Tethered Souls

by Beth Flynn

  Bill explained that after discovering someone had used a cutting-edge program to find Mimi, he’d tried to conduct a wellness check on her. He told the Bears that she attended a retreat in South Carolina every spring break and when he checked with the camp to verify her whereabouts, he was told the camp had been closed due to a medical quarantine.

  “And she hasn’t returned home or to college,” Bill offered. “She’s still somewhere close to the camp. At least her car is. She doesn’t know Grizz put a tracker on it that I monitor. And I suspect she’s staying at a house that Seth rented.” Before anyone could comment, he continued, “Yeah, I hacked the hacker and found out he rented a house with a bogus credit card near her camp.”

  “Christian would never hurt Mimi,” Christy practically shouted. “But we need to go get him, Anthony.”

  Anthony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “You think he took her against her will?” He opened his eyes, but wasn’t addressing anyone in particular.

  “Does it matter?” Slade barked. “He’s obviously violated his parole and somehow covered his tracks so that his phone is in a different state.”

  “That’s exactly what he did,” Bill agreed. “He had to have given his phone to someone who lives in Jacksonville, and is driving it all over the place. Have you tried contacting him, and if so, does he respond to texts or phone calls right away?” he asked Christy.

  “No,” she said, her voice wilting. “It always takes a while to get a text from him. And even longer to get a call.”

  “Because he’s instructed whoever has his phone to notify him at the number he called you from. And he’s telling this person how to reply to your texts. The couple of times he’s called you, he’s probably given you an excuse as to why he’s not calling from his phone. He’s had you convinced that he’s calling you from Jacksonville while using his friend’s phone, when he’s really three states away using a phone he probably bought along the way.” Looking at Christy, Bill continued, “Am I right?”

  She nodded.

  “Christian was in prison for three years,” Anthony said, changing the subject. “Can you pull up the inmates who were there with him and cross reference who’s been released against any of them who might have a current Jacksonville address?”

  The search took a few minutes, but Bill was able to tell them Christian had served time with a man named Reed Boyle who’d been released, and resided in Jacksonville.

  “What’s Christian’s license plate number?” Bill asked. "I hadn’t thought to look for Christian’s truck, but if we can find it, it just might provide more concrete evidence of the lengths he's gone to pull this off."

  When the three of them looked at him, he quickly added, “Never mind. I can find it faster.”

  Christy was now pacing, shooting nervous looks at Anthony who sat in his recliner, remaining calmer than she'd expected. It seemed like an eternity before Bill finally spoke.

  “Here,” Bill said, once again turning his computer around to face them. “This program scanned cameras near Boyle’s address and detected Christian’s vehicle by the type and license plate. And it’s obvious it’s not your son who’s driving it.”

  “No, it’s not,” Anthony confirmed.

  “Christian swapped trucks with Boyle,” Bill commented.

  “How do you know Reed Boyle owns a truck?” Slade asked.

  Without looking at Slade, Bill answered, “It’s all here.” He closed his laptop and stood up.

  “I have a responsibility to notify Grizz and Ginny,” he informed them, giving them a compassionate look. “But to keep Grizz from coming out of hiding, I’ll give you a head start. Right now, I’m certain Grizz doesn’t know about the camp being quarantined, and that Mimi is missing. Otherwise, he would’ve contacted me to activate the tracker he has on her car.”

  Anthony gave a curt nod. “We can get there faster from here than he can from Montana anyway. I don’t like to fly so it’ll take us two days by car. Less if we drive straight through.” He shot a look at Christy, and told her to line up a babysitter to come stay at their place. “We can leave as soon as Daisy gets home.”

  “Yeah, except that I should probably tell you that Grizz isn’t in Montana.” Bill looked from Anthony to Christy. “If that camp’s quarantine gets news coverage, or he somehow gets word of it and he can't reach Mimi, he will be calling me and I’ll have to tell him the truth. I’ll have to tell him what I know and give him the address where she is.”

