The Virginia Mysteries Collection: Books 1-3

by Steven K. Smith

  “Their bikes! It’s a perfect distraction.” They’d just have to be quick.

  Caitlin smiled and nodded in agreement.

  Sam crept closer, pushing lightly on the nearest bike to gauge its weight. It was heavy, but he figured if they both pushed on it at once, it would topple into the other two and they would fall like dominoes.

  Moving back up the slope, Sam stopped under a window that was closer to the campfire and Derek. The bikers were looking away, so Sam decided to take a chance. He stood up in front of the window, waving to get Derek’s attention. Maybe it was the darkness, or the glare from the fire, but Derek didn’t see him, and the men were too close for Sam to call out.

  Sam crouched back down under the window next to Caitlin. “I can’t just keep waving. One of them is going to turn around and see me. We have to let him know we’re here so he can be ready to run.”

  “What about this?” Caitlin held up a small pebble, motioning it toward the window. Sam nodded his head. It could work.

  He reached out his hand to take the pebble, but Caitlin was already standing at the window, her arm cocked to throw. Sam grimaced as she tossed the pebble, fearing that it might hit one of the metal bars, but it sailed right through.

  Derek’s arm jerked like something had bitten him.

  Bullseye!

  They both jumped into the center of the window, silently waving their arms back and forth. Derek raised his head, his eyes flashing surprise, before glancing back at the bikers and resuming a normal expression. He peeked back up at them casually. Sam held up one finger to indicate that he should wait for them. Derek gave a slight nod to show that he understood.

  Sam and Caitlin ducked below the window and hustled back down the slope to the bikes. “Ready?” Sam whispered.

  Caitlin nodded as they placed their hands on the first motorcycle, Sam’s on the seat and Caitlin’s next to the handlebars. As quietly as he could, Sam counted out, “One, two, three!” They heaved their weight into the bike with all their might.

  The bike toppled to its side, clanging into the next bike, which crashed into the third. All three toppled to the ground like dominoes, the clanging of metal piercing the silence.

  “Boom!” Sam yelled, trying to make the distraction as loud as possible.

  Sam and Caitlin immediately raced past the pile of motorcycles and up the slope on the other side of the building. Sam prayed that Derek had gotten the message and was making a run for it.

  As they ran, Sam heard the men shouting in the building. “The bikes!” yelled one of them, his head at the window. Sam made it to the trail just in time to see Derek climbing over the metal bars. He leaped down to the ground, landing hard, but staying on his feet.

  “Derek, over here!” called Caitlin, softly.

  “What are you guys doing?” Derek said, pausing in front of them.

  “We’re rescuing you!” exclaimed Sam. “It looked like you could use some help.”

  “Thanks!” said Derek. “We have to get out of here before they come after us!”

  They turned toward the trail, but before they could take another step, a bright light flicked on just ahead of them. They froze, shielding their eyes from the blinding light with their arms.

  “That’s far enough,” a deep voice growled from behind the light.

  Sam’s blood ran cold. He had thought they were home free. Caitlin reached over and squeezed his hand.

  They heard the sound of footsteps walking toward them as a tall silhouette came into the light. They stood, paralyzed, as the figure walked closer. Sam heard the sound of the other three men running up behind them. There was nowhere to go.

  They were trapped.

  The man moved closer until they could see his face through the light.

  Sam gasped.

  It was Mad Dog DeWitt.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “Don’t move.” Mad Dog glared down at them through the bright light. Sam realized it had to be the headlight from his motorcycle, just like the other lights they’d seen moving through the woods from across the river.

  Mad Dog looked past them to the three other men. “What’s going on here?” His voice was deep and gruff, as though he’d smoked too many cigarettes or gargled with gravel all his life. His beard was thick and black, mixed with flecks of grey. Sam looked up at his eyes and realized that DeWitt was older than he’d expected. Maybe that meant he’d killed more than just one man in a card game.

  “The one kid came into the hideout just as we rolled in,” said one of the other men. “He claimed to be looking for a hat or something, but we didn’t believe him.”

  “Jonny thinks he might be a spy from Hopewell,” added another man.

