“I didn’t have to do it.” Her smile toned down again, any further and it no longer would be a smile, “I did it because I liked it, and it was damn good money! But wherever I worked the manager would soon start bugging me to do lap dancing—“ The smile disappeared completely, “And I knew what would come next. Even the other girls bugged me to ‘just get it over with! We all do it,’ but I kept refusing and, like now, I had to keep quitting and moving to the next town. Eventually I just bought a minivan that I could live in, partly at least.”
“You didn’t have to tell me all that, Ms. Waters, but I’m glad you did.”
Her smile lit up again, maybe even brighter, “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, but, if you wish, you are welcome.” He sipped his coffee, “I’ve been looking for you.”
The smile changed to a big question mark, “’Looking’ for me?”
“Yes, about what happened at the hospital.”
Her eyes narrowed, “You’re not another reporter, are you?”
“Oh my, no, I’m actually a chaplain.”
“A ‘chaplain?’”
“Yes.” He grasped his napkin and wiped his mouth, “Are you through here, for the day, Ms. Waters?”
“I’m through, all right—those boys will be back tomorrow night…and you won’t be here to protect me, and that chef back there,” she jerked her thumb backward, “He’s worthless! He wouldn’t help me if I was on fire and he held a fire extinguisher! So, yes, I’m through! All I have to do is tell him!” She stood, “I’ll be right back.”
“Will he pay you?”
“I doubt it, and I don’t care.”
“I’ll wait outside for you then, will you be all right?”
“Yes, give me five minutes.”
****
“So that’s my story, Ms. Waters.”
“My name is ‘Nikki,’ Chaplain, double ‘k,’ short for ‘Nicole.’” Ms. Waters’ smile was back, brighter than ever, “You may call me by either name, whatever you wish.”
“Thank you, Nicole.” He smiled, “I choose to call you ‘Nicole.’ That’s a very pretty name. And my name is Radford O’Hare.”
They had driven to a state park outside of town that Nicole knew about. Then the chaplain had joined her in the minivan so they could share each other’s stories.
“That little devil! I knew there was something different about that kid, and even between the three times he did something, his expression, it…it, I can’t even explain it.”
“Of course we don’t really know if it truly is Les Paul. That’s why we have to get a DNA sample, although I have no idea about that, if it even could be the same DNA, because biology says he was created by a new mother and father. I’d like to find them too. You’re certain you saw nothing outside…?”
“Nothing. Just the squalling baby. I ran out there and no taillights, nothing, and I’ve never heard any other baby screaming quite like him. I….” She shook her head, “What else?”
“Well, we have to try to find the baby Les Paul’s trail,” the chaplain said, “If he stays true to form—that is, irritating his caregivers—he’s went through about three or four foster families by now.”
“Les Paul, that name sounds so familiar.”
“Les Paul and Mary Ford, a fifties singing group. Husband and wife, I believe.”
“Wow, husband and wife. Are they still…with us?”
“They did divorce, and I don’t know about Mary Ford, but Les Paul is deceased.”
“Hopefully neither ever knew about Les Paul, the monster.”
“I doubt they did. Most people—unless they are directly or locally involved—likely don’t pay much attention to stories about murderers.”
“Right, and I agree, and I wouldn’t either, but now I’m intrigued.” Nicole Waters’ smile simply brightened the whole inside of the minivan, “Was Les Paul a murderer?”
“I expect he was.”
“You don’t know?”
“All I know is that he was judged as one of the worst-of-the-worst criminals of all time. As I said, I went along with his execution just as I have for several others, until I came across that book.”
“Wow.” Nicole’s eyes were huge and bright, “So what do you say, Radford O’Hare? Do you want a partner in this hunt?”
“I do, and we could sell my Ford and just travel in your minivan.”
“For sure.”
“But you do understand ‘the hunt’ as you say, could go on for years.”
