Deception Road

by Peggy Staggs

  Don hit the call bell on the counter so hard it bounced. Behind the front desk on a stone wall, in bronze letters, was the name Winston Motel. A minute later a sleepy-eyed man in his early twenties yawned as he walked up to the counter. His crooked nametag read ‘Jimmy.’ “Good evening, would you like a room?”

  “We need information about some people who checked out yesterday,” Don demanded.

  “I can’t give that out.” Jimmy stood firm.

  Don took out his CIA credentials and flipped them open. “This is urgent. A man was kidnapped earlier this morning.” He shifted, so his jacket opened so the butt of his gun showed.

  Don presented an intimidating figure.

  The clerk watched Don with anxiety filled eyes. Jimmy tugged at his brown clip-on tie so hard it nearly came off in his hand. “They’ll fire me. I can’t—”

  “Son, a man’s life is at stake.”

  The six-year difference in our ages stretched out between Don and me. Those years had me thinking of the clerk as a guy and Don thinking of him as a kid.

  Jimmy’s eyes bulged with fear. “I’ve got to call my boss.”

  Don stepped closer to the counter. For an instant, I thought he’d reach out and grab Jimmy by the shirt. “We don’t have time. Tell me about the two men who were in this room.” He slid the evidence bag across the desk. “Unless you’d like to spend your youth in federal prison for obstruction.”

  In the dark at Jack’s, I hadn’t seen the receipt at all. Bloodstains soiled the paper.

  Jimmy’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.” He moved to the terminal behind the counter. “I don’t have much.” We could see the screen. “Only their names and addresses. The usual stuff.”

  Don wrote down the information. “Do you have surveillance cameras?”

  “Yes, sir.” He tugged at his tie. This time, it came off. “They’ve been broken for a week.”

  Don took out his cell phone, pressed a couple of buttons then turned it toward Jimmy. “This one of the men?”

  Jimmy’s mouth fell open. “Is he dead?”

  “Yes. Is he one of them?”

  Jimmy managed a nod as his face grew pale.

  Don swiped to the next picture. “And this one?”

  Another nod. Jimmy’s complexion now mirrored the color of the snow outside.

  “Thank you.” Don walked to the door. “Coming?” he said to me.

  Outside, I said, “You scared him half to death.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  It had, but I figured we could have gotten the same information with a lot less intimidation. “If those names aren’t phony, and the credit card isn’t stolen, it’ll be a miracle,” I said as we got back in the car.

  “Won’t matter.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “It’s the little things, the automatic ones I’m hoping they overlooked—” Into his phone, he said, “Don March. Clearance number A5595JB7. Run this information.” He read the two names and gave the license plate number. “The plate first. No, it’s a rush. Call me as soon as you have something.”

  “What now?” I was in no the mood to hang around doing nothing. “Should I call Brad Hughes and give him the information, too?”

  “If it makes you happy.” His manner was still borderline dismissive. As if he were talking to someone who didn’t have the full picture or the capacity to understand it if they did. Don hadn’t changed.

  I pulled Jack’s phone from my pocket, pressed Brad’s number. I gave him the information.

  “I’m sorry. They’ve closed the roads into your area in both directions. I don’t know if we’ll be able to get to you today. Tomorrow isn’t shaping up any better. It all depends on when the snow stops.” I heard the regret in his voice. “I’ll run the plate and let you know.” He paused. “You call me with anything. I’ll be here.”

  “Thank you.” No one was coming. Don, was it.

  Brad cleared his throat. “If I can find anyway—anyway at all, I’ll be there. Keep in touch.”

  “Thanks, Brad. I’ll call if there’s a change.” We hung up. “Jane.”

  “What?” Don stared at me.

  “Jane. I promised her I’d call.” I pulled out my cell this time.

  She picked up on the first ring.

  I told her what we’d found and what we’d done.

  “I’m going to call Stan.”

  “He’ll only worry.” I paused. Uncle Stan only gave nicknames to those he cared a great deal for. I had one, my brother Cole had one, and Jack had one. “On second thought, call him, I don’t know what he can do, but he should know what’s going on.”