  Sam’s heart sank, imagining how a Union spy sneaking into Confederate territory might be captured and tortured. He wondered which of his fingers they would break first. He was too young to die!

  Mad Dog groaned, glancing down at the kids. “Sit down,” he ordered, pointing to a fallen log on the ground. They all did as they were told.

  “We’re sorry we got in your way,” said Derek. “We didn’t see anything.”

  “Our parents are at the gala over at Tredegar,” added Caitlin. “They’ll be looking for us any minute.”

  Sam glanced around nervously, knowing the gala was too far away for anyone to hear their screams. He thought of his mom and dad. He might never see them again, and he’d barely even gotten to talk with them since they had returned from their trip.

  “We won’t tell anyone about your hideout. We promise,” Sam pleaded. “Just let us go.”

  “Quiet!” barked Mad Dog, turning toward his partners. “What did you tell these kids? Do they think you’re kidnapping them? That’s just what we need.” He glanced back at them on the log. “You boneheads actually think these kids are spies? Since when do they send little girls in flowery dresses as spies?”

  The men were silent, searching for an answer. “Uh, that’s why they’re spies,” one of them finally stammered. “They’re in disguise.”

  Mad Dog shook his head wearily, stepping over to his bike. He flicked off the headlight, sending everyone into sudden darkness until Caitlin turned on her flashlight.

  Mad Dog turned toward them, crouching on his heels so he could look in their eyes. “What are your names?”

  “Derek.”

  “Caitlin.”

  “Uh, Sam, Mr. Mad Dog,” Sam said before he realized what he was saying. Derek nudged him with his elbow. “I mean, Mr. DeWitt, sir.”

  The big man was silent for a moment. Sam held his breath, wondering if this was how it felt to know you were going to die.

  But then the strangest thing happened.

  Mad Dog burst out laughing. It was a loud, deep-bellied laugh. “So, you know who I am, do you, kid? Very interesting. Maybe I’m more notorious than I thought. How old are you kids?”

  Derek answered quickly before Sam could say anything else. “I’m twelve and these two are ten.”

  DeWitt stood up. Gosh, thought Sam, he was as tall as a tree.

  “Listen, kids, no one is going to hurt you,” Mad Dog said. He looked at the others. “Isn’t that right, boys?”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “Absolutely. We’re not savages.”

  “My name’s Luke,” said Mad Dog. “And this is Jonny, that’s Chris, and over there’s Bobby Ray.”

  Caitlin turned her head. “Wait a minute, but aren’t you the Confederate Ghosts? We heard you were a dangerous biker gang.”

  “Yeah, that’s us. But I’m afraid we’ve gotten a bad rap over the years,” said Mad Dog. “We’re just a bunch of guys who love riding our bikes and celebrating our southern pride.” He turned to the others. “Isn’t that right, boys?”

  “You know it, Luke!”

  “God bless the South!”

  Sam’s mind was whirling. What kind of biker gang was this? “But we saw you on Monument Avenue circling the Robert E. Lee statue. You almost ran me over outside the bookstore
!”

  “That was you?” Mad Dog laughed. “Well, what were you doing stepping into the road in front of traffic, kid? You look smarter than that. As for our parade, we were commemorating the General and the courage of our brothers who fought in the War of Northern Aggression. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Northern Aggression?” asked Caitlin. “Don’t you mean the Civil War?”

  Mad Dog grunted and looked over at his buddies. “Well that’s a matter of perspective, missy. We can agree to disagree on that point tonight.”

  “Wasn’t nothing civil about that war, no sir,” said the biker named Chris.

  “And what about Hollywood Cemetery?” asked Derek. “We saw you by the Jefferson Davis statue.”

  Billy Ray stepped toward them, pointing. “See! They’re following us, Luke! I told you they were Hopewell spies. I think we should hold them.”

  “Shut up, Chris,” ordered Mad Dog. “I think you three have done enough to scare these kids tonight.” He looked down at Derek. “You weren’t supposed to see that, kid. It was a private moment for our club, something that’s been celebrated for years. There’s nothing all that terrible about it. We were just paying our annual respects to our Confederate president. Jeff Davis was a good man. We have celebrations for other presidents, don’t we?”

  “Yeah,” answered Derek.