“I do, and I want to make something absolutely clear to you from the beginning. We are partners in the hunt and that is all. I guess we’ll have to…actually, live, together, but…,” she sobered, hesitated and waited.
“Understood and agreed.”
She smiled, but appeared a bit restrained, as if she had not been sure he would so readily agree, “So what happens when we find him?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
Her smile brightened, “We’ll figure that part out when we find him, partner.”
****
That particular state park—unbelievably—did not charge for camping. The two brand new partners spent the night in their individual vehicles, but Nicole made some changes in her minivan in order to—in the future—accommodate the chaplain. That night seemed to last forever and neither slept very well, at least both thought they didn’t.
When the chaplain woke and sat up, the first thing he noticed was the pretty face of Nicole, already in the driver’s seat, looking in his direction. He waved, then felt embarrassed. Nicole gave an enthusiastic wave back, then he felt less embarrassed, and climbed out. Nicole did the same.
“Good morning, partner,” she said, with a smile that the chaplain would never get tired of seeing.
“Good morning,” he returned, “What say we go to the next town and have breakfast?”
“Just about ten miles from here,” she said, “It’s not really a town but a roadside Inn where I worked about six months ago. I left them for the same reason I explained yesterday, but we are still friends.”
“Great. Lead the way, partner.”
They shook hands, then returned to their vehicles and Nicole led the way.
****
Breakfast was on its way. The two had been continuing each other’s histories, both sometimes talking at the same time, really enjoying their conversation.
Finally the chaplain laid his hands on the table, doubled his fists, then clasped his hands, “While searching for you, Nicole, I’ve been studying Soldier of Fortune, and other survivalist magazines.”
“’Survivalist?’” Her face got more sober than he had yet seen her, “Goodness.” Then she waited.
“I know that sounds a bit dramatic. The thing is Les Paul is still a baby. From your story we know he’s already…performing, but he’s not likely to do anything to put anyone in serious jeopardy for at least two or three or four more years.”
“Agreed.” She brought her hands to the table too, and clasped them. Her eyes said she was ready to hear whatever he had in mind.
“Anyway, I’ve found a few names in these magazines, of people who can teach us some skills.”
“’Survivor’ skills?”
“To a point, yes, but not as if we’ll be living in the wilderness.” He smiled.
“Okay…Go ahead, please.” She smiled back, a sober, interested, smile.
“Self-defense skills, camping and some wilderness survival, maybe some martial arts, handguns and rifles and shotguns too, just for the knowledge, but I do think we should each have our own handgun. After all, we’ll be living—basically—on the road.”
“I’d love to learn to shoot, and I want the one that Sean Connery used in the James Bond movies. Would we actually carry them?”
“I would want a shoulder holster at least available…I guess carrying would depend on the circumstances, and state laws. I think mainly we’d keep them locked up. No use banging heads with local law enforcement.”
“So go on, Radford.” That sober smile continued, “Tell me more.”
“Okay. I haven’t called anybody yet, and there aren’t a lot of names, but I wanted to know how you would feel, and, our final goal is to become licensed private detectives.”
Her eyes popped, “Oh my God! I’d love that!”
Then the chaplain smiled too, “Great. We’ll make some calls when we leave here, we’ll find some place to sell my car, and…,” he opened his hands.
Nicole, her smile reaching that bursting effect, reached across the table and clasped both his hands, “We’ll kick butt, partner!”
Chapter 13 Meet Riley Stokes
The dusty Arizona road had barely been noticeable from the highway. If the chaplain had not received specific directions he would not have seen it, and a normal motorist traveling sixty to seventy mph definitely would not have.
The tracks led away from the inside of the curve, another fact that made the road barely noticeable. He turned onto it.
“Not very well-traveled,” Nicole commented, “Probably doesn’t even get mail out here.”
“Or if he did he likely would lose the service with the new round of closures.”
