by Karen Ward
Melanie takes a deep breath, “All right, I guess the first thing I need to tell you ... well, that you need to know is ... well, several years ago, Bixby got drunk and in his drunken rage sliced open her face with a knife from just below her left eye all the way around her cheek bone and down to the corner of her mouth.” She uses her finger to trace the path of the scar on her own face. “I sewed it back together for her but she developed a bad infection and it burst open. It took weeks to heal and I thought for a long time she might die. Now she has a really bad scar that covers most of that side of her face making her eye droop and she has lost all feeling and movement on that side of her face. She is really embarrassed by it.”
Pausing she looks into his eyes and sees tears gathering in his lashes.
He says, “What else?”
She takes another deep breath and continues, “Pinky, James Bixby is an animal, just like Darren was. He beats her regularly, usually a couple times per week. I have seen her with black eyes and numerous bruises on her face, arms, and legs. A few times she acted like she was having trouble breathing so she’s probably had broken ribs too.”
Taking another deep breath, looking down at her hands and then gazing out the window, she continues, “He forces sexual intimacy on her nearly every night. She told me he likes it rough and he makes her do things, disgusting things a normal man wouldn’t ever even think about. I heard from some of the other women at the compound that James likes to have orgies and I know of several times three or four men would go into their cabin and stay for hours. I use to hear her screaming sometimes but she never would talk to me about it.”
Tears in her voice now, she continues, “He also mentally abuses her. I know he is constantly telling her things similar to what Darren told me.”
Pinky interrupts, “What kind of things?”
“Oh, you know, like no one will ever want her when he is through with her. She is an ugly whore unworthy of anyone’s love or respect. No one can stand to look at her because of her ugly scar. She belongs to him and he will kill her if she ever lets another man touch her without his permission. Also like me, she was very young when she was kidnapped so I am sure she has just as many subconscious hang ups as I did, if not more. It will take a lot of patience and maybe years of counseling for her to recover fully and that is if, and this is a big if, she is even still alive. If Bixby tires of her, he won’t think twice about killing her.”
When she stops talking and looks back at Pinky she sees the tears streaming down his face. He shakes his head and says, “How can anyone ever recover from something like that? How can anyone even survive something like that? It’s been fifteen years Melanie, fifteen! I feel so damn guilty for not searching for her when she first disappeared, but I really believed she was dead! I thought the damn curse had struck again.”
Melanie’s heart is breaking at the pain she sees on Pinky’s face and hears in his voice. She lays her hand on his arm and she says, “Pinky, this is not your fault! James Bixby is the only one at fault here. He intentionally misled you into believing she was dead. What’s important now is that we find her and try to get her away from him! Let’s be thankful that Eric saw that picture on the computer and recognized her. At least now you know she is alive.”
Nodding his head, Pinky says, “You’re right, Melanie. I’ve wallowed in self pity for fifteen years. It’s time for me to take positive action. Thanks.”
He stands to leave but Melanie places her hand on his arm interrupting his exit and asks, “What curse?”
Surprised because he didn’t even realize he had mentioned the curse, Pinky explains, “Oh, my grandfather was cursed by an old Creole woman years ago. According to the curse all of his male descendents will be unhappy in love. At the time Jasmine disappeared the curse seemed to be very potent and I believed in it. I never even questioned her death.”
Melanie looks skeptically at Pinky and asks, “You don’t still believe in all of the curse stuff, do you?”
Smiling Pinky says, “No, I understand now that we are responsible for our own destinies. Thanks Melanie.” As he walks out of the house and heads back to the office over the barn he picks up his cell phone and calls his contact at the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms in Washington DC. He wants them to check with their operatives in the field to see if they can get any information about James Bixby and where he might be living.
The ATF agent says, “What’s up Pinky? Why all this interest in James Bixby? From what I’ve heard he’s just a peon in the organization with no authority. He’s not even well liked by the other members.”
