Hidden Truths (The Hidden Series Book 1)

by Kristin Coley

We got out, and I turned in the direction I knew we needed to go, but stopped when Jake told me to wait.

  I paused, watching him as he walked to the trunk of the car and opened it. I walked closer to see what he was doing. He pulled up the carpet covering the spare tire and grabbed the gun he had hidden there. He looked at me saying, “Kidnappers are rarely nice people.”

  “Especially ones that are drug cartel?” I commented, watching him tuck the gun under his shirt behind his back.

  “Exactly,” he replied, shutting the trunk. “Now tell me what you know.”

  “Basically, what you know. The police think the cartel kidnapped Samuel to force his brother not to testify. Samuel is somewhere that way,” I said, pointing in the direction we were headed. “I wish I could be more specific, but really it’s just an awareness of his location. I couldn't give you coordinates.”

  “That’s fine,” he replied, pulling a knife from his pocket. He put a cut on a nearby tree to mark our path. “So we can find our way back out,” he told me, as I watched silently.

  We walked for a while, and I was grateful for my sneakers, as the path was almost nonexistent. Jake periodically marked a tree, so we wouldn’t get lost. I stumbled once or twice, and he caught me, his arm heavily muscled and solid.

  Thoughts were whirling around my head, fear being an ever-present companion. I had stumbled into a dangerous mess, but I wasn’t afraid, not with Jake beside me. I was confident in his ability to protect me, but at this point, I wanted to find Samuel and forget all of this.

  My stomach rumbled loudly, reminding me I had missed lunch. Jake glanced at me, and I shrugged. Nothing we could do about my hunger in the middle of the woods.

  “Favorite book I’ve read?” he tossed out, an obvious effort to distract me from my hunger.

  “Codex Alera,” I answered, turning a bit to follow an almost indistinguishable trail that my sixth sense seemed to know. I had gotten a little ahead of Jake, when it occurred to me the kidnappers might be out here somewhere. I slowed down a bit, staying closer to Jake and his weapon.

  “Huh, you’re right; but a favorite anything is incredibly subjective,” he said, his eyes constantly scanning the surrounding woods. “What’s to say my favorite won’t change in five minutes?”

  “Unless you read something in the next five minutes that changes your mind, that’s unlikely,” I replied. I had wondered about stuff like that myself.

  “What about the future?” he asked. “Can you predict it?”

  “Sure, I can predict it. And be wrong,” I told him. “Too many potential outcomes. I think what I can do relies heavily on someone’s choice. Once an individual makes a decision, their future may be more accurate, but it’s still subject to whim.”

  “But the past is accurate, because it’s already done,” he stated.

  “Yep. There are exceptions of course. Like you,” I told him, pausing to look around. I felt like we were getting close.

  “What do you mean?” he asked me.

  “I knew you’d help me. To me, it was a given, but you could have told me no. But I knew you wouldn’t, even before I knew who you really were. It’s almost like it was already decided.” I said, thinking about it.

  “So you’re saying people don’t have a choice. It’s all predetermined,” he said, in disbelief.

  “No,” I said slowly. “If it was, I’d know the answers to questions about the future. I think some things are meant to be. Certain moments need to happen. What happens after that is a matter of choice.” I glanced at him to see if he was following me. His eyes were focused ahead, but he was listening. I was about to continue my theory, when I was distracted by the knowledge that we had arrived.

  I grabbed Jake’s arm before pointing ahead to a thicket of bushes. It was well hidden, but I knew there was a cabin there. He nodded, acknowledging me, placing his finger over my lips to indicate silence. I nodded, not wanting to bring attention to us either. We silently padded closer before he looked back at me curiously. I wasn’t sure what to expect, when suddenly he was wrapped around me. My back was pulled flush against his front, and he ducked his head right next to my ear. I couldn't help the shiver that ran over me at our closeness. He barely breathed the words against me, “Is anyone in or around the cabin?”