  “I will, right now.”

  “Tell him we’re doing everything we can,” I said. “With this storm, I don’t know if he’s going to be able to get here for Christmas. I don’t know about the Boise airport, but the Jackson airport is closed. So is the one in Driggs. None of that matters because all the roads into this area are closed.” I held the phone with both hands as if I could glean some warmth from it.

  Jane made me promise to be careful and to call. We hung up. It wasn’t a bad idea for her to call Uncle Stan. He was one of the three men Don had accused of...what? Other than they’d supposedly made their fortunes from it. Whatever it was.

  “Don, we can’t sit here hoping a computer somewhere will come up with what we need.”

  “I still don’t have any contacts here,” he said.

  “Wait.” I got out and hurried back inside. Don followed. “Hi, Jimmy.” I smiled at him, hoping it would erase some of Don’s intimidation. “Have you seen the guys we asked about other than at the motel?”

  “Yeah.” He held onto the edge of the counter. “I saw them at the store on Saturday. They had a bunch of snack stuff, some colored nylon rope and a couple of cases of bottled water. I figured they were getting ready to hit the road. But, they didn’t leave until yesterday.” He’d answered a little too quickly. He’d probably been thinking about it while we were outside.

  “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful,” I said.

  Jimmy glanced up at Don. “He’s not going to arrest me, is he?” he whispered.

  “No.”

  Don rolled his eyes.

  Back in the car, I said, “Interesting.”

  “It might mean a lot of things. Your scared little friend would have told us Martians were in room 109 to get us out of there.” He watched the snow gather on the hood of the SUV. “This weather changes things.”

  “Wait, they’re local. The plate number is from this county.” I took a shuddering breath. “Do you realize how much area is out there? Desert filled with miles and miles of nothing but grass, rocks, and sand. Now it’s under several feet of snow, we can’t even get to most of the ranches.” I leaned back, letting my head fall against the headrest. “At least they aren’t your terrorists.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  Last night on the news, they’d said we were in for snow. Too bad they hadn’t mentioned it was coming in the form of a hundred-year blizzard. “Of course, if no one can get in, no one can get out. With this weather, whoever has Jack has to be close by.”

  A gust of wind rocked the SUV sending a curtain of snow into the air. I sat there, in a storm, with my ex-fiancé trying to find my...what?

  Out of the blue, Don reached for me. “I love you.”

  I shied away.

  “I have to say this.” He exhaled and let his hand drop. “I’m sorry. I wanted you so badly. I could tell you were going to leave me. I thought if you had no other choice you’d stay with me.”

  And...he’d skipped right over the whole cheating and near rape thing. The console separated us. Thank God. The snow swirled up around the parking lot lights. I struggled to sort out my thoughts and emotions. I wasn’t any good to anyone if I got caught up in a useless battle with Don. I needed to focus on my goal. Finding Jack.

  Jack’s phone rang startling me. “Hello.”

  “Doctor Marku
s? It’s Phyllis.” I could hear her as she took a sobbing breath. “Something horrible just happened. They pitched a rock through the window. There’s something tied to it—” She wept — “and it’s all bloody.”

  “We’re on our way. Call Luke.” I trembled as I hit the start button then seized the gearshift. I slammed the car into reverse. It skidded, nearly taking out two vehicles.

  “Let me drive.” Don’s voice was unruffled. “I’d like to make it wherever we’re going in one piece.” We changed places. “Who was on the phone?” he asked as he calmly drove out of the parking lot.

  Chapter Five

  A CSU vehicle occupied one of the parking spaces in front of the Sheriff’s Office.

  I stepped out into the deepening snow. The wind thrashed against the building, sending snow past me and into the broken window. Someone had taped an evidence bag over the hole. I struggled to compartmentalize everything. Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder to cram emotions into the cubby hole.

  Inside, the pine garland around the entry filled the office with the fresh scent of Christmas. Phyllis sat at her desk, her back purposely toward Luke. Lois lay on the floor beside her. The Merry Christmas letters taped to the front of her desk hung loose on one end.