  “Where is Grizz?” Slade asked.

  “He lives in North Carolina. Right over the South Carolina border, just hours away from where I suspect your brother and Mimi are.”

  They all heard Christy suck in her breath. “If he gets to Christian and Mimi first…”

  “He won’t ask questions,” Bill finished for her. “Grizz will act. And there’s no telling what that might entail.”

  “And Christian won’t be expecting it…” Christy added in a shaky voice.

  “Because he thinks Grizz died years ago,” Anthony growled. He gave his wife a glance that caused her to cringe.

  “Wait!” Slade yelled as he jumped up from his seat. Motioning his hands as if to tamp down erroneous conclusions. “Why can’t you get ahead of this and call Grizz to tell him what’s happened? Maybe he already knows. How do you know that Mimi hasn’t been in contact with her parents and is spending time with Christian willingly?”

  “Because I’ve looked at the texts she’s exchanged with her mother,” Bill piped in. “She doesn’t mention seeing your brother, the camp being closed, or that she’s staying somewhere near it in a rented house. As a matter of fact, she’s not sent any texts to her mother since the last one, and that was to confirm that she arrived at the camp, which we all know is a lie.”

  "And Christian probably sent that text or convinced Mimi to send it." Christy's voice was fading as quickly as the color in her cheeks.

  Slade returned to his seat as Anthony scrubbed his hand down his face and addressed his son. “And you think I should call to tell Grizz that Christian, who was just released from prison for a malicious act of violence, went to unbelievable extremes to find his daughter and is keeping her at a remote location in the middle of nowhere?”

  “If there is any chance of Christian bringing harm to her, I have to contact Grizz,” Bill interjected.

  “No!” Christy insisted. “As unreal as this may sound, Christian has loved Mimi since they shared a playpen. There is no way on this earth he would hurt her. I know he wouldn’t. Right, Anthony?” Christy wrung her hands as her eyes appealed to Anthony to confirm her statement. “And we still don’t know if it’s against her will.” Her voice was hopeful.

  Nodding his head, and trying to keep the irritation out of his tone, Anthony replied, “I agree. But I think we need to fly up there. Driving will cost us hours we don’t have.”

  Bill sat back down and opened his laptop. They watched as his brow creased in frustration. “I can’t get you a flight anywhere near where they are. They had an unexpected winter blast and even though it doesn’t look like the house where they’re staying got hit very hard at all, the two closest airports did. They’re closed and it doesn’t say when they’ll be reopening.”

  “How about a private jet?” Christy inquired.

  “It doesn’t matter what kind of air transportation you want to use. It can’t land at a closed airport. There are a few other airports, but the drive will be longer.”

  “Not longer than if we drove from here,” Anthony interjected. “Get us on the best flight you can, and have a rental car waiting for us.”

  “Please,” Christy added before giving Anthony a cross look for barking out orders to Bill.

  A few minutes passed before Bill announced, “Done.” He closed his laptop and stood. “I’m sorry to bring this down on you. I’ll do what I can to hold off Grizz on my end should I hear from him.”

  After thanking Bill for coming to them first and r
eassuring him that he and Christy were certain Mimi wouldn’t be in danger, Anthony walked him to the front door while Christy headed for the bedroom to throw essentials in a suitcase and call the sitter.

  Before opening the front door to leave, Bill turned around and addressed Anthony. “Christian not only found Mimi Dillon, but managed to evade or trick his parole officer, and cover up his true whereabouts by leaving his phone and truck in Jacksonville. When you think about it, his plan is flawless with the exception of not knowing Grizz is close enough to hurt or even kill him. And that’s not his fault because he would have no way of knowing about Grizz.”

  Anthony nodded. “You’re right.”

  “And you think he’s the smart one?” Bill added while nodding toward Slade. “Seems like your youngest son has outsmarted us all.”

  “That he has,” Anthony replied, unable to conceal the grin that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That he has.”