  I shook my head in the negative, feeling foolish that I hadn’t thought of this sooner. We moved closer, still careful though. Jake might be willing to ask, but I wasn’t sure he trusted my knowledge completely. I couldn’t blame him. What I knew could be open to interpretation, and of course if someone changed their mind, so could our future reality. We walked around the area, scouting it. We got closer and saw broken branches where someone had forced their way into the cabin.

  My nose twitched when I caught a whiff of something foul. The scent was slightly metallic and decaying. I walked to the door, feeling almost compelled, when he jerked me back. I slammed against his chest, pressed tightly against him again when he asked me, “Is Samuel Phillips alive?”

  Chapter Five

  I was grateful his arm was wrapped around me, because it was all that held me up when I collapsed. Seconds later, we heard the howling of dogs, and he was dragging me away from the cabin.

  “We have to move. We can’t be found here.” His lips were pressed against my cheek as he said it. I thought distantly that his lips were incredibly soft before his words registered. I found my feet, and we were running back the way we came.

  They would find Samuel Phillips within minutes, shot in the back of the head, execution style, in that tiny cabin in the woods.

  A hike that took us forty-five minutes in only took fifteen as we ran back. When we got to the car, I realized he was still holding my hand. He hadn’t let go when we started running, and now he jerked open the car door and practically shoved me in. Seconds later, he was around the car, and we were driving back the way we came.

  I was shaking at the knowledge that Samuel was dead. Tears slipped down my face, as I whispered, “Why did they bring him out to that cabin if they were just going to kill him?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake replied tightly, reaching over to grab my hand. “I need to get you home and call my contact.”

  “I don’t understand. He was just a little kid. He had to be so scared.” I started sobbing, picturing him on the ground. “They executed him,” I gasped out, wanting to escape the horror in my mind.

  “What?” Jake said sharply, and I realized he didn’t know. We hadn’t actually seen the body. I saw him in my mind when Jake asked if he was alive.

  “They made him get on his knees and shot him in the back of the head,” I told him, trying to control my sobs and get the words out clearly.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” he muttered to himself. “Why kill him if they’re using him to control Daniel?”

  I wasn’t sure if he realized I could hear him, or if he was asking me the question, but I gave him the answer anyway. “Because Samuel saw him,” I replied, the knowledge drifting through my mind. His puzzled look matched my own feelings.

  “Saw who? Daniel? If they know where he is, he’s in danger,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm. He pulled his hand from mine, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “I have to warn them.”

  “We smelled him,” I said quietly, the scent of death lingering in my nose. Jake paused, his hand on his phone, realizing what my words meant.

  “How long has Samuel been dead?” he asked finally.

  “Three days,” I answered.

  We were back on the highway now, both of us silent, until my stomach rumbled loudly. It was such a normal sound, but it made me jump. I was grateful I hadn’t eaten anything, because I was pretty sure I would have thrown it up in the woods.

  “We’ll stop and get something to eat,” Jake said, breaking our silence. “I need to think about this.” I nodded mutely, tears continuing to leak from my eyes.

  A few minutes later, he pulled off the highway at a little hole in the wall that served po’b
oys. He was around the car and opening my door before I even got my seatbelt undone. My hands felt clumsy as they unbuckled it. I wondered dimly if this was what shock felt like.

  “Come on. You’ll feel better, once we get food in you,” he said, reaching for my arm. The place was empty. One lady was behind the counter. She glanced up and smiled at our entrance. Jake forced a smile in return, while I wiped my face. I was grateful I had skipped the mascara this morning. My reddened eyes were bad enough without adding the raccoon look to them.

  “What can I get you folks?” she asked nicely, politely ignoring my tears, as she pointed to the menu written on a chalkboard on the wall.

  “I’ll take a catfish po’boy,” Jake said, looking over at me questioningly. I glanced at the menu, quickly naming the first thing I saw, “Debris po’boy.”

  “Y’all want onion rings or fries?” she asked, looking between us. Jake shrugged, looking at me. This question actually caught my attention. “Onion rings,” I said, already knowing they would be my favorite. Jake nodded and pulled me over to a table by the window, keeping his back to the wall. I glanced at the clock and saw it was after one. School seemed like forever ago now.

