Apocalypse Journeys (Book 2): Finding AJ

by Melrose, Russ

  It was a strange time for Jules. She coped with the Shell Station incident by not coping with it at all. She acted as if the events of that day weren't real or had never occurred at all. Her self-rationalization for her state of denial made perfect sense to her—she didn't have time to deal with it.

  She also wasn't used to all the attention she was receiving. Jules could only recall a handful of times growing up when her stepfather doted on her, like when she was sick or had a birthday. The life lessons he'd taught her were all about self-reliance.

  At first, Jules fought against the overt attention, but soon, out of sheer weariness, she gave into it.

  Addy and Nikki brought Jules her meals and cleaned up after her. They brought large plastic tubs of water to the tent and helped bathe her. They saw to her every need and seemed to have fun doing it. Nikki was a buzz saw of energy, and it seemed to rub off on Addy.

  Angela administered to Jules a couple times a day, dressing her wounds and keeping them clean and throwing in the occasional positive reinforcement about how well Jules was doing. Even Heath and Dallin and the mayor pitched in. Still, Jules was champing at the bit to get back on her feet and get going.

  "How are you feeling?" Caleb asked her.

  Jules nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd been lost in her own world and Caleb had startled her right out of it. She hadn't heard him coming. The river had masked the sound of his footsteps. That, or she was sidetracked by the daydream she was lost in.

  "Better," Jules told him.

  He stood next to her blanket looking solemnly at the river.

  Rusty was sniffing the ground, working his way toward Jules.

  "Come here, boy," Caleb ordered in a casual voice. "Sit."

  The dog settled on his haunches next to Caleb and gazed out at the river like his master.

  "Rusty's all right," Jules said.

  "Well, he can be a pest."

  It was the first time Jules had seen Caleb since he dropped her off that night at the tent. The following day, Heath told her Caleb had gone hunting in the mountains.

  She was watching the river too, mesmerized by its ever-moving current.

  Jules hadn't missed Caleb. She was glad he'd taken off. It wasn't personal. His absence made for one less complication. She didn't want to have to tell him about his daughter. Not yet.

  She never would have guessed Caleb Sanderson was a father or that he'd been a husband. Caleb was still an enigma. One she hadn't been able to solve.

  "Find who you're looking for?" he asked, kicking a rock toward the river.

  "Not yet. We're working on it."

  "See you've got your gun handy. Probably not a bad idea," he said, glancing at her holstered gun. "This one actually work?" he asked.

  "Yes, it works. This one actually has a firing pin."

  Jules glanced up and thought she detected a hint of a smile under the beard. She thought about saying something clever but nothing came to mind. She felt awkward around Caleb. She knew the feeling of awkwardness had everything to do with his saving her life, and she knew it was silly, but she couldn't help herself.

  "Well, thought I'd see how you were doing," he said.

  "Thank you."

  Caleb walked off and whistled softly for Rusty to follow him. It didn't take long for Jules to get restless.

  She walked the twenty feet down to the riverbank without her cane and washed her dishes. Walking without the cane made her feel independent.

  Afterwards, she retrieved her cane and walked to the picnic area for a coffee refill. Mostly, she used the cane so Angela wouldn't give her grief for walking without it.

  The last breakfast shift had finished and the picnic area had thinned out. Dallin sat at a table with Gordo and Bethany Conway. They were working on a puzzle.

  Jules joined them after getting her coffee refill. "Hey there," she said before taking a sip of the fresh coffee.

  Dallin smiled. "Hello, Jules."

  Gordo smiled too.

  "Are you feeling better?" Bethany asked. "My mom says you're doing really well."

  "Yes. I'm feeling better. Thank you."

  "You sh-should take a seat, Jules."

  Jules sat down. The thigh muscles in her injured leg ached from the two minutes of walking she'd done. The continuing pain was frustrating, but she didn't care. Jules believed the more she exercised her injured leg, the sooner she'd get back to being her usual self.