Pinky explains, “I have reason to believe the woman living with him was kidnapped from Louisiana fifteen years ago. I want to try to get her back to her loved ones.”
The agent asks, “Really? Where did you get a piece of information like that? We haven’t had any kidnapping reports associated with the militia like that.”
Pinky answers, “You won’t find a report about her being kidnapped. We always thought she died in the swamp, eaten by a gator. I only recently found out she is alive and living with Bixby in the militia compounds.”
The agent asks, “You sound like you know this woman?”
Pinky says, his voice cracking, “I was engaged to her when she disappeared.”
The agent says, “Ah ... that explains your interest then. I’ll see what I can find out. How did you dig up a piece of information like this?”
Pinky explains, “Eric Calloway saw our prom picture on my computer and recognized her as having been at the compound in Idaho. Melanie Farrady said she and Bixby left Idaho before she escaped. She thought they were going to Montana, but we don’t know for sure.”
“Give me a couple of days, I’ll find out what I can,” says the agent.
******
It’s only late September but it is already freezing cold in the mountains of the northwest corner of Montana along the Idaho border. It feels like it could start snowing at any time. I shiver inside my thin jacket as I hurry across the compound to the cabin I share with James Bixby. I have been in the cooking shack cleaning up from lunch and now I want to make sure there is plenty of wood for the wood stove to keep the cabin warm.
This is the smallest of the three compounds that James and I have ever lived in. Six men and three women share the four cabins. With no running water or electricity life here is very primitive. I long for a good long soak in a hot tub of water but I know that won’t be happening any time soon. Ever since James twisted my arm three weeks ago I haven’t been able to haul more than small buckets of water from the creek and James is not about to help with the women’s work. God, I hate that man! At least he keeps the wood box full and food on the table, I can be grateful for that much.
As I am hurrying across the compound I hear James bellow, “Jasmine!”
“Here I am James, what do you want?” I call back.
I follow James Bixby back to our cabin where I help him find the backpack he is looking for. I ask, my heart pounding, “Are you going somewhere?”
“Not me, us. We’re leaving here tomorrow. You need to get everything packed tonight.”
“Why James, we just got here!” I am distressed because I have felt relatively safe here, unlike the other two compounds where we have lived. I only have to fear James here.
“I said so! That’s all you need to know Bitch!” growls James. “I suppose you’d rather stay here and become the live-in whore for those two single guys. Well, you belong to me, Jasmine, only me and don’t you forget it!”
A cold shiver runs down my spine at the anger I hear in his voice. I begin gathering our things together and stuffing everything into the boxes and bags we use every time we move.
Bixby is standing beside the bed watching her movements through hooded eyes. Damn but she is still a beautiful woman and even after fifteen years he can’t seem to get his fill of her. He interrupts her activities demanding, “Woman, get over here and give your man some lovin’. I need fo
r you to show me how much you love me.”
I swallow the bile that automatically rises in my throat. Forcing a smile to my face, I stop what I am doing and walk across the cabin to where he is standing. I reach up placing my arms around his thick neck and kiss him with the fake enthusiasm I know he expects. I unbutton his flannel shirt running my hands over his still muscular shoulders and down his chest saying, “Oh, James, I love you so much!”
I kiss him again as I unfasten his pants and let them fall to his ankles. Then I wrap my fingers around his semi-flaccid shaft and caress him. I push him back toward the bed, “Lay down Sugar Bear and let me love you.” When he sits down on the bed, I remove his boots, then his pants and shirt.
Smiling lecherously as he looks at her from the bed, James says, “Strip for me Jasmine, I like to watch you strip.” As he watches her remove her clothes his hand is massaging his limp shaft.
I stand in front of him and slowly remove my clothes piece by piece moving provocatively pretending to be a stripper, teasing him as I uncover each part of my body. When I am naked I approach the bed but am stopped cold by his next words.