  I asked a question that had been worrying me since we had assumed they knew where Daniel was. “If they go after Daniel, will that put you at risk?”

  “I don’t know. It shouldn’t. Depends if they ask questions or shoot him on sight,” Jake answered bluntly. “I’m undercover, based on information Daniel provided us. Information his suppliers didn’t know he had. Of course, all of this is moot if they go after Daniel.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “It’s always a risk. There’s a chance of a leak anytime you go undercover. It’s why we limit who has access to the information.”

  His tone changed, as he reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m sorry about Samuel. I know you wanted to save him.” He rubbed his thumb over my fingers, as my hand rested in his. His hands were hard, the palms rough, and my hand felt tiny in his—safe. I nodded. I had wanted to save him. In fact, it never occurred to me that he wasn’t alive. “How did you know?” I asked him.

  “The smell,” he replied, his eyes hooded. “It’s something you never forget; the scent of death.”

  I swallowed back the newest onslaught of tears. We couldn't waste time on them now. I couldn’t shake the fear that Jake was in danger now, and that it was my fault.

  “We need more information. We’re missing something,” he muttered, thrumming his fingers on the scarred tabletop.

  I looked around the small room. Old wood paneling covered the walls with faded advertisements plastered over them. The tables and chairs were mismatched, looking as if they’d been bought at random garage sales thirty years ago. The place had been here forever. The food brought people back, because no one had ever bothered with atmosphere. A few minutes later, the waitress came out with our food. The smell made my stomach rumble loudly, causing her to smile.

  “Hungry? Well this should fill you up,” she said, pulling ketchup out of her pocket and setting it on the table between us. I nodded my thanks, along with Jake, as we dove in. The thing about a debris po’boy is, it’s a mess. The shredded roast beef was soaked in gravy before being piled on the po’boy bread. This one had a horseradish sauce and pickles added to it. I picked it up carefully, taking a bite, as the gravy ran over my hands. Jake’s was much neater; fried catfish piled high on a po’boy with mayo, lettuce and tomato. The onion rings were between us, a tangle of thinly sliced onions, barely battered in seasoned flour, and fried to perfection. We were silent as we ate, the food too good to allow for conversation.

  After several minutes and a dozen napkins later, we sat back from the table. The po’boys and onion rings were gone. Nothing but crumbs remained. Our waitress came by—Sally—her name tag read, and she asked us, “How was it? I’m gonna guess good, based on the happy plates. I’ll leave the check here, but take your time. It’s slow about now.” She refilled our drinks and took our empty plates.

  I sucked on my straw, slurping my Diet Coke, as we studied each other.

  “You feel up to playing twenty questions?” he asked, and I smiled slightly. The question was rhetorical. He was going to ask and I would answer, but I nodded anyway. I would play along. I wanted to stop these people as much as he did.

  “Is Daniel Phillips alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is he right now?”

  “A hotel room. Motel 6,” I replied, my response easy, since I recognized the location. He nodded, relieved. They hadn’t found him yet, or more likely they hadn’t gone after him yet. But I didn’t think that’s why they had killed Samuel. He saw something he shouldn’t have. But what?

  “Do the bad guys know where he is?”

  I shook my head. The question was too vague. I told him that and he frowned, thinking.

  “Do the people that killed Samuel know where Daniel is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know who killed Samuel?” His face popped into my mind instantly, sending a shudder through me. The face was cold and uncaring. His eyes were empty, leading me to believe he had no soul.

  “Yes, but I don’t know who he is,” I answered, analyzing the face in my mind.

  “Do you know his name?” Jake asked, desperately. I shook my head again. I didn’t.

  “But you knew my name.”

  “Yes, and that’s odd. I only knew your first name. I don’t know why,” I said, shrugging. My ability wasn’t a precise thing. I had never tested it to this extent. It was always just there.

  “That’s alright. You’re doing great. We know more than we did.” I raised my eyebrows at this. I thought we’d done nothing other than raise more questions.