  The sound of the jingle bells on the door brought Lois to her feet. She hurried over to me, her toenails clicking on the tile floor, and her tail wagging. I knelt and wrapped my arms around her neck. “It’ll be okay. You’re a good girl,” I whispered. She rewarded me by sticking her nose in my ear. I kissed the top of her nose then let her go.

  Luke and another CSU tech were hunched over one of the desks. “Luke,” I called.

  He straightened and silently faced me. As he did, he blocked the item on the desk.

  “What—what is it?” My imagination had been spinning since we’d left Mullen. In my mind’s eye, I’d seen everything from Jack’s bloody hand to his still-beating heart tied to the rock. Rational thought had played no part in any of it.

  “It doesn’t make sense.” Luke stepped aside. “It’s not a ransom note.”

  A rock lay on the gray composite surface of the desk. Beside it, a note spattered with blood.

  Don took out a pen and slid the note around to face him. “How long ago did this happen?”

  “I called Doctor Markus right after.” Phyllis came over. Her bright red sweater had a fuzzy green and white Christmas tree knitted into the front of it. The tiny silver bells dotted around the tree should have made a happy noise. Instead, they sounded tinny.

  The bloody yellow sheet read: He will pay for his crimes.

  “It’s printed crudely,” Don pointed out. “Probably to disguise the handwriting.” I heard the hesitation in his voice.

  I couldn’t take my eyes from the words. “What crimes?”

  “Not here.” To the CSU technicians, Don asked, “What facilities do you have?”

  “A small lab,” Luke said. “We do the basics, and send the complicated stuff to Boise.”

  Don dropped the evidence bag with the receipt in it on the desk. He wrote his cell number on one of his cards and handed it to Luke. “How long will this take?”

  “The sheriff is our priority.”

  “Luke.” I pulled my gaze from the desktop. “Do you know a guy named Jimmy? He works at the Winston Motel.”

  “Yeah. He dated my sister a couple of times last summer.”

  “What do you think of him?”

  He gave a one shoulder shrug. “He’s okay.”

  “Nothing stands out about him?” I asked.

  “Besides, he’s a loser. No. Why?”

  “We talked to him earlier,” I said fixing my attention on him to block out what lay on the desk. “Is he trustworthy?”

  “I didn’t like him much. He’s taking online classes in accounting, I think.”

  “Thanks. If you come up with anything—” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t make the words form in my mind.

  Luke’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “I’ll do my best for the sheriff.” He regarded Don. “And you,” he whispered.

  “I want a copy of the note,” Don ordered.

  Luke’s nod was almost a salute. “I’ll let you know what we find out.” He looked at Don’s card before he put it in his pocket and went to make a copy.

  Don left the central area and entered Jack’s office. The room sits in the center of the larger space. The top two-thirds of the three walls are glass. The bottom is regular wall. Through the open louvered wooden blinds, I could see Don standing where Jack should be.

  I leaned against Phyllis’s desk. On the opposite corner, a bowl molded in the shape of a Santa head sat half empty. The brightly wrapped Christmas candy dulled in the early morning despair. “What do you know about Jack?”

  “Rumor has it you know him a lot better than I do.” Her smile had a gossipy flare about it.

  There was nothing to know. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” The grapevine in Spirit Springs rivals the internet for speed and accuracy. They both get it right about half the time, with some outlets more reliable than others. I figured Phyllis had the inside track. “I mean before he came here.”

  She glanced at me, then looked down at Lois. “Not much. He doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

  I knew he’d been an Army medic. It had come in handy when we were stranded on the mountain south of town. His skills were good, but what saved us was his fully stocked Army aid bag. When I’d asked what he’d done in the Army, I’d gotten a cryptic, ‘my job.’ It’s a typical response from guys who didn’t want to or weren’t able to talk about what they’d done. I figured it had a lot more to do with him being Delta Force.