  Chapter 33

  Pumpkin Rest, South Carolina 2007

  Before heading back to the rental house, Christian shared a few more details with me as to how Blue became the club’s leader after Mickey Moran had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died shortly thereafter. Immediately following Mickey's death, Blue had been reinstated as leader. But not long after it was discovered that Blue was only second in command. He was reporting to someone else.

  The old crew had been involved with prostitution, theft, loan sharking, and street drugs. This new leader—only referred to as The Ghost—ran a more sophisticated gang behind a desk in an office that nobody had ever visited. Yes, there was still prostitution, but not the typical hooker you'd find on a street corner or hanging at a bar. These were high-priced call girls that were on retainer for clients with very deep pockets who needed to remain faceless. Clients who could be blackmailed for money, information, or favors. The loans to itinerant gamblers were no longer being arranged from the back rooms of pawn shops, but were being managed by a well-placed insider at the local casinos and racetracks. Yes, the gang had stepped up their business, and still kept the right amount of law enforcement in their debt.

  The Ghost was smart. The new club headquarters was a highly respected South Florida HVAC business. Shielding the club's illegal activities with an air conditioning company was brilliant. This gave gang members, some who were now HVAC employees, access to almost any building they wanted. If they weren't repairing the units, they were installing new ones. The point being that almost every building in South Florida had an air conditioner that needed to be repaired or replaced, or in the case of new construction, installed. And people lived in buildings. All kinds of people. Rich, poor, black, white, men, women. People that were flawed. People that took drugs, cheated on their spouses, hid gambling addictions and so much more.

  “So, does anybody know who this Ghost is?” I tilted my head to one side and frowned. “And where did they come up with the name The Ghost?”

  Without answering, Christian stood up from the picnic table, walked toward a large tree and stepped behind it. I didn’t realize what he was doing until I heard the unmistakable sound of liquid spattering against bark. I rolled my eyes and stood up, disengaging myself from the picnic table.

  “No. Nobody has a clue who The Ghost really is,” he called out from behind the huge oak. He came around the side of the tree and was zipping his pants when he said, “And the name Ghost is obvious. Nobody has ever seen him. But he wasn’t always The Ghost. He used to go by some weird name that was hard to pronounce.” He paused a moment and looked thoughtful before adding, “Verkozen.”

  “Ver...what?” I asked, scrunching up my nose.

  “Verkozen. I think it’s Dutch and means elected one. I guess it was mispronounced enough that it was shortened to just Kozen, which became Koze, which eventually became Ghost. Probably because it’s easier to say, kind of rhymes and makes more sense.” He shrugged his shoulders and added, “Don’t know and definitely don’t care.”

  “Has Blue met this elected one?” I asked using air quotes.

  “Blue communicates by cell phone or computer.”

  “Has he ever said if he recognizes the voice?” My curiosity was more than piqued.

  Christian shook his head as he reached for my hand and we walked toward the motorcycle. “I’ve been told it’s one of those robotic voices. It could be anybody. Blue could even by lying. Maybe there is no Ghost.” A few seconds passed when he added, “Or maybe there is, and it’s somebody who’s supposed to be dead.”

  The implication was obvious. We’d reached the bike, and I grabbed my jacket that I’d left draped over the seat. He held it up for me to slip on. I had my back to him and said, “No way. It’s not Grizz.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked, as he reached for his jacket. I’d turned around and was fastening mine when I shook my head. “He’s too busy. He’d never have the time, and he’s not exactly a poster boy for technology. If anything he hates it.”

  “What does he do all day?” Christian climbed on the bike and waited for me to get on behind him.

  “When he’s not helping my mother raise two four-year-olds, he trains and rehabilitates dogs. And when he’s not doing those things, he spends time making our home self-sustaining. He’s had solar panels installed for power, wells dug for fresh water. Stuff like that.”

  Christian didn’t reply. He started the bike and moments later we’d pulled out onto the main road and were heading back to the house.