“Not so fast, I want you to suck me Sugar.”
I look down at the floor so my hair forms a veil shielding my face as I struggle to hide my revulsion. I sink to the floor at his feet, again swallowing down the bile rising in my throat.
CHAPTER 4
As promised, two days after his original call the ATF agent from Washington DC calls Pinky’s cell phone and he answers, “Pinky.”
“Hey Pinky, I got that information you wanted. After Bixby left the compound in Idaho he moved to one on Flathead Lake in Montana. They stayed at the compound on Flathead Lake for almost three years but left six months ago. No one seems to know for sure where they went but it is thought they went to a small compound on the Montana-Idaho border near Sandpoint. From what I am told he is with a woman named Jasmine, long red hair, about thirty.”
Pinky, his heart pounding with relief to know she is still alive, says, “Well, at least that gives me a starting point. Thanks for your help and let me know if you hear anything else.”
The agent says, “Pinky, I need to warn you that he was told to leave the compound at Flathead Lake because he wouldn’t stop talking about retaliating against the men that killed Darren Calloway. It seems that he wanted to be the one to kill Calloway and you guys beat him to it. He has gathered as much information as he can about where you guys live and how you operate. If you’re patient he may come right to your door.”
Pinky asks, “Do you have any operatives at the small compound near Sandpoint?”
The agent answers, “No, it is thought to be two brothers and four other men including Bixby. They split off from the original compound in Idaho where Calloway was in charge. Evidently, these men all hated Calloway for one reason or another. I don’t know if Bixby is trying to convince them to help him get to you guys or not.”
“Do you have any information about what he drives or how they travel?” asks Pinky.
The agent replies, “The only information I have is from six months ago. He was driving a 1970’s era Chevy pickup, blue and white with a camper on the back. Evidently he stays in the camper when he’s on the road.”
“That’s good to know. Thanks,” responds Pinky.
******
Pinky walks into the office, sits down at the computer, and checks the weather in Sandpoint, Idaho. Heavy snow is predicted overnight. Damn! A storm means he can’t fly to Idaho tonight. He’ll have to wait until tomorrow and see what the weather is like then.
Scoot seeing Pinky’s frustration says, “Hey Pinky, what’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Pinky looks up from the computer and says, “I just got word that Bixby is thought to be at a compound near Sandpoint, Idaho and I was checking the weather in the area. Heavy snow is predicted for this afternoon and tonight so I can’t check out the lead until tomorrow.” Hesitating only briefly, he says, “Scoot, I need to let you know the ATF agent told me that Bixby is planning on killing all of us. He is angry because we killed Darren Calloway. I was told he has gathered as much information as he can find about us, how we operate, and where we live.”
Scoot shakes his head, “Damn! What’s with these people? We were only protecting Melanie and Eric.”
Pinky adds, “From what the agent said, he wanted to kill Calloway himself. He was mad because Calloway embarrassed him in front of the others at the compound in Idaho and we took away his revenge. It sounds to me like he is crazy.”
Scoot says, “No kidding. Pinky, you know we’re all in this with you, don’t you? We’ll help you rescue your Jasmine just like we helped Barry rescue Melanie and you guys helped me rescue Skye. I guess what I’m trying to say is, don’t do anything foolish. Let’s make a plan and treat it like any of our other operations. We want to make certain you are successful.”
Looking down at his hands, Pinky feels a warm flush creeping up his chest and neck. He looks back at Scoot and says, “Thanks Scoot, that means a lot to me. You guys are the best.”
******
Early the next morning, James Bixby and Jasmine Leblanc leave the compound near Sandpoint, Idaho headed south through Montana. A foot of new snow fell overnight and the roads are treacherous but that is not something that will stop James Bixby.
Once he gets an idea in his head, nothing stops him. I am scared to death and my knuckles are white where I am gripping the seat of the truck. James is driving like a maniac on the narrow, winding mountain roads.