  The puzzle box cover displayed a rustic-cabin-near-a-lake picture with vibrant fall colors. Dallin and Bethany were working on the puzzle with Gordo looking on. They'd grouped the puzzle pieces into five organized groupings. Four groups for the corners and one for the center area. They were each working on one corner area.

  "That's going to be beautiful," Jules told them.

  Jules could see Heath headed their way.

  Bethany fit a piece into the corner she was working on. "I got one," she said excitedly.

  "Good work, princess," Dallin said.

  "Maybe you could come by after dinner tonight," Jules said to Dallin.

  "You mean m-m-me and Heath?" he asked.

  "No. Just you, Dallin. If that's all right."

  "Oh. Sure," he said, looking a bit bewildered.

  Heath was sporting a wide grin as he approached. "Hey, baby girl," he said to his daughter.

  "I'm not a baby, daddy," she protested.

  "All right. But you're still my little girl," he said.

  Bethany exhaled dramatically. "I guess that's okay," she said.

  "You ready to go?" Heath asked Dallin.

  "Sure," Dallin answered.

  "All right. Let's get going."

  "Do you have to take Uncle Dallin?" Bethany whined, her face in a pout. "Who's going to help me finish the puzzle?" she asked.

  Heath looked at his daughter and grinned. "Well, sweetheart, maybe Uncle Gordo can help out, and I'll bet Agent Vandevelde here is a real whiz when it comes to puzzles."

  "I'm not too good at puzzles," Gordo lamented.

  Bethany smiled. "Would you help me?" she asked Jules excitedly.

  "I suppose I could help for a while," Jules told her.

  "Don't forget," Jules called after Heath. "No traces."

  "You focus on the puzzle, Jules. We got this."

  After they walked off, Gordo looked at Jules. "Traces?"

  "It's nothing," Jules told him.

  Before breakfast, Jules had warned Heath not to leave any traces that they'd ever been at Josh's. It was crucial Josh not have any idea he was being investigated.

  She watched them cross the bridge before focusing on the puzzle.

  Jules fit a five-pronged piece into a corner configuration. Jules had loved puzzles as a child. She would wait till Bethany found another piece before she allowed herself to find another one. Self-confidence was important for a child.

  Bethany's face reflected a singular focus of concentration as she fingered the pieces. She turned them over in her hand and stared at the outline of her corner pieces, looking for a fit.

  Jules toyed with a few pieces as if she were considering them, not that she was. She was considering Heath and Dallin, vetting them as inconspicuously as she could. While Jules didn't believe either was the Calligrapher, she would vet them anyway.

  *****

  After Bethany joined the other kids in class, Jules returned to her blanket and Hercule Poirot.

  She could hear him trampling toward her, mumbling to himself. When he was a few feet away, he coughed a loud harrumph to announce his presence.

  Jules put down her book and greeted Cole with a smile. He wore jeans and boots and a faded black Oakland Raiders t-shirt that was more gray now than black. He had stitches on his forehead where the bullet had grazed his temple. He'd even shaved. This was the first time since the supply run Jules had seen him. She'd wanted to thank him, but he'd been avoiding her.

  Cole looked at the ground as if it were his only friend. He held his Raiders' cap in his hands and kept rotating i
t around and around with his fingers.

  "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I done," he said. He raised his eyes momentarily before looking down again.

  "Why would you be sorry, Cole? You talked Caleb into coming after me. If you hadn't done that, I'd be dead."

  Jules attempted to look Cole in the eyes, but he kept his eyes fixed on the ground.

  "Caleb was going after ya. Didn't matter none what I said. Caleb makes up his own mind." He paused. "I'm the one who's stubborner than hell and wouldn't listen to ya and went down that street. Then, on top of that, I couldn't get over that damned fence. That's what nearly got ya killed, and that's after you saved my life at that Macey's store."

  "Listen Cole, if it weren't for you, Caleb wouldn't have had any idea where to look for me. You certainly played a part in saving my life. How about we call it even?"

  "No. We ain't even. You saved my life and then I went and nearly got ya killed. I was going to thank you for saving my life. I was. I was, uh, I was working my way up to it." He snuck another glance at Jules. "But everything went to hell on that supply run. So, no, we ain't even. Not even close. And I ain't forgettin' it neither."

