Apocalypse Journeys (Book 2): Finding AJ

by Melrose, Russ

  Dallin took a sip of his Pepsi, and Jules took a sip of her Dr. Pepper.

  "And that's all right. Were you good friends with Caleb growing up?"

  "Sure. Me and Heath and Caleb, we-we played all the time when we were kids."

  "So, the three of you were like best friends?"

  "Sure."

  "Maybe you could tell me what Caleb was like as a kid. That would really help me out, Dallin."

  "Uh. I guess you could say Caleb was pretty tough. No one m-m-messed with Caleb. He wasn't that big, but Caleb was tough as they come. M-Maybe 'cause of his dad."

  "I see. So, you and Heath and Caleb were close as kids, and you can correct me if I'm wrong here, Dallin, but it doesn't appear that you and Heath are that close with Caleb anymore. Is that right?"

  Dallin looked at Jules as if the question had him stumped. "M-Maybe not," he finally said. "I, um, I guess s-s-sometimes people go different ways." He looked at Jules as if to see if she approved of his answer.

  Jules didn't say a word. She waited.

  "Me and Heath, we-we went into law enforcement, and, well, Caleb, he became a trucker."

  "Yes," Jules said, smiling sweetly at him. "I remember this afternoon, Heath mentioning that Caleb was smart, and from everything I've seen, I think that's true. It made me wonder why Caleb didn't graduate from high school."

  Dallin took a long drink of his Pepsi and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Um. I-I don't think I remember. I-I'm not sure why he didn't graduate."

  Jules decided not to press Dallin. But she wondered what Heath and Dallin were hiding about Caleb and why. It might be relevant, it might not, but Jules would find out.

  "But, um, Caleb, he's done all right."

  "Yes, he has."

  "Jules, w-what's it like being an FBI agent?"

  "Well, as you know, Dallin, I'm not really an FBI agent anymore. But I liked it. The bureau was regimented, but the rules were clear, and I enjoyed being a part of law enforcement. What I enjoyed most was seeing the pieces of a case come together."

  "S-Sure sounds exciting."

  "Sometimes it was. Did you ever think of joining the FBI, Dallin?"

  "Oh, no. N-Not me. But Heath, he did once. After college."

  "Really? He decided not to join."

  "Uh, well, I don't think he got accepted."

  "Oh. That's too bad."

  "Well, Heath did become sheriff. Just like his daddy and his granddaddy before him."

  "You know, Dallin, we never finished up your profile since you were in the "unlikely" category. Do you mind?"

  "But you-you don't have the computer, Jules. I-I could go get it."

  "That's all right, Dallin. It's not necessary. I'll remember."

  "Okay."

  Jules smiled to keep Dallin feeling at ease. "How about your education level, Dallin?"

  "Well, I, uh, I-I graduated from high school, and I took some online classes in criminal justice from the U-University of Utah."

  Dallin seemed relieved to have answered the question. "Are you a hunter, Dallin?"

  "Yes ma'am. I been huntin' since I was a kid, and I'm a real good shot too," he said proudly. "Me and Caleb and Josh are the best."

  "That's good, Dallin. Do you like art?"

  "Well, I-I think I like it, but I'm not any good at it."

  "And I take it you've never been arrested?"

  "No, ma'am."

  "I think that's all I'll need. I appreciate your answering the questions, Dallin. You've been a big help."

  "S-So, that's it?"

  "Yes, Dallin. And thanks again."

  After Dallin left, Jules took two Tylenol and finished off the Dr. Pepper. She disentangled her legs and stretched out fully on her sleeping bag. She massaged her thigh for several minutes.

  She didn't consider Dallin much of a suspect, though he did fit the profile in some respects. He'd been on the supply run and had unfettered access to Gideon, he was proficient with firearms, had knowledge of law enforcement investigative procedures, and then there was his relationship with Heath. That's what stood out to Jules. Throughout Dallin's life he'd had to play second fiddle to Heath. Being constantly eclipsed by his best friend couldn't have been easy. And then there was Dallin's childhood, being ridiculed and teased because of his stuttering—Dallin wouldn't be the first serial killer who stuttered.