  “Well, no difference,” said Mad Dog.

  Sam tried to process all this new information. “So you aren’t going to use us as a northern blood sacrifice?”

  Derek covered his face with his hand, and Caitlin gave a nervous giggle. Even as he said it, Sam realized how crazy that sounded.

  All four men burst out laughing.

  “Hey, Jonny, is this the week for the blood sacrifices, or is it next week?” Mad Dog hollered.

  “No, I think it was last week,” Jonny answered. “But maybe we should hold them for some extra inventory.” He laughed some more. “If I’d have known the kid was a Yankee, I’d have held on to him a little tighter!”

  Sam decided to keep his mouth shut from now on.

  Mad Dog turned back to them. “So what are you kids really doing out here on the island at night?”

  “Yeah, if you’re not spies,” said the biker named Chris.

  “Well, it’s kind of my fault,” said Derek. “A couple of jerks from my school forced me to come across the bridge to get one of their hats.”

  “But there really wasn’t a hat,” said Caitlin.

  “Sean had it in his pocket the whole time,” said Sam.

  Derek turned to Sam in surprise. “He did?” He looked down at the ground. “I’m such an idiot. I should have just ignored them.”

  Mad Dog spoke up. “Sounds like you have a bully in your midst, son.” He turned to Billy Ray and Chris. “What do we do with bullies around here, boys?”

  Billy Ray’s eyes narrowed as he spoke in a deep voice. “We gut ‘em and feed ‘em to the river ghosts.” He let out a sinister laugh.

  River ghosts? Sam didn’t want to think about that again.

  Derek leaned over to Mad Dog. “I thought you were the ghosts, no?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that why you have that painting on the wall back there?” said Sam, pointing back to the hydro plant.

  “There’s no such thing as ghosts for real,” said Caitlin.

  “Don’t think so, huh?” chuckled Mad Dog. He leaned up against a tree and glanced around at the darkness. “Do y’all know what this island used to be back in the war?”

  “A prisoner-of-war camp,” answered Sam.

  “Correct,” said Mad Dog. “But a lot of Yankees never made it off of this island. They’re still here, buried in the ground.”

  “We’ve heard this story,” interrupted Derek. “About how the Union ghosts fight with the Confederate soldier ghosts on the river.”

  “It’s just a story,” said Caitlin.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” answered Mad Dog. “But let me tell ya, I’ve seen some things that make a man wonder.” He looked off in the direction of the rapids.

  “What kind of things?” asked Derek.

  “Lights. When there’s no moon. No vehicles. No flashlights. Dancing over the river. Strange sounds near the rapids.”

  Sam shivered. He didn’t want to hear any more ghost stories, especially out here in the dark with a biker gang. He stood up from the log. “I think we need to get going.”

  Mad Dog chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it’s getting late. If your parents are really over at Tredegar, we need to get you back before they start missing you.”

  Derek looked over at the motorcycle behind Mad Dog and grinned. “Got any extra helmets?”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “I don’t think this is a good idea…” moaned Sam, climbing up on the seat behind Mad Dog. He’d thought that Derek was joking when he suggested the bikers give them a ride back to the gala on their motorcycles. For some reason, DeWitt thought it was funny and agreed. He seemed to get a kick out of the kids.

  For someone that was supposed to be such a bad dude, DeWitt seemed strangely nice, in a gruff sort of way. Sam tried to remind himself that the other three guys had held Derek in the hydro plant, but they seemed more dumb than mean. Mad Dog was definitely the leader for a reason.

  While Sam sat on the back of Mad Dog’s bike, Derek climbed onto Jonny’s and Caitlin onto Chris’ bike. Bobby Ray, the fourth member of the gang, hung back to keep an eye out for any other Ghost members that might show up. Mad Dog seemed to be most annoyed at Billy Ray, since it had been his idea to hold Derek.

  Sam wore Mad Dog’s extra helmet, but it was too big, so they tightened the chin strap until it almost choked him. It still didn’t feel very safe, but Mad Dog told Sam to just hold onto his chest tightly and that they wouldn’t go too fast. Sam thought that anything more than standing still would be too fast, but he kept his mouth shut.

