by C. M. Sutter
“So you’re saying the person who was in that truck kidnapped my wife?”
“It’s looking that way, Mr. Gentry.”
I visually checked the distance from the car to the outhouse. It was a hundred feet or so. “You didn’t hear anything, like screams for help from your wife?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t hear a damn thing.”
I gave my colleagues a concerned glance. To me, that meant Gary had disabled Melanie long enough to get her into the truck and speed away. At that point, we had no idea what direction he went, but I would put my money on him crossing the border into Idaho then heading south into Utah. Luckily, being in the FBI gave us jurisdiction throughout the country. That also told me Gary probably didn’t know we were involved in the hunt for him.
We needed to jog Ben’s memory since we had a good description of the truck from Pete. If that actually was the vehicle we were searching for, along with knowing the plate number in case Gary took to the interstates, we should be able to track him down in short order.
I went ahead and asked, “Ben, is there any chance the advertising on the side of the truck was for a pizza delivery company? Maybe Guido’s Pizza? It’s really important, but if you don’t know, don’t feel obligated to say it was. Just be honest. Any answer is okay.”
He squeezed his eyes closed and thought. “I see an image of food, even though it was only for a split second. It could have been a slice of pizza. Wait! I remember seeing the word ‘slice’ somewhere in the ad.”
That was enough of a positive ID for us. The truck was one and the same, and Gary had Melanie—there was no doubt about it. We had to update the BOLO with a new description. I walked away, called Taft, and gave her the news.
The good thing about the region was that the area was mountainous, and that gave Gary little choices in roads to take. Most were interstates, but there were several state highways too. He had a good hour and a half on us—pushing two—so we had to move fast. A nationwide updated alert would go out for a white box truck with the delivery service logo, “Guido’s Gourmet Pizza—Our Own Slice of Italy,” written on the side with a picture of a slice of pizza. A truck like that should be easy to spot.
A memory buzzed through my head like a lightning bolt, and I had to share it with my colleagues. Ben was back at his car with our contact information, and we were about to head out.
“Guys,” I said, “I just remembered something.”
Tommy tipped his head. “Yeah, what?”
“Well, it’s something Renz and I would know from the interview with Hope’s and Claire’s parents at the Danielses’ home.”
Renz furrowed his brow—it was obvious he didn’t remember.
“The cat. Remember Diane shooing the cat off the couch so we could sit down?”
He shrugged.
“She called the cat by name—Guido.”
Renz shook his head. “Damn it, you’re right.”
Chapter 41
Gary hugged the two-lane road along Bear Lake as he traveled south. He would exit onto State Route 30, which would eventually turn into US Highway 30, but he couldn’t take a chance on anything larger than a state highway. Even the US highways were too exposed. Hope was gone for good. Leon was dead, and Claire was a liability who he couldn’t risk hanging onto for much longer. It would be a slow, deliberate drive through mountainous backroads, but he needed to get to Central City and do it while staying off the main highways. He would travel south on State Highway 16 until it turned into State Highway 89, when he would cross back into Wyoming. That would skirt the eastern part of Utah as State Highway 150, but then it would veer west—not the direction he needed to go. Mountainous areas were preventing him from heading east.
Gary pulled off onto a dirt road and slowed to a stop. He had to check out his options, and he needed to take a leak anyway. Stopping at one of those comfortable welcome centers at state borders where there were food machines, coffee, soda, and clean bathrooms was a risk he couldn’t take. State patrol units often hung out at those facilities.
After weighing his options, Gary concluded the only thing he could do was stay on those back roads. It would take several days to get to Central City, but getting there was more important than getting there fast. Driving those country roads would also make dealing with the two tied up in the back far easier.
His new arrival screamed through the tape covering her mouth, but her effort was in vain. Her voice was too muffled to be a problem. Gary climbed into the back and grinned as he moved closer to her. She writhed frantically to free herself.
“You’re only going to tear up your skin by doing that. I guarantee you aren’t going anywhere, so save your energy and relax. If you piss me off, you won’t like the results.”
He walked farther back to check the food supply he’d taken from the old man’s house at Hideaway Rentals. They had enough to last the three of them another day. Gary returned to the cab, opened the driver’s-side door, and climbed out. He sized up the area and checked his surroundings. No other vehicle was in sight, and given the fact that the dirt road he was on wasn’t much more than an overgrown path probably used only by hikers, he wasn’t worried. He returned to the truck and looked from Claire to the new woman. “I guess now is as good a time as any to give you something to eat. What you get now should hold you over until tomorrow.” He ripped the tape off the new woman’s mouth. “What’s your name, honey?”
She spit in his face and was met with a closed fist to the nose. Gary wiped his cheek and sneered at her. “Stupid bitch. Looks like you’re going without a meal today.” He turned and crossed to Claire’s side of the truck.
“Wait, I have to pee.”
“Tough shit. It’s your body, so figure out how to hold it.” He knelt at Claire’s side and peeled the tape off her mouth. “Want some chips and water?”
“Yes please.”
