The Creator

by Neil Carstairs

  ‘It has to be done,’ Congrave added.

  Devon shrugged, still not happy but no longer protesting.

  ‘Looking further ahead,’ Henry said. ‘Would you need an extraction plan in place?’

  ‘Best to have one,’ Congrave said. ‘Did you have anything in mind?’

  ‘I can get three Little Birds staged down to the border if Delta team need them.’

  ‘Do it.’ Congrave looked around the room.

  Reuben returned. ‘We are on a Brussels Airlines flight departing at fifteen-twenty. Flight time is around nine hours.’

  Congrave checked the time. ‘You’d both better hustle. Get details from Henry about contacting the consulate’s military liaison officer. Any questions?’

  No questions came. Congrave said, ‘Let’s get to work.’

  ***

  The soon to be ex-Mrs Walsh turned out to be an attractive brunette with a bitter streak that made Ben realise what the saying ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ meant. She had pretty much called Jane DeForrest every name under the sun and a few she’d invented for the occasion. Ben and Kramer soon realised they wouldn’t get much impartial information from Lyndsey Walsh. For the last ten minutes they had been trying to extract themselves from the meeting in the face of a continuous tirade against ‘the little slut’ and ‘that whore’ and ‘the bitch’.

  When Kramer could put up with it no longer she said, ‘Mrs. Walsh, I know Jane DeForrest. I’ve worked with her for over six months and I do not recognise any of her in the person you are describing.’

  Lyndsey fixed Kramer with a horrified stare. ‘You said you worked for Homeland Security.’

  ‘We do,’ Kramer said.

  ‘Then that means she works there too?’

  ‘It does,’ Kramer said, stretching the truth a little.

  ‘You mean she’s a line of defence guarding this country?’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’ Lyndsey Walsh almost spat at Kramer.

  ‘Your husband...’ Ben started to say.

  ‘Don’t call him that,’ Lyndsey said with venom.

  ‘Mr Walsh and Miss DeForrest may have acquired information that has put them in danger.’ Ben tried a different tack.

  ‘Good.’

  Ben sighed. ‘We’re looking for them. Is there anywhere you know that Mr Walsh might go to if he needed to stay out of sight. Friends, relations, that kind of thing.’

  ‘How should I know? I thought I knew him and then it turned out I didn’t because he was screwing a twenty-something redhead behind my back.’

  ‘We’d like you to help us,’ Ben said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘If Mr Walsh dies are you the beneficiary of his will?’ Kramer asked.

  ‘Of course I am. I’m his wife.’

  ‘Well, actually,’ Ben said, picking up on Kramer’s question. ‘You’re soon to be his ex-wife. Maybe he changed his will recently, or had already put in a clause to leave money to Miss DeForrest and her daughter.’

  Lyndsey Walsh’s eyes widened as the thought wormed its way into her head. ‘No.’

  ‘It’s a possibility,’ Kramer said. ‘His life may be in danger. If he dies and he has changed his will you might get nothing.’

  ‘But if he lives,’ Ben said. ‘Then you get to divorce him and get a settlement on the money he made from his books.’

  Narrowing eyes told Ben and Kramer all they needed to know. Lyndsey Walsh considered the two Homeland Security agents and said, ‘Sometimes, when he was close to finishing a book or needed space to edit one he went up north into Wisconsin. He rented a cabin in the woods. He said it gave him the solitude and peace and quiet he needed to finish it. Me, I think he used the place as a love nest to hump his little slut of a girlfriend.’

  ‘Do you have an address?’ Kramer asked.

  Lyndsey sniffed. ‘Somewhere.’

  ‘Can you get it for us?’

  ‘Could he really die?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ben said.

  ‘It’s in his paperwork. I’ll go look it out.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Kramer slumped back in her chair as Lyndsey left the room. ‘Holy shit but she’s a vindictive woman.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Ben rubbed his dry eyes. ‘Remind me, if I ever get married, not to have an affair.’

  ‘You think you could keep two women satisfied?’ Kramer asked.

  ‘It might be nice trying,’ Ben said.