  Mad Dog bounced his weight on the motorcycle, kicking a pedal near the ground as the beast roared to life. He squeezed the accelerator on the handlebars and the engine revved. For a moment, Sam worried that Mad Dog was going to tear off into the woods like a rocket, but instead, he eased forward slowly, making a gradual turn onto the trail.

  Sam realized that he was breathing too quickly, so he tried to calm down. Everything had gotten crazy since they’d run into Cameron and Sean by the water. He gave a nervous wave back to Caitlin. She didn’t seem overly worried about the ride. Derek looked like he was having the time of his life, ready to do enormous motocross jumps over mounds of dirt like they’d seen on TV if given the chance.

  The brothers looked a bit ridiculous wearing their collared shirts and khaki pants with the big helmets. Caitlin in her flowered dress and Chris’s spare helmet was something Sam had never thought he would see. They were quite a contrast to Mad Dog and his crew, all in black leather vests with their tattoo-covered arms.

  “My grandson is about your age.” Mad Dog’s voice rang through Sam’s head.

  The helmets must have microphones in them. Did he say grandson? How could Mad Dog DeWitt be old enough to have a grandson? He was supposed to be young and mean and wild.

  “Is he in the gang, too?” asked Sam.

  Mad Dog chuckled. “Nah, he’s in school just like you. Everything isn’t always as sinister as it might appear to be, Sam.”

  “So I guess you’re going to tell me that you didn’t kill a man over a game of cards either?” Sam figured he might as well ask, since his life was now in this guy’s hands. He was starting to feel a bit more relaxed on the bike as they rode along the trail.

  “Killed a man, huh? Is that what you heard?” Mad Dog’s voice came back through the helmet with a distorted mechanical tin to it. There was silence for a while. “No, I never killed anyone, kid. Although, I did do a lot of dumb things when I was younger. I paid for it too. Spent two years in the state pen over at Wallens Ridge.”

  Sam was pretty sure that meant prison. He thought about Mr. Haskins’ story. “Were you playing
cards?”

  Mad Dog chuckled again. “Well, there may have been a game of cards involved, but no murders. I can promise you that.” The bike picked up speed leaving the heavily wooded trail and moved onto the island’s main loop. “Hang on. We’re going to go a bit faster.”

  Sam tightened his grip around Mad Dog’s vest, looking back to check on the others. Two headlights followed close behind, but he couldn’t see anyone’s faces in the darkness. He hoped Caitlin was doing alright and that Derek wasn’t trying to drive.

  “Are we going over the suspension bridge?” Sam asked.

  “Nah, that bridge isn’t for vehicles. We’re going out the back of the island and over the Lee Bridge. You have a helmet on, so we’re legal. Hang tight!”

  The bike slowed, turning around a metal fence, then went down a long narrow straightaway next to the train tracks. They sped up as the tires hit the blacktop of the main road, and soon they were flying along on the highway that ran over the suspension bridge and across the river.

  TWENTY-SIX

  The giant spotlights from the gala lit up the sky as Mad Dog turned down the lane along the river to Tredegar. Sam wondered if his mom and dad or Caitlin’s parents had noticed they were missing. His stomach turned when he thought about explaining where they’d gone, but he was glad to be safe—as safe as he could be riding on the back of a motorcycle in the dark with a biker named Mad Dog!

  As they approached the parking lot, Sam saw two figures walking along the side of the road. It was Cameron and Sean. “Stop!” Sam exclaimed into the helmet microphone, squeezing Mad Dog’s chest tighter.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Mad Dog.

  “Up there.” Sam pointed up the road. “It’s the kids that made Derek run onto the island.”

  Mad Dog put his foot down on the pavement to steady the bike. “Really...well maybe we should teach them a little lesson. What do you think?”

  “That would be sweet!” said Sam, smiling inside his helmet.

  Mad Dog waved over the other two bikes, motioning for them to follow his lead. Sam slid off the seat and Derek and Caitlin quickly joined him on the pavement behind the motorcycles. Cameron and Sean had stopped walking and were staring at the three headlights that were now moving in their direction. Sam remembered how it felt to stand in front of Mad Dog’s headlight. He hoped the teenagers were as worried as he had been.