Gary looked over his shoulder at the newcomer. “See how that works? You play nice, and I’ll play nice back.” He fed Claire one chip at a time then gave her half a bottle of water to drink. “Here, have a piece of cheese, too, before it spoils.” He folded the cheese slice in half and placed it in her mouth, ate several pieces himself, and polished off the bottle of water. “Time to hit the road.” He grabbed the roll of tape, stretched a piece over the new woman’s mouth, then returned to Claire.
“Please, Gary. My lips are raw from you ripping that tape off. Can’t I go without it?”
“I don’t trust you, Claire, and you haven’t given me any reason to change now.”
“I’m sorry I ran off.”
Gary laughed. “You’re sorry you ran off? How about being sorry that you killed my best friend so you could run off?”
“Please? It isn’t like we’re going to be around other people.”
“Except when I need to stop for gas.”
“You can pull over somewhere before that and put the tape on my mouth then.”
He shook his head. “Don’t make me regret this decision.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Gary grumbled as he returned to the driver’s seat and backed up to the main road. He would be driving through the night—it was the safest time. Between the remote mountain roads and the dark sky, he would remain invisible. Nighttime was his friend, and he needed to take full advantage of it.
Chapter 42
With the updated BOLO in place and all law enforcement hands throughout Wyoming, Idaho, and Utah, on deck, we returned to Hideaway Rentals to look through the rooms. There was a good chance Gary had stayed in one of them to catch a few hours of sleep before heading out again. Willard’s home had ten attached rooms that looked to be equivalent to two-star motel accommodations at best. They smelled horrible, as if they hadn’t been aired out in years, and the furniture, as well as the bedding and towels, were old and tattered. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to stay there.
It was late afternoon when we reached the halfway point. I’d just closed the door to
room five, and so far we hadn’t found anything. Tommy and Fay had already looked through everything in the office space, and we had no reason to think Gary would spend much time in Willard’s living quarters other than to kill and steal from the old man. Our other two colleagues joined us in room six so we could finish up faster and move on to figuring out Gary’s route.
Inside that room, we immediately noticed that one of the beds had been pulled out from the wall.
“What’s up with that?” I stepped closer to the bed to give it a thorough inspection. Down on my hands and knees, I looked under it and spotted a piece of zip tie. “Hey, take a look at this!”
The others knelt down and looked.
Renz shook his head. “Let’s pull the bed out farther so we can get around it.”
We discovered more zip tie fragments at the front of the bed. Gary had somebody, who we assumed was Claire, zip tied to the frame, yet there wasn’t evidence of zip ties under the other bed.
“So when he cut the ties, he missed picking up everything?” Fay asked.
“That’s how I read it,” Tommy said. “I’ll search this room from top to bottom, and you guys can go through the other rooms. We need to get the hell out of here and find that truck.”
We continued on, found nothing, then gathered back in room six. Tommy had just finished his search and said he hadn’t found anything more.
Renz stepped over the threshold. “I’ll call Taft for an update on those plate readers.”
We needed a route to follow, and hopefully Maureen had something new to pass on. As we waited for Renz to finish his call, we gathered outside and joined the one deputy who had been told to stay behind.
“So, did Willard have any family in the area?” I asked.
“No, ma’am. His wife, Alice, died nine years ago. He gradually went downhill after her passing, and these rooms were all he had left to occupy himself.”
The whole thing saddened me. A helpless man had been killed for reasons I didn’t know or understand. I assumed Gary had just wanted his money, but by the looks of the rooms, I couldn’t imagine that being much.
Renz ended his call and walked over. The sun was about to set, and we needed some type of direction from our boss as to what our next move should be.
“Taft said none of the plate readers in Wyoming, Idaho, or Utah have had a hit on the box truck. She also said nobody as far as city, county, or state patrols have seen him.”
I was frustrated. “So a truck that size with a pizza advertisement logo on the side is invisible? That bastard has to be somewhere.”
“We need to see a map large enough to show us the secondary roads,” Tommy said.
The deputy tipped his wrist. “Our public library is open for another half hour. They have large maps.”
“That’ll work. What’s the address?” I asked.
“Come on. I’ll lead you there myself, and I’m sure they’ll stay open as long as you need them to.”
We followed behind the deputy’s car into town. Inside the library, Deputy Leeson explained to the librarian what we needed and asked if they would stay open a bit longer for us. She agreed and showed us to the table that held the oversized state maps. We thanked both of them and got busy. A thought bubbled in my mind, and I excused myself to make a call.
Standing in a back hallway, I waited as the phone rang on the other end. He finally picked up.
“Pete, it’s Agent Monroe.”
“Agent Monroe, what can I do for you?”
“You were right on target with that pizza truck. We’re at the border of Wyoming and Idaho, and a woman has been kidnapped in the area. The description of the vehicle the husband saw matched the truck you described.”
“Holy shit!”
I snickered. “You can say that again. I need your help, Pete.”
“Anything I can do, just name it.”
“Ask around. We need to know how many times that truck has been in Central City and where it was seen. You said you’ve lived in the area your entire life?”
“That’s correct.”