  ‘If either of them turned out like Lyndsey Walsh you’d die trying,’ Kramer said with a smile.

  ‘Well, I’d like to think that the woman I marry will be my partner for life,’ Ben said.

  Kramer raised her eyebrows. ‘Why are you looking at me when you say that?’

  ‘Because we’re having a conversation,’ Ben said. ‘What do you want me to do, look the other way when I say something to you?’

  Lyndsey Walsh’s return cut short Kramer’s reply. She took the slip of paper Lyndsey shoved into her hand and said, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘If you catch up with him tell him my percentage just went up another ten points.’

  ‘We’ll be sure to,’ Ben said.

  There were no goodbyes. The soon to be ex-Mrs Walsh slammed the door shut behind them. They’d parked their Suburban. Sitting in it, Kramer started programming the Sat-Nav with the address. Ben studied the house and said, ‘I think she needs counselling.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So are you volunteering to go back inside and tell her that?’

  ‘Well in this case I think she needs to discover that fact for herself. Don’t you?’

  ‘I agree.’ Kramer grinned. ‘Or maybe you’re just a coward.’

  ‘On balance,’ Ben said as Kramer started the car. ‘I think cowardice is preferable to getting my head ripped off by a bitter divorcee.’

  ‘On balance,’ Kramer said. ‘I think you’re right.’

  ***

  Ben used Google Earth to take a look at the cabin’s location as they drove north. It sat in a loop of similar structures on the shore of a small lake north of Grand Rapids, Minnesota. The sat-nav had calculated a drive time of over 8 hours. Kramer decided to take the first two. Once Ben identified the cabin and checked the geography of the surrounding area he put his seat back to catch some sleep.

  He woke to the sound of Kramer talking hands-free with General Dawson. The General’s meaty voice came out of the Suburban’s speakers and made it feel like he sat behind them. Ben pushed himself upright as he tuned into the conversation. It didn’t take long to learn there had been another incident. ‘Can you email Ben the location?’ Kramer asked.

  ‘Already sent.’

  ‘He’s just woken up,’ Kramer said with a smile. ‘He’s checking his phone now.’

  ‘Don’t let this delay you. The state trooper on scene said the family left while he was taking a phone call. He’s no idea where they are, but if Mrs Walsh is correct we do know. So take a quick look but priority is tracking down Emily.’

  ‘Understood,’ Kramer ended the call.

  ‘What happened?’ Ben asked as he read the email.

  ‘A girl was snatched from a diner. There were a dozen or more witnesses, including a state trooper, who chased the perpetrator and shot him before he could harm the girl.’

  ‘And this was Emily?’

  ‘Almost certainly. He reported hearing the girl’s mother referring to her by that name.’

  ‘We should get a helicopter and fly up,’ Ben said. ‘By the time we get there they could have moved on.’

  ‘We’ve got no field offices up there. We need transport, so taking this vehicle is the best way of getting about.’

  Ben started re-programming the sat-nav. ‘How about putting your foot down?’ he asked.

  ‘How about you go back to sleep?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Ben said. ‘I can get back to dreaming about you.’

  ‘Oh, Jesus.’ Kramer made a gagging sound. ‘I feel sick.’

/>   Ben laughed, pushed his seat back again and closed his eyes.

  ***

  Jane stood on the veranda of a two-storey log cabin and shivered in the thin morning sunlight. She looked out on a mix of pine forest and water. The lake shimmered with reflected light. In that glare she could see a boat carrying two fishermen. A narrow lane of hardstanding and earth crossed in front of the cabin. A wide gravel driveway led up to the cabin. Hurley’s pick stood on the gravel. The old man kept his promise to Emily and the two had walked on up to Hurley’s own home to feed his animals. Part of Jane wished she had gone with them. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Hurley. It came more from wanting to be close to her daughter and keep her safe.

  Not that you kept her safe at the diner, an inner voice said.

  Jane turned away from the lake in an attempt to ignore the voice. She stepped into the interior of the cabin. Her eyes took a few moments to get used to the shade after the brightness outside. She walked through to the kitchen where Pete prepared lunch.