After we have been driving for about an hour, I ask, “Where are we going this time, James?”
Cutting his eyes toward me he answers, “Wyoming, it’s time I took care of those bastards that killed Calloway. Nobody else is willing to help, so I’ll do it myself.”
******
Early the same morning, Pinky checks the weather in Sandpoint and sees that the skies are clear. Checking with Scoot to make sure it’s all right for him to use the helicopter he heads to the helipad to prepare for his trip. Stump approaches him and asks, “Say, Pinky, do you mind if I tag along?”
“No, I’d appreciate the company. It will be easier to spot the truck with two sets of eyes looking for it.”
“Great, I’ll just go grab my backpack. I’ll be back in a minute,” says Stump.
He walks back to the office, bounds up the stairs, and grabs his backpack out of his bedroom. As he passes through the office he says, “Scoot, I’m going with Pinky. See you in a few days.”
Scoot says, “That’s good, thanks Stump. Try to keep him out of trouble please. I’ve never seen him so wound up about anything before. It worries me.”
******
I breathe a sigh of relief when we finally reach the valley and don’t have to drive on the narrow mountain roads for a while. With the roads so icy I was scared we would slide off a cliff and die
Since I am staring out the frosty side window of the truck as we are driving along, I am startled by a loud boom and then the truck rocks violently swerving sharply, the tires squealing. I scream in fear, my heart pounding.
The truck bounces off the road through a fence and across a pasture. Holding tightly to the dash and the seat, I glance over at James and see him desperately trying to gain control of the truck and keep it from overturning.
He screams, “Damn! Damn! Damn!” When the truck finally comes to a stop we are a good hundred yards off of the road, down a slight incline and resting up against a tree on the driver’s side. A huge tree limb is sticking through the front windshield separating my side of the truck from James’. I say a quick prayer of thanks that whatever caused this accident that it happened here and not in the mountains.
James evidently hit his head against the side window because he appears to me to be unconscious. I can see blood running down the window from the side of his head and his hands are lying limply in his lap. I can’t tell from where I am if the tree limb has him pinned or not.
&n
bsp; I am torn. Should I stay and help James or go? This may be my only opportunity to get away from him. I don’t really have the proper clothes to be traipsing across the country in the snow, but I may never get another chance to escape.
Making my decision I climb out of the truck and move to the camper where I grab James’ spare pair of boots. I slide my feet into them over my tennis shoes to help them fit better and grab a couple of the blankets and the bread and peanut butter. I hurry back to the road and start walking as fast as I can in the same direction we were driving. I walk the rest of the day only resting for short periods trying to put as much distance between me and James Bixby as possible. Every time a car approaches I hide in the trees along the side of the highway to avoid being seen.
******
Pinky and Stump finally locate the militia compound just east of Sandpoint shortly after lunch. Flying low overhead they do not see a truck matching the description of the one owned by James Bixby. The compound appears to be composed of four small cabins and one larger one. Smoke is rising from all but one of the chimneys. Disappointed Pinky says, “Damn! It looks like we’re too late!” They make several passes around the area but don’t see the truck anywhere.
Stump says, “Maybe we just missed them on the road. We came up through Idaho, let’s go back down the Montana side and see if we see them on the road.”
Hopeful, Pinky says, “That’s a good idea. Keep your eyes peeled and let me know if you see anything resembling the truck. We’ll need to stop in Kalispell for fuel so we may as well stay overnight there.”
They arrive in Kalispell just before dark where they make arrangements to have the helicopter refueled and then take a taxi to the hotel in downtown Kalispell that is attached to the mall. Pinky is discouraged and depressed because they haven’t seen anything of the truck belonging to James Bixby. He is thinking, where am I supposed to look now?
After enjoying an early supper in the hotel restaurant, Stump says, “Why don’t you check with local law enforcement to see if they have had any reports of the truck passing through the area? It’s a long shot but you never know.”