“Probably.” Nicole hung onto the dash as they went down a grade into a washout. There the tracks got a little plainer. About a half-mile in they drove onto higher ground and into a small grove of trees. Among the trees and quite out of sight, three vehicles of different brands, and all four-wheel-drives. “Radford, I bet if these guys ever go anywhere they take only one vehicle. Are you sure you trust this guy?”
“He made a point of telling me, Nicole, that he’s just inside the law. In fact he suggested I check in with the county sheriff if I felt uncomfortable.”
“Why didn’t we?”
“Because we need to trust him, Nicole. Had we went to the law he would have heard about it, and that, to me, would have raised a red flag for him.”
“Red flag?”
“Right. That we’re absolute amateurs.”
“Well, we are, aren’t we?”
“Yes. And I told him that. He said ‘Fine, I’ve worked with the rankest of them, and several women.’”
“He made it a point of saying ‘women?’”
“Well, yes. I wanted to be sure he didn’t harbor any animosities toward women.”
“And he doesn’t?”
“I trust him, Nicole. We’ll be fine.”
****
Three more miles and another hour passed. Ahead lay a sheltered valley with several buildings, horses, more vehicles, and other livestock.
“A dude ranch?” Nicole asked, then let go with a quiet, ladylike, laugh.
He glanced at her. She wasn’t smiling, wasn’t frowning, just sober, he guessed, and definitely looking over what would likely be their home for a while.
As they approached the most official-looking building, a man wearing a ten-gallon hat and other cowboy gear walked from the house. “That’s gotta be the guy I spoke with.”
“I would agree.”
“Yep, he looks the part.” The chaplain stopped the minivan and looked at his partner, “You do want to do this, don’t you, Nicole?”
“Yes!” she said quickly, and grasped his right lower arm and squeezed it, “Of course, Radford, I’m sorry if I’m giving a different vibe. It’s just that it’s all so new to me.”
“New to me too, my dear.” He opened the door and stepped out.
Nicole did the same and came around to the driver side of the minivan.
The chaplain extended his hand, “I’m Radford O’Hare and this is my partner, Nicole Waters.”
The man was sun-tanned, had deep lines in his face, yet appeared young, maybe mid-to-late forties. He took a long step forward and gripped the chaplain’s hand. “I’m Riley Stokes.” Then he extended to Nicole, “Glad to meet you, too, Ma’am, and you might be glad to know there’s one other woman here, besides my wife.”
“That is good to know, Mr. Stokes.” She smiled a good one.
“And starting now, folks, we all go by first names only.” He pointed, “Those two low buildings there are the bunkhouses. The smaller one is for you two ladies, and I’m sure Sadie will be glad to get a female friend.” The man smiled. The lines in his face deepened. “You can park your minivan between the two buildings, get settled in, and then we eat in about a half hour, right there at the main house.”
“May I ask a question, Riley?” Nicole asked.
“Of course.”
“Is Sadie here as student…like us?” She gestured to herself and the Chaplain.
“Yes she is, and she’s here for the same reason as you folks—well, she didn’t mention eventually becoming a private detective. I reckon she just wants the training, but, one never knows. You folks go ahead and get settled in now. I’ll see you at chow.”
“Thank you,” Nicole said.
The man nodded, waved and walked back toward the main house. When the man was gone the chaplain turned to Nicole, “It’ll be good that you will have a female friend, Nicole. It will give you and me a chance to become better acquainted, too.”
“I wasn’t worried about the two of us, Radford, but you’re right. We’ll get to know each other before we’re constantly stuck with each other.” She gave one of them prize-winning smiles, “While you’re parking our vehicle I’ll go meet my new bunkmate. See you later.”
****
Nicole was pleased to see the feminine furnishings inside the bunkhouse. The walls were a yellowish-beige, a nice thick carpet of a dusky brown, a small kitchen area, microwave, refrigerator, table and four chairs, a window facing each of the four directions…the chaplain backing their minivan into its temporary stall took her attention. She watched as he got out and went around to the rear door. A good man the chaplain, somewhat quiet but a warm heart, far different from any other man she had met in her previous thirty-one years—
“Hi!”