  The long ride gave me time to think. Could my father be The Ghost that gave orders from behind a computer keyboard? I couldn’t picture him doing it. Everything I’d told Christian was true. Grizz kept himself very busy, and when he had free time, he used it to ride his motorcycle. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t find time to slip away by himself. He could have a laptop hidden somewhere or maybe use Mom’s when no one was around. After her nagging and then insisting he’d finally relented and gotten her one. She only used it to look up recipes or browse parenting forums. I knew he was very interested in the stock market and traded, but I never asked how. Maybe he used her laptop. And if that was the case, I’m sure there was some kind of technology that Bill used to make it untraceable. Heck, he could even be doing what I did all those years ago when I’d tried to establish contact with Christian—using public computers. My father using a public computer? I immediately dismissed the thought. Unless…what if Grizz’s disdain for technology was nothing but a cleverly designed ruse that allowed him to still run his old gang?

  The thought poked at me the entire ride home. Apparently, something had been poking at Christian as well, but it didn’t have to do with The Ghost. We’d pulled up to the house and I’d just gotten off the bike and was heading for the front porch when I heard him say, “I think I should go back to school with you to help you pack.”

  I slowly turned around to face him. He had dismounted, too, and was removing his jacket as he approached me.

  “Help me pack? For what?” I wanted to know.

  “To come back to Florida with me,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I don’t see why we need to wait until you graduate. You can transfer schools and finish up there.”

  “Who says we’re going to live in Florida?” I couldn’t keep the attitude out of my voice.

  He stopped in his tracks and frowned at me. “Who says we’re not?”

  “Don’t you think it’s something we should at least talk about?” I huffed.

  “What’s to talk about? We’re married. We belong together. And I can’t leave Florida until I’m finished with my parole.”

  I nodded. “Okay, I understand the parole issue,” I conceded. “But there is no way I’m transferring schools right now to finish up the last few months in Florida.” I shook my head and glared at him. “Not that I’d even consider it this late in the semester, but I don’t even know if it’s possible this close to graduation.”

  He gave me a smirk and said, “I’m sure we can figure it out. A couple of
bucks in the right bank account can make it happen.”

  I was suddenly filled with annoyance. If I didn’t think stomping my foot on the ground was tantamount to a full-blown juvenile hissy fit, I would’ve done it. I wasn’t an errant child, but I was a seriously ticked-off adult at his controlling assumption.

  “You can’t buy everything, Christian,” I spat. “And you can’t always have things your way. Did you ever once consider what an inconvenience it would be for me?”

  “You’re my wife now, Mimi. I want you with me.”

  “You can’t have everything your way, Christian! You certainly can’t disrupt me attending school. I’m graduating!” I yelled. “And besides, we’re not really married!”

  I saw a flash of anger in his eyes, and I braced myself for an argument. An argument that didn’t come as he turned his back on me and headed toward the stolen motorcycle. I stood with my hands on my hips and watched him drive off.

  I let myself in the house, and paced for a good twenty minutes before I grabbed an empty basket off one of the shelves and headed outside. I found my way back to the field of strawberries we’d stumbled on earlier in the week in the hopes of salvaging some that may have survived the dip in temperature. While I plucked the decent ones and tossed them in my basket, I found that my earlier anger had subsided. When I allowed myself to recall our conversation I realized that Christian hadn’t approached the topic in a demanding or bossy way. He may have been confident about his assumptions, but that was all. And considering Christian hadn’t gone to college, what would he know about the hoops I’d have to jump through to transfer? He wouldn’t, which is why he’d offered the only solution he was familiar with. Bribery. I’d been quick to unfairly assume he was issuing an order when he was only telling me what he figured was the best way to handle our situation. I was the one who escalated the conversation into a quarrel. I stopped picking strawberries and stood up when I realized we hadn’t had a quarrel. I had angrily jumped down his throat in a nasty and ugly manner. And he never once raised his voice or challenged me. Instead, he’d driven away.