  He said it with determination and Jules knew she wouldn't be changing his mind.

  "Well, okay, Cole. I'm just glad we're both alive to talk about it."

  Cole raised his eyes to Jules. He fit the cap on his head, tipped his head to her, and walked off.

  Chapter 31

  Due Diligence

  "Not a damn thing," Heath said, scanning the campgrounds as if he were concerned someone might see them talking.

  Heath and Dallin were standing next to Jules' blanket near the river. Both, as always, clean cut and fussy in appearance—Heath in tight-fitting jeans, burgundy polo, and tortoise Ray Bans; Dallin with his crisply-ironed deputy sheriff shirt, blue jeans, fanny pack, and chestnut cowboy boots. As usual, both were carrying.

  "Had to be expected," Jules told them. "If Josh were the Calligrapher, he wouldn't have left any clues lying around. If there had been any clues lying around, they likely would have been left by the real Calligrapher trying to frame Josh."

  Dallin scrutinized Jules with a look. "So, is-is Josh still a suspect?"

  "I think what Jules is really saying is that it was a waste of time."

  "No. Not at all. We had to see if anything was there. Since nothing was, one thing it means is that Josh hasn't been cleared. Doesn't mean he's guilty; it means he hasn't been cleared. But it also means it might be someone else."

  "Terrific," Heath grumbled. "Let me see if I can decipher this. It might be Josh, it might not, or it might be someone else. Is that about right, Jules?"

  The midday sun splintered through the trees. Jules shaded her eyes and looked up at Heath. "It's another piece of information, Heath. That's all it was ever going to be. We need more information. The more pieces of information we have, the clearer the picture becomes, and the closer we'll be to getting him."

  It's what Jules believed. It's what she knew.

  "Sometimes, Jules, you sound like a damn bureaucrat."

  "It's time to start looking at secondary criteria," she told him. "The more information we gather, the more the suspect list will narrow. Who might have had the opportunity to commit these crimes? Who travels in their occupation? For instance, does Josh do any traveling with his job? Who's meticulous? Who's artistic? We'll check the education levels of suspects. This was never going to be easy, Heath."

  "If there aren't going to be any real clues out there, how the hell will we ever know who it is?" he asked.

  "It's going to be someone who was on that supply run," she told him. Her voice was filled with confidence and resolve, and a fervency she'd yet to show them. "I guarantee it. His removing the firing pin from my gun was a mistake. It won't be the last one he makes. He has to show off. He can't help himself. That's how we'll catch him. We'll narrow the suspect list down and he will make a mistake."

  Heath stared bewilderingly at Jules as if it were the first time they'd met. "Okay," he said slowly. "That sounds more like it."

  Dallin nodded his head affirmatively. "We-We'll get him."

  "Okay. Let's get working on that list," Heath said. "We'll start with everyone who was on the supply run, and we'll work in their jobs and travel habits and education and whatever else. We'll get this thing figured out."

  For the first time since they'd started the investigation, Jules felt like they were on the same page and part of the same team.

  *****

  "Caleb? Are you joking? If I recall, Jules, you did tell us you believed Caleb's daughter was the first victim. And he did save your life, or did you forget that?"

  Of those who'd been on the supply run, Jules had left Caleb for last.

  "No. I haven't forgotten. But we have to look at everyone. He's on the list. You did say his wife ran off. Right? Anyone ever hear from her after she left?"

  She looked at both of them for an answer.

  They looked at each other. Dallin shrugged his shoulders.

  "I don't know," Heath answered. "Not that I know of. But I never asked. Look, Jules, I'll admit I've been overprotective of my friends. But Caleb didn't kill his wife or his daughter. No way that happened."

  "I don't think so either, Heath. But we have to check everyone out."

  Dallin damped at his sweaty forehead with his forearm. Even though the tent sat in the shade, the trapped afternoon heat was oppressively dense. They'd kept the tent's flaps closed for privacy.

  "Before the virus hit, what did Caleb do for a living?" Jules asked.

