bit of a smile.

  “What did you just say about me?” Kerry asked.

  “Excuse me?” he asked. The smile vanished from his face.

  “What did you say? You looked at me and then said something to your wife. Tell me what you said.”

  “I think you are mistaken, young lady,” the man said.

  “I’m not mistaken,” Kerry snapped.

  The man said nothing. The old woman reached over and touched his hand. “Honey, maybe I should get a manager.” She tried to slide out from the booth.

  Kerry blocked her way.

  “I’m trying to get out, miss. Please move,” the woman said.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” Kerry reached toward the woman’s plate and grabbed a French fry off of the pile next to her sandwich, which appeared to be some kind of club.

  “Hey,” the woman said.

  Kerry’s head jerked toward the old woman. “Shut it, grandma.”

  “You can’t talk to my wife like that,” the man said.

  Kerry looked at the man and tossed the French fry in her mouth. “I just did. What the hell are you going to do about it, old man? Now, tell me what you said.” She picked up the man’s drink and wrapped her lips around the straw. Kerry took in a big drink of the old man’s sweet tea and set it back down on the table.

  “He said you looked like a sinner,” the woman said. “No wholesome woman wears shorts that small with their midriff out in the open.”

  Kerry glanced down at her outfit—a small tank top that ended above her belly button and a pair of small jean shorts with the pockets hanging out the bottom. She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes in her flip-flops.

  “So you have a problem with how I dress?” Kerry asked. “It’s called summer. Because you can see my stomach and legs, that means I’m a sinner?”

  Neither responded.

  “So if I was wearing a sweater and long pants, I’d go to heaven?” Kerry asked.

  “Please go away,” the woman said.

  Kerry stared at the woman and shook her head. “What the hell is it that makes you people think that you can pass judgment on me by the way that I look?”

  “Miss, please,” the man said.

  Kerry snapped her fingers at the old man to silence him. “My sister and I grew up in a religious household. We go to church twice a week—have since we were little. We’re actually driving to a family reunion right now. Does that sound like ‘bad people’ to you?”

  The couple said nothing.

  Kerry laughed. “It’s hard to say any of that with a straight face. You guys were actually right. My sister and I are the worst kind of sinners. We just love to sin and sin and sin. All day, every day if we can.” She swatted the old woman’s back, causing her to cough. “Finish your fries before they get cold. They’re delicious.”

  The couple scoffed and muttered as Kerry left the edge of their booth and continued to the phones. She pulled some change from her pocket, plugged it into a phone, and dialed her uncle. She turned and looked back toward Kitty as she waited for it to ring. Kitty held her hands up, seemingly questioning what had just occurred with the old couple.

  “Hello,” a man answered.

  “Uncle Harper?” Kerry asked.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  Kerry could hear her uncle tell someone he was going to take the call in the bedroom. A moment later, he came back on the line.

  “Hang it up, Ginny!” her uncle shouted.

  Kerry heard a click.

  “Sorry, kiddo. Your pop was sitting right next to me on the couch.”

&nbs
p; “He’s there?”

  “Yup. He’s here. Doesn’t look too much worse for the wear, either.”

  “Good,” Kerry said. “You didn’t tell him about us coming, did you?”

  “Nope.”

  “What’s going on with the party?”

  “I told him we were going to have a little party like we used to do back in the days,” he said. “To celebrate his release and all. He seemed fond of the idea. Are you guys bringing anyone?”

  “Three now. Maybe another two.”

  “That should be fine.”

  “Did Daddy say anything about Kitty and me?”

  “Just that he needed to call you guys and tell you that he was out. So I’d probably be expecting a call from him sometime today.”

  “Okay. If he calls, we won’t answer. I could see Kitty spilling the beans on the phone,” Kerry said. “We’ll be in your area late tonight, probably make a stop for the night, and then come to the house tomorrow morning. I want to show up while Daddy’s awake. He needs to see his truck driving up the driveway and then us pop out from inside. At least, that’s kind of how I envision it.”

  “Sure, sure. Are you guys making good time?”

  “Not really. We’ve been taking it pretty slowly, actually. Having some fun along the way. Picking up some hitchers and hookers. Making a few bucks from some to pay for the trip before parting ways, hanging on to some others. You know.”

  “Sounds nice. Where are you two now?” he asked.

  “A truck stop about an hour east of Dallas. We stayed the night here. We’re kind of getting a slow start to the day. I figure we’ll be back out on the road in a half hour or so, though.”

  Kerry looked over at the old couple’s booth. They were speaking with a man wearing a brown apron and a name tag. The woman pointed over at her, and the man in the apron looked.