  But Dallin was left-handed. And the voice on the phone was as smooth and cool as a polished pebble lying in a mountain stream.

  Chapter 32

  You See, Jules

  "Do you like surprises, Jules?" he asked casually.

  "Depends," she said.

  "Could be, you'll find this interesting."

  As quiet as she could, Jules opened the nightstand drawer and took out a pen and a notepad. She wrote furiously.

  "Here's how this is going to work, Jules. You're going to stay on the phone with me and I'm going to give you instructions. And you're going to follow them. Is that understood?"

  "Yes," Jules told him. "I understand."

  "Are you dressed yet?"

  "No. I'm still in bed. I'll get dressed now."

  Jules donned a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She didn't bother with a bra. She slipped into her jogging shoes and laced them tight. Then she grabbed her keys along with her gun and holster.

  She opened her bedroom door as quietly as she could and headed to the stairs. The Colemans' bedroom was upstairs.

  "You're taking a long time to get dressed, Jules."

  "I just woke up," she complained. "I'm almost ready. Just another minute."

  "I know what you're thinking, Jules," he said, laughing lightly. "Trust me, it won't matter."

  Jules ignored his comment. "I need to put my shoes on and I'll be ready."

  She approached the Colemans' bedroom and turned the knob. They were sleeping soundly. Coleman was sleeping close to the edge of the bed with Trudi spooning him from behind. When Jules reached the edge of the bed, she cradled the phone into her shoulder and placed her hand over Coleman's mouth. Coleman blinked and opened his eyes.

  Jules pressed a finger to her lips to warn Coleman to keep quiet. She handed him the note she'd written.

  Coleman reached for the lamp next to the bed, but Jules raised her hand in protest. She knew the Calligrapher could be close by.

  Coleman nodded in understanding. He grabbed his iPhone off the nightstand and used its flashlight to read the note under the cover of his pillow.

  "Jules …" the voice warned.

  Jules took a breath. "I'm ready," she said.

  Coleman looked up from reading the note. Jules gave him a silent nod and walked out of the room.

  "That's good, Jules," The voice said. "Now, I want you to go to your car. We're going for a ride."

  Outside, the night air felt surprisingly temperate, the day's heat having faded. Jules felt rousingly alert, as alive as she'd ever felt. She thought she should have felt frightened, but she didn't. She walked across the grass lawn, glancing in every direction. She knew he could be close by, or he might not be anywhere near here. She avoided looking in the direction of the unmarked car with the two agents in it, though she sensed the Calligrapher already knew they were there. The car was parked in an unlit section of the street half a block down.

  Jules took her time starting the Impala. She needed to give Coleman as much time as possible to make the calls he needed to make.

  She was certain the agents down the street must have seen her walking to the car. Would they follow her?

  "Are you stalling, Jules?"

  "Just waiting for directions," she answered.

  "Good. Time to go. You would be a very clever girl to assume I'm watching you every step of the way, Jules. No tricks. Any false moves and we'll have to call it a night. Understood?"

  "Yes. I understand."

  "Very good. Now turn the car around, go two blocks east, then take a left on South Green Valley Parkway. Go north half a block and pull over behind a black Honda
Accord."

  Jules turned the car around and headed to the Parkway. As she passed the unmarked car, she turned for a glimpse. The passenger side window was down. Inside, Jules could see the slumped figures of the two agents. She stopped the car.

  "I'm afraid they're beyond help," the voice said casually.

  Now she knew he was watching her. Jules opened the door and walked quickly to the car. She leaned in for a closer look. Both agents had been shot in the head. Jules pressed two fingers on the carotid artery of the nearest agent but couldn't find a pulse.

  "They really are quite dead, Jules." He said it as if commenting on the weather. "No more side trips. Time to get back in your car and drive."

  Jules obeyed. She headed to her car, emotionally shaken. She considered hanging up and calling it in, but she couldn't do it. Staying connected with him was their best chance, their only chance, of catching him. She would follow his instructions, play his game. It was the only way. The agents were dead and that wasn't going to change. Their bodies would be discovered soon enough. If Coleman had tried calling them, he'd already know something was wrong.