  "Well," Heath started, already sounding defensive. "Caleb was self-employed as a regional trucker. He had his own rig."

  Jules listed the primary criteria Caleb fit, as much for herself as for them. "Let's see. Caleb traveled for a living in the Southwest. He's right-handed. He was on the supply run. He's proficient with weapons, both rifles and handguns. He used a handgun at the Shell Station and a rifle on the first supply run I was on. He's in the age range. And the only reason he wasn't on the "likely" list to begin with is that he doesn't have access to Gideon. That about right?"

  Heath shook his head. "I know we're supposed to be looking at this objectively, but dammit, Jules, Caleb, Dallin, and I were best friends growing up. Caleb's had some real tough breaks. Had a mean alcoholic father who left when Caleb was in high school. Mother died a year later. His sister moved away after high school. Wife left him. Then his daughter. Doesn't get much tougher than that."

  They heard someone walking by outside and the three of them went silent till whoever was out there was gone.

  "You think that's all coincidence?" Jules asked. "His father, his sister, his wife, and his daughter all leaving."

  Heath looked uncomfortable.

  "I don't like talking about Caleb behind his back." Heath told her. "His father used to beat the hell out of Caleb's mother when he'd get drunk. Beat Caleb sometimes too. One night when Caleb was in high school, his father came home drunk and started to beat the hell out of his wife. That was it for Caleb. Beat the holy hell out of his father, cracked some ribs and blackened his eyes. Sent him to the emergency room. As soon as they released his father from the hospital the next day, he left Gideon and never came back."

  Jules rifled off more questions. She wanted to get it over with. "Has he ever been arrested? Education level? Is he artistic?"

  Heath and Dallin shared a furtive glance.

  "No. Caleb's never been arrested," Heath began. "As far as education goes, Caleb didn't graduate from high school. But I know he got his GED. Never went to college, but make no mistake, Caleb's smart. He's a reader. He reads everything. And when he became a trucker, he taught himself to be a mechanic. Damn good one too. And he's the best hunter in Gideon. But artistic? No. I don't think so."

  Jules was certain they were keeping something from her. "All right," she said. "That helps. Fits the profile in some ways but not in others. Look, Heath, let's check Caleb out like
the others and see if we can eliminate him as a suspect. I hope you know this isn't personal."

  The left corner of Heath's lips cut up into his cheek. "Yeah. Right. Whatever you say, Jules."

  "There's something else we haven't covered yet. Are you aware of any incidences of animal torture from anyone at an early age, especially with a knife? Any kind of predictive behavior?"

  Heath laughed. "No. And I do believe I've mentioned this before, Jules. Everyone in Gideon is a hunter. What that means is that they're going to gut and skin the animals they kill, get them ready for consumption. So, cutting up animals with a knife is a pretty regular occurrence here in Gideon. You understand?"

  Jules felt a bit foolish. "Yes. Okay. I think that's enough for now."

  *****

  Dallin sat down and gave Jules a bright smile. He was clean-shaven as always, and Jules became aware of a light musky scent lingering in the tent air. Dallin reached behind him and Jules heard the tearing of the Velcro flap from his fanny pack. He handed Jules a Dr. Pepper and laid a Pepsi on Addy's sleeping bag, then he reached back for his own Pepsi.

  "Thank you, Dallin," she said, pulling the tab open.

  "S-Sure, Jules. No problem," Dallin said.

  The Dr. Pepper was cold as the Gideon river and tasted wonderful. Dallin had told Jules he kept his stash hidden by the river bank.

  Jules was as ready as she could be. She would be probing, nothing more. Due diligence. The key would be to extract as much information as possible without alienating Dallin. "Just curious, Dallin. Who do you think it could be?"

  "Um, uh. I-I don't really know, Jules," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

  Jules sat cross-legged, mirroring Dallin. Her leg ached, but she'd suffer it.

  "But you don't think it's Josh?"

  "No. I don't. He-He's just kinda quiet, but he's nice."

  "I think so too," Jules agreed. "Heath seems to think it could be Josh."

  "I-I suppose he does. I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.