  I watched Don as he stood behind Jack’s desk moving papers around. His posture reminded me of when I’d seen him standing next to Jack at the bar last night. It felt like a million years ago. Their faces, coloring, and mannerisms were different, but if they’d been in silhouette, I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. I must have a physical type. Okay, seriously? Who wouldn’t want a tall, strong, well-built guy? They’re both alphas, both in incredible shape, and both great looking. Okay, Jack was a lot more handsome, but then, I wasn’t entirely unbiased.

  What had brought these two opposite men together? Were they as different as they appeared?

  “Doctor Markus?” Luke drew my attention.

  “Ensley, please.” I figured we should be on a first name basis.

  “Ensley, I have everything. I’ll process this as fast as I can. Everyone is off for Christmas, so it’s just me and Carl there. He’s new but pretty good.”

  “Thank you,” was all I said.

  “You’re going to find him, aren’t you?” Phyllis put her hand on my arm.

  “I don’t know how to do this alone.” Alone. The word echoed in my mind. For the first time since I’d been in Spirit Springs, I felt alone. In D. C., loneliness hadn’t been a stranger. The only close friend I had was Soph, my research assistant. Soph and I did a lot together; we ran three times a week, and we’d gone on vacation together. I ate Sunday dinner with her family. The Bianchi’s all insisted I was now one of them. If I didn’t call Mama on Sunday, she called first thing Monday morning to enquire where to send flowers because I was either in a coma or dead. Those were the only excuses she’d accept.

  No, the loneliness came when I’d been with Don. I don’t know why it took me a long time to figure it out.

  “You’ve got him.” Luke indicated Don.

  “I do.” I hoped Don would turn out to be more helpful than he had been so far. I hoped he was doing his best right now, and his desire for me to go back to D. C., with him wasn’t standing between what he wanted and what I needed.

  “I’ve got to get these back to the lab.”

  “Thanks.” I knew the smile I gave him held more gloom than cheer, but it was the best I could manage.

  Luke left, and Phyllis went to her desk as my—Jack’s phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Ens
ley. Brad. The license plate number you gave me comes back to Max Jessen. I’ve checked, and his wife is still in Boise. She’s trying to get the judge to reconsider bail for him. No chance I’ll let it happen.”

  “Whoever has Jack threw a rock with a note attached to it through the window of the police station.” The desk where the CSU techs had been sat empty. “It says, ‘He will pay for his crimes.’ It’s bloody.” I waited a beat, not sure if I should ask the next question. I knew one thing, the man on the phone had known Jack for a long time. Now, did I have enough left in me to hear his answer? I walked away from Phyllis’s desk. “What crimes are they talking about?”

  Silence.

  I gripped the phone with both hands. “Please, Brad.”

  “He hasn’t committed any crimes. You know he’s not that kind of man.”

  “I do.” The words slipped out softly betraying my lack of confidence. It wasn’t that I believed Jack was a criminal, it was more my dismal history judging men’s character.

  “He’s turned down assignments he thought were unethical.” Brad laughed. “He has a reputation, and they don’t—” I could hear the oh-shit in his pause. “Let’s just say it’s a problem sometimes. Not for him, but those in charge. The ones who are always sure they know what’s best for everyone.” I heard him chuckle. “I love it when they’re wrong, and he tells them so just before he says no.”

  “I need to know who we’re dealing with.” There was no logic to any of this. “One of the dead men at Jack’s had a terrorist tattoo on his chest. Don told me he was sending Jack on an exchange with an operative who’d infiltrated a radical group. Could they be the one’s holding him?”

  A long deep silence stretched between us. Finally, he said, “Let me speak to March.” His voice held a stiff, formal note. I pictured him standing at attention.

  I walked into Jack’s office and held out Jack’s phone. “Brad Hughes wants to talk to you.”

  Don frowned as he took the phone from me. “March. I know perfectly well what the directive says. This is a unique circumstance. Hold on—I don’t appreciate being—go right ahead. I received special permission. Do not talk to me like I’m—” Don pulled the phone away from his ear and shoved it at me. “You talk to him.”