  Jules shifted the car into drive and pulled away.

  A minute later, she parked the Impala behind the black Accord and left it running. She slowly removed the Glock from its holster and chambered a round. She laid the gun on her thigh where it was out of sight, her finger curled inside the trigger housing. There was no one in the Honda, and she couldn't spot anyone nearby. Wherever he was, he was well hidden.

  "I'm here," she said.

  "Yes. I want you to get out of your car and get into the Accord. Keys are in the ignition. First, there are a few things I need you to do. If there's a tracking device in the Impala, leave it where it is. Leave your phone in the car along with your gun. You won't be needing them. You'll find a new phone on the passenger seat in the Accord. When you get out of the car, turn all your pockets inside out. That's simple enough, Jules, isn't it?"

  "Yes," she told him, but Jules didn't move.

  Whatever he had in mind, he'd planned it out meticulously. Jules couldn't count on him making any mistakes. He had the upper hand. He knew it and she knew it. By following his directions, she'd be walking right into his trap.

  Jules rolled down the window and turned the ignition off. She'd hoped to hear the whirring sounds of a helicopter in the night sky, but all she heard was a chorus of crickets. If help were on the way, it would be too late. Once she got in the Accord, there would be no tracking her. She would be off the grid before her colleagues would have any chance to find her. The Calligrapher had left nothing to chance.

  She thought about calling Beckerman. If they flooded the area with agents and the local police, maybe they'd get lucky. But Jules knew better. The Calligrapher would have anticipated the possibility. Playing along with him still gave them their best chance even if she was walking into a trap.

  "Nervous?" he asked. "I can't blame you. Two agents dead. Truly a terrible thing. A pity. But it had to be done. The thing is … they would have interfered. I couldn't allow that. If it makes you feel better, I want you to know I have no intention of killing you, Jules. Certainly not tonight. There's nothing to worry about, Agent Vandevelde. This night isn't about you.

  "You don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. It's all up to you, Jules. If you want to see what I have to show you, then you'll have to get into the Accord. You'll have to do it now. We're running out of time. If not, I'll say goodnight."

  Jules placed the Glock, her holster, and her iPhone on the passenger seat. She exited the vehicle and stepped into the middle of the street. She could feel him watching her. She pulled her pockets inside out and turned all the way around, then she headed for the Accord.

  She started the car. The cell phone was on the passenger seat as he said it would be. A moment later, the ringtone went off.

  Jules picked up the phone. "Yes," she answered.

  "I'm glad you've decided to come along, Jules." There was an uptick of excitement in his voice.

  He gave her an address on West Oquendo Road and explicit directions. The I-215 freeway was straight ahead. She would head west, then north on I-15. Even though she'd been in Vegas less than two weeks, the directions he'd given her seemed straightforward. The bulk of the drive would be on the freeways.

  "I have no doubt you're an intelligent woman, Jules," the voice said. Jules wasn't sure if he was mocking her or being honest. "The Feds don't allow just anyone in the behavioral analysis unit."

  Jules resisted the impulse to respond. She needed him to talk, but the conversation couldn't be centered around her. She would bide her time. If the opportunity presented itself, Jules would steer the conversation to him.

  The freeway was empty. Ahead of her, the colorful bright lights of the casinos glittered like a far-off galaxy. Every few seconds, Jules glanced in the rearview mirror. She went over the directions in her mind to make sure she knew where she was going.

  A pair of headlights suddenly appeared in her rearview mirror. The lights hadn't been there before. They were at least a mile back, close to where she'd entered the freeway.

  Had he been on the freeway the whole time? If he'd had binoculars, he could have monitored her movements from the freeway.

  "The press conference," he started. "That wasn't your idea, was it, Jules?"

  Jules hesitated. "No. It wasn't."

  "I didn't think so. You seemed rather uncomfortable. If I had to guess, I'd have to say it was the pudgy guy. What was his name? Stohl?"