“Okay, do you know of, have seen, or have heard rumors of anybody living in the area and possibly on a piece of land outside the city limits, who is into illegal activities of any kind? The person is obviously a local, maybe has more money than they can account for legally, as in with a job, or seems shady? The person could possibly be a recluse, maybe has their property fenced and alarmed? I know I’m throwing a lot at you, Pete, but I believe there’s a kidnapping ring going on somewhere right in your backyard.”
“Damn! Let me chew on that. I’ll talk to Ted and the other lifelong residents I know in the area, especially the ones who are acquainted with people who have land. I’ll get the word out, Agent Monroe, and get back to you as soon as I can.”
“I really appreciate it, and there’s a good chance that truck is heading back your way, so keep your eyes peeled.”
“You can count on it.”
I ended the call and returned to the table where my colleagues were mapping out the likeliest route Gary would take.
“Everything okay?” Renz furrowed his brow.
“Yep. I made a call to Pete and asked for his help. My gut is telling me that the drop-off spot is somewhere in the Central City area. He’s a lifelong resident, and so are most of his friends. Somebody has to know or has heard of questionable characters or activities in the area. It doesn’t hurt to have as many feelers as possible out there helping us. It’s really no different than asking for the public’s help on news broadcasts.”
Renz nodded. “Great idea, Jade, and we need to get Gary’s, Claire’s, and Melanie’s faces on every news station in that three-state corridor.”
“Colorado too,” Fay said. “And that’s especially true if that’s really where he’s going.”
“The truck will be noticed before the occupants,” Tommy said.
“Okay, then we need to include a description of the truck and the plate number on TV along with the photos and the probable direction Gary’s headed. That ought to help a lot, and it’s time to get John Q. Public involved.”
Chapter 43
During the night, Gary had passed through Evanston, Wyoming, and followed the route he’d taken before—through Manila and Vernal. He finally exited US Highway 40 with a relieved sigh. He would get back on the two-lane roads and take them all the way to Colorado. Gary merged onto State Highway 45 south of Naples, Utah, and continued on.
He needed sleep. His eyelids felt like boat anchors, and even with the radio blaring and the windows open, nothing seemed to help. He had to find a place to stop, catch a few hours of shuteye, then be back on the road before daylight. If everything went according to plan, he would make it to Central City by early evening that next day. With luck and a little ass-kissing, Gary might be able to convince Charlie to allow him a place to rest on his property for a day before leaving again.
Even as tired as he was, Gary’s mind was in overdrive. He needed a reset, a different vehicle, and a new place to live. With that taken care of, he would be good to continue on, and even with bringing in two girls a week, he would still make plenty of money and remain under the radar.
Gary thought about the woman he’d snatched from the wayside and wondered if her husband was able to describe the truck to the authorities.
Maybe it’s time to pull off those decals before going any farther. I’ll take my chances with a plain white truck since it’ll be less obvious than one with a huge pizza slice on the side.
He reached Bonanza, a virtual ghost town, forty-five minutes later. Gary turned off the two-lane road, parked, and exited the truck. Behind the seat was a folding step stool, which Gary yanked out. He was tired, cranky, and unsure at that point what the future had in store for him. He hoped tomorrow, and with some sleep and miles behind him, his outlook would be better. Gary set up the step stool and began pulling off the magnetic decals. With that done, he climbed back into the truck.
Only a hundred feet ah
ead, Gary noticed a large barn set off the road. His curiosity was piqued since no house went along with that structure. He drove closer, pointed the high beams at it, and saw that it appeared abandoned. The roof had collapsed, and it was nothing more than a building waiting to fall flat to the ground. That night, it would be the perfect structure, given its size, to park behind, hide completely out of sight, and get some sleep. Gary pulled ahead into the weed-filled driveway, rounded the barn, and killed the engine.
Finally, a safe place to get some shut-eye.
He set his phone alarm for five a.m. and, after locking the doors, climbed into the back, bunched up his jacket under his head, and closed his eyes. He knew he would be out for the count within minutes.
“Gary?”
“What?”
“Just wondering where we are.”
“Near a nothing area that used to be a small town called Bonanza. Now shut up, and let me get some sleep.”
“Thanks for not taping my mouth.”
“You’re welcome, but you’re already making me regret it. Close your mouth, or I’ll grab the roll of tape and close it for you.”
Chapter 44
Since nobody had seen hide nor hair of the white box truck visually or by a license plate hit, we concluded that Gary was taking mountainous two-lane roads, which would slow him down substantially. We could only hope that he would run out of gas with no place to fuel up.
Taft said we should head to Colorado where the truck had been spotted on at least two separate occasions in Central City. Gary had a reason to keep returning to that area, and we were pretty sure we knew why.
Pictures of Claire, Melanie, and Gary were splashed across all channels throughout the region, along with the truck information. It would be difficult to spot them at night, but once daylight broke, there would be a four-state manhunt for them.
During our last phone call with Taft, she’d said she had directed the Gilpin County Sheriff’s Office as well as the Central City Police Department to be on the lookout for that truck.