  “Would you recognize the man if you saw him?” he asked of me, wanting to know if I could do it. I nodded, knowing I would never forget his face.

  “I can get mug shots. There’s a high chance this guy has been arrested before,” Jake said, before continuing the questioning.

  “Is Samuel’s death related to Daniel’s testimony?” he asked, and I was surprised at first, but then I realized we had never actually proven this. It had all been speculation to this point.

  “Yes,” I answered, confidently. Samuel was kidnapped and killed because Daniel had decided to testify against his employer.

  “I’m not sure what to ask you next,” he said in frustration. “So many questions I come up with are vague or about the future. My view of the current situation is too narrow to ask the right question.”

  I understood Jake’s frustration. We were somewhat blind, but still had more relevant information than the cops searching for Samuel Phillips. I looked back at the clock on the wall and realized it was later than I thought.

  “I have to get back,” I told him. “School’s almost out, and my grandfather’s going to be looking for me to get home.”

  He looked at me and nodded before laying money down on the check.

  “Alright, let’s go,” he answered.

  The trip back to town went by much faster, and we were turning into my driveway a few minutes later.

  “What’s your number?” he asked me, the car idling in the driveway. He seemed to realize his question could be misinterpreted. “I’ll have more questions,” he continued, slightly flustered. His apparent discomfort made me smile. I hadn’t assumed he wanted my number in anything but a professional capacity anyway.

  “I don’t have a phone,” I answered him. He looked at me dumbfounded, so I explained. “My mom can’t afford a cell phone for me.” I shrugged before continuing. “We don’t have a home phone either.”

  He looked perplexed, but shook it off quickly. “I’ll figure something out. I need to be able to get in touch with you. You know who a killer is. That’s dangerous information to have.”

  His words brought back the man’s face to my mind. I shuddered, because he was right. I never wanted to meet the man that would execute a child. The faster we found a name and pu
t this guy away, the better.

  Chapter Six

  I walked inside, dropping my book bag on the kitchen table before going to find Paw Paw. He was sitting on the back porch watching the hummingbirds fight over their feeder. I dropped a kiss on his head as he said, “Hey! You’re home already?”

  “Yep,” I said, stating the obvious, as I settled on the porch swing. “You want a snack?” I asked, already knowing his answer.

  “Yeah, that’d be good,” he said, looking over at me. “Graham crackers with peanut butter?” he asked, hopefully. I nodded, swinging in silence for a few minutes. That was the way it always was with my grandfather. We could sit in a comfortable silence for hours. Sitting here with him helped to push the horror of my day away. I allowed our familiar routine to calm my fears for Jake and myself, even though I wasn’t under any delusions. Today was only the beginning of our problems.

  Luckily, the school hadn’t called my mom about my abrupt departure from classes. I made it through dinner before going to bed early. My night was restless with dreams of a dead Samuel Phillips and the cold face that murdered him. It was a relief to get up in the morning.

  As I got ready, I found myself putting on mascara and taking extra care with my makeup. I frowned at myself, but it didn’t stop me from wearing my favorite V-neck top—the one that made my boobs look good. I dashed down the stairs, before I thought too hard about why I chose that specific top.

  I was early enough this morning that I had time to eat breakfast. I walked to the cabinet and got the Apple Jacks out. Paw Paw immediately said, “Fix me a bowl too.” I shook my head, since I was already getting two bowls down. He was reading the paper, as I set his cereal down next to him. I was already prepared for the day’s headline. “Phillips Boy Found Dead” it screamed above a photo of a body bag being loaded into the coroner's van. We didn’t talk. Just ate our cereal in silence, as he read.

  I could see Carly pacing, as I got off the bus.

  “Where were you yesterday? You totally didn’t study for the pop quiz did you? That’s why you bailed!” She started in on me immediately. “Did you hear about the Phillips kid? How horrible is that? Who could do something like that?” Her questions immediately brought back the memory of Samuel's dead body and the face of the man that killed him. “Are you okay? Your face just got super pale. Are you sick? Is that why you left yesterday?”