Nicole turned to see a slender young woman a little shorter than herself, with a ferocious mane of black hair and bright blue eyes come in the door. Smiling, she stepped forth and held out her hand, “I’m Sadie.”
Nicole grasped her warm and strong-feeling hand, “I’m Nicole, and I’m with the man parking our minivan.”
“I met him before I came in. A gentleman, I must say.” Her smile increased.
Nicole felt a fleeting rush of jealousy—where on earth did THAT come from?
“Did you get to the bathroom yet?” Sadie asked.
“No, I…I, was just standing here and admiring your—our—home away from home, I guess.”
“Well, come on. I’ll show you.” Sadie gestured to follow, “So, you’ve come clear from—where?—Nebraska?
“Yes. Nebraska. We spent three days coming down, though—we took a couple side trips. Might as well tour when one has the chance, right?”
“Right, so, unless you spent three nights in a motel I bet you haven’t had a bath for a while. Just wait till you see it. We have a shower and a bath—when I got here from Oregon I couldn’t believe it…out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yes, it is,” Nicole agreed, as they started for the bathroom, “How do you like it here?”
“Riley’s good…” Sadie appeared to lose some of her—Nicole could only think of winsomeness, as she at first hesitated, then continued, “Some of his men, though….”
Nicole stopped them, “Yes, what? Talk to me, Sadie.”
“Well, they’re men. They’re out here in the high desert with no women, at least not the kind of women they’re probably used to—I know! I’m categorizing them, and probably unfairly. I’ve been able to keep them away…so far, anyway, and they are good teachers—and maybe it’s their baldness that bugs me.”
“’Baldness?’”
“They aren�
��t bald. They shave their head so there’s always those dark whiskers—I look at them and I always think skinhead!—but just the fact that they’re men, too, and I’m a woman maybe keeps them thinking that, eventually, well, you know.”
“I do, Sadie. I’ve been fighting men off for years, and I’m glad to have found my man.
“So you two are together? I wasn’t sure.”
“Well, we aren’t exactly together together, but I think we’re both planning on it.”
“You think?”
Nicole wasn’t sure if she had been smiling, or not, but she did feel her face change. Before that very moment she had never felt really close to a man, not emotionally, and she didn’t feel it toward the chaplain, or did she? She didn’t know for sure, and she had not expected to have to stand up to another woman in the manner she was feeling that she might have to stand up to Sadie…
“Ohhhh, I’m sorry, Nicole.” Sadie touched her arm to move them along toward the bathroom, “I didn’t mean for you to think that I’m out to get your man, cause I’m not. It’s just that it’s good to see another gentleman arrive—so look!” she said, “Isn’t that little bathroom just a sight for sore eyes? And we have our own well and our power is solar, so unlimited hot water!”
Nicole put her left hand on Sadie’s upper right arm and turned toward her, “Thank you, Sadie,” then she gave the smaller woman a short hug.
****
The evening meal arrived. Everybody was introduced. Four trainers sat at one table, and Riley Stokes joined the chaplain and Nicole. A couple more minutes passed before a fresh-looking Sadie arrived, joined the second table and sat next to Nicole.
“Sorry to be late,” Sadie said.
“No problem,” Riley said, “I’ve said it before: This isn’t boot camp, but we do like to run a tight ship.
“Riley was in the navy,” Sadie informed them, and gave a bright smile.
A sound of a metal spoon banging on a metal cooking pot brought everybody to attention, as the cook lifted two wooden doors that covered the counter where the meal was lined up. Two of the trainers got in line, another man maybe ten years older than Riley and another man maybe ten years younger. Both were deeply tanned and close to six feet tall and less than two hundred pounds. Sadie was next, then Nicole, then the chaplain, then the other two trainers, who both were shaved bald, and shorter and blockier than the first two, and both around thirty.
The Light at the End of the Tunnel Page 5