  ‘Try not to worry,’ Pete said. ‘Hurley is the kind of guy you’d want around in a crisis.’

  ‘Is that what this is?’ Jane asked. ‘A crisis?’

  ‘Pretty much.’ Pete tried to give her a reassuring smile but failed. ‘I’m thinking we can’t stay in one place too long so coming here may be just a brief stop to gather our thoughts.’

  ‘I said it before,’ Jane said as she walked over to him. ‘But I’m sorry I brought this on you.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ Pete put his arms around her.

  Jane settled against him. She could feel his heartbeat and the steady rhythm gave her a sense of security she hadn’t felt in a long time. Pete kissed the top of her head. Jane smiled and leant back to look up into his eyes. ‘So do you own this place?’

  ‘Kind of.’ Pete looked a little embarrassed.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘When I wrote Rainbow Creek, I had the main character on the run from the Feds and the Mob. He lived in a remote cabin that few people knew existed. So for research I came up this way and ended up in a local bar talking to Hurley. He’s one of the locals who live off the grid. Some people would call him a redneck but he’s just a guy trying to live his way with minimum interference from the government. Anyway, to cut a long story short he said it was possible to build a cabin up here and live in it without anyone knowing. I used money from royalties to buy another cabin ten miles away. I did a deal with a landowner to take this plot off his hand. Hurley and his boys built this place with cash I gave them. A woman who lives the other side of Hurley helped out with other things. I rigged up a way of getting the phone at the other cabin to route on to here. Lyndsey, my agent, friends and anyone else who cares think I live in the other cabin for a few months of the year when actually I am here.’

  ‘So this other woman?’ Jane put on a mock jealous tone. ‘Is she a rival for your affections?’

  Pete laughed. ‘Imagine the archetypal hillbilly old woman and you’ll have Ma Jacobs to a tee. Somewhere north of seventy, all skin and bones. Where most folks her age are carrying a walking stick she carries a shotgun. I think she even takes it to bed with her to protect her honour.’

  Jane went on tiptoe and kissed Pete. ‘So it’s just me then?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Pete said with a sigh. ‘And I wish I’d faced up to the truth years ago.’

  Jane pressed into his chest again. She closed her eyes and savoured the moment alone with him. He had a strength she adored, and here in this cabin she felt at home with him with the smell of fresh chicken on the worktop and the sound of birdsong coming through the open window. ‘I love you,’ she said.

  Pete squeezed the air from her lungs and lifted her onto the kitchen table. Jane sat and enjoyed the touch of his hands as he ran his fingers through her hair and down her neck. When he started unbuttoning her shirt she said, ‘No, Emily and Hurley might come back.’

  Pete mumbled something that could have been disappointment. He tilted her head back and looked into her eyes. ‘From now on I’m never going to leave you or Emily. You’re my family now.’

  Jane put her hands around his neck and pulled Pete down into a kiss. She lost herself in the moment. His hands became busy again and the idle thought drifted through her mind that maybe there would be time before Emily got back. That’s when a thin voice said, ‘Is this research for a new book, Walsh?’

  Pete jumped back in surprise and Jane felt her face redden as she pulled her shirt straight. Jane knew in an instant that Ma Jacobs stood in the doorway. Pete’s description matched the stick-thin old woman. She had grey hair pulled back in a tight bun and penetrating blue eyes that fixed on Jane like a hawk. But the shotgun resting across her elbow gave her away. ‘Hello, Ma,’ Pete said.

  ‘Well hello yourself but I have to say I’m kind of disappointed that you never got me onto that table.’

  ‘What can I say?’ Pete spread his hand in apology.

  ‘You can say sorry and then introduce me.’ Ma came into the room. She swung the shotgun up so the barrel rested on her shoulder. ‘This ain’t your wife is it?’

  ‘No, this isn’t Lyndsey. This is Jane. She’s the reason Lyndsey is divorcing me.’

  A bony hand came out to shake Jane’s. ‘Pleased to meetcha,’ Ma said. ‘Hurley told me you were here. He’s got your little girl up with him, hey?’

  ‘Yes. Emily.’ Jane still felt hot at being caught out like that.