  "I think you know I can't talk about it," she told him. Jules kept her eye on the lights in her rearview mirror. The car kept pace with her but was too far back for her to identify the make.

  "I know you're too smart to believe that nonsense about my sexuality, though I have to admit it was nicely played."

  He sounded pleased for some reason.

  "Since there were no signs of actual intercourse, it was a possibility we had to consider."

  "Yes. I understand. The idea was to embarrass me, induce some anger, and get me to do something stupid. That was never going to happen, though I have done something. You'll see soon enough. I didn't see Special Agent Beckerman there. I thought he was in charge. Where was he?"

  "He had other business to attend to. Listen, I'm curious, what is it you want to show me?"

  Jules attention was glued to the headlights in the rearview mirror.

  "Not yet. Pay attention, Jules, I-15 North is coming up. Don't miss it."

  Jules tensed and she could feel her spine straighten. It had to be the Calligrapher driving the car in back of her. How else would he have known she was approaching the I-15 junction? If she knew for certain it was him, she could hang up and call it in. But the car was still too far back for her to see anything. Jules would wait to see if the car followed her onto I-15. If it did, she'd slow down, maybe even stop, and see what his reaction would be. She had to keep in mind he had a gun and had already killed two agents. If he slowed perceptibly, she would call it in.

  "Why did you choose me?" Jules asked.

  "That's not something you need to know. You're here to observe, Jules. Nothing more."

  Jules took the I-15 North exit, keeping her eye on the vehicle till she couldn't see it anymore. Once she entered I-15, she slowed to thirty and waited to see if the car would follow her. She kept looking in the rearview mirror, but the car never showed.

  "Do you remember the directions, Jules?"

  "Yes," she told him. Her hopes of being able to call Beckerman had evaporated.

  "Won't be long now," he whispered.

  Five minutes later, Jules pulled up to the address he'd given her. A high chain-link fence bordered the property. The front gate was open. A rusty "for sale" sign hung on the fence. The building was an abandoned warehouse. The only window Jules could see belonged to what she assumed was the office.

  When Jules pulled into the parking area, multiple motion detector lights came on, illuminating th
e parking area.

  "The door to the office is open. Inside the office, there's a door that leads to the warehouse area. From there, follow the light."

  The parking lot was empty. Jules instincts told her the Calligrapher wasn't here. The idea of capturing him had been fool's gold. Whatever his surprise was, Jules would find it inside. She had a sick feeling about what she would find.

  She parked the Accord in front of the office. When she got out, she visually checked the parking lot but saw nothing. Jules tested the office door and it was open. She felt around inside for a light switch, found it, and flipped the switch. Nothing. Light from one of the motion detectors filtered through the window and offered Jules some light. The only furnishings in the office were a bare, dusty office desk and two black file cabinets. No chairs. An outdated calendar with a picture of a moonlit desert hung on the wall. Jules checked the desk's drawers for a possible weapon but found nothing.

  The motion detector light suddenly went out and the room morphed into an impenetrable darkness. Jules blinked her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. It seemed an eternity had passed before her eyes adjusted to it.

  She eyed the door to the warehouse.

  She felt vulnerable without backup or her Glock.

  Jules turned the knob and steeled herself. The warehouse was utterly silent and huge, as spaciously cavernous as an airplane hangar. A complex latticework of intersecting beams loomed above her. In front of her, a half-dozen columns of empty metal shelving stretched into the distance. A sharp mustiness permeated the air.

  At the other end of the warehouse, a dim, ghostly light swung back and forth like a metronome. The light was off to her right, and she picked a shelving corridor she thought would lead her to it. Toward the end of the corridor, alternating shadows and pillars of light ticked back and forth across the aisle.

  Jules kept the phone to her ear. The Calligrapher remained silent and she wondered why. Was he here? She came to a cross aisle and stopped. She looked both ways but saw nothing. She continued down the corridor. This time, when the swath of light illuminated the right side of the aisle, Jules noticed a shadowy silhouette on one of the shelves. She picked up her pace. A part of her had known all along what she would find. Jules began to run but not too fast.