  Ma nodded, looked at the chicken and said, ‘You still ain’t learnt to cook.’

  ‘No,’ Pete admitted.

  Ma sighed. She rested the shotgun against the worktop and said, ‘You two get yourselves a drink. I’ll sort this and when Hurley gets back with the girl we can have lunch. Then you can tell me what’s going on with folks getting shot and the police on the lookout for you.’

  ***

  As she listened to Pete tell the story of their flight from Westchester and the incident at the diner Jane wondered if it had happened to someone else. She watched Hurley and Ma Jacobs. Neither seemed particularly surprised or even disbelieving. Especially when Pete told them about Emily and her special talent. Jane felt disconnected from the events, as if they had happened to a third person.

  At the end of the tale, Hurley said to Jane, ‘Tell us about the government people.’

  Jane told them about Emily’s visions. How at first they’d arrested her and then recruited Emily into the almost unbelievable world of psychic secret agents. Hurley and Ma exchanged a glance and Hurley said, ‘The Feds’ll do anything, use anyone, to get what they want. Even a little girl like Emily. And now here you are, in danger, and they’ve abandoned you.’

  ‘I don’t think they’ve abandoned us,’ Jane said. ‘I just don’t think they know where we are. And the scenes we saw on the television of the shoot-out in Seattle? That makes me think they have more important things to think about than us.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Ma said, waving a chicken leg in Jane’s direction. To Hurley, she said, ‘Nothing’s more important to the Feds than this little girl. They’ll be looking for her, but on the quiet. They’ll use drones and satellites and eavesdrop on telephone calls. The NSA, the CIA and the FBI will be all over this area since the attempt to snatch Emily. Question is, do you want them to find you?’

  Jane looked at Pete. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Part of me wants them to protect us. But then part of me thinks we’ll be an even bigger target. If we can spot the danger here, then we can run. If we’re stuck in some big military base somewhere then there’s nowhere to run. That’s what happened to the people we left behind at Kenyon. It was a trap and they got slaughtered.’

  ‘So you stay here,’ Ma said. ‘Hurley built some neat stuff into the cabin and the grounds when he put it together. Him and his boys can stand guard and I’ll move into the guest room for a few nights as an extra.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Jane said.

  Both Hurley and Ma laughed. ‘Course we have to,’ Ma
said. ‘You don’t think we’re gonna let Pete have all the fun of shooting vermin do you?’

  Jane’s eyes grew wet with tears. ‘You would do that for us? You hardly know us.’

  Ma waved the chicken leg again. ‘See, it’s like this. We met Pete here and got to like him. If we like someone then we’ll look after them. And once, when he was here, we all got drunk on sour mash whisky and he told us about this girl and her daughter. We knew about you and Emily and what you mean to Pete. Sure, some of it was the whisky talking. But Hurley and I came away thinking this girl could do wonders for Pete if only he knew it.’

  As Ma talked Jane turned to Pete. He came and sat next to her on the couch. Jane rested her head on his shoulder. Emily came over and sat next to her mother. Jane forgot for a moment about all the troubles because she felt like they were a family.

  The sound of an engine approaching along with the press of tyres on gravel brought Jane back to the present. Hurley and Ma were on their feet. Ma took the shotgun to the front door while Hurley produced a huge silver handgun from under the folds of his checked shirt. He placed himself halfway between Ma and the couch Jane sat on. Ma cracked the door open and peered through the gap. Jane saw her relax as she said, ‘It’s the boys.’

  They all went outside to meet Edwin and Joshua. Hurley’s sons came out of the pick-up laughing about how they gave Barry the Trooper the slip. They’d then dumped Pete’s car twenty miles away at a south bound rest stop. ‘Anyone finds it they’ll keep looking in that area. Gives you a decent head start,’ Edwin said.

  Pete invited the boys in for lunch and while they were eating Jane took Emily upstairs to freshen up. She left her daughter to change her clothes and went to look out of the window. The fishermen still floated out on the lake. It looked like they were doing more sunbathing than fishing. Jane smiled. She could get to like this place. The peace, the quiet and the view plus the fact that it would be just Pete, Emily and her.