“Yeah, that’s a crappy cover story. It doesn’t hang together.”
“The whole thing was fishy. So, to try getting them out of here, I told them that most of the rentals have been to locals, but I’d overheard two people who’d dropped off a van talking about traveling east on the old Route 66 and maybe finding some of the ‘Easy Rider’ movie shooting locations. But I didn’t mention no names, and I didn’t verify that a Penny had been in here.”
“How’d that work? Did it satisfy them?”
“Not really. They said they wanted more information and got in my face again. And just then, two of my mechanics came in from the shop to talk about a returned truck that had some bad problems. They’re big, tough-looking guys who you know right away are people you don’t want to cross. I gave them a warning look and then shifted my glance over to these two strangers that signaled my guys to be on the alert. The strangers saw me doing this and realized it wasn’t a good idea to press the issue any farther.”
“Too bad you told them about ‘Easy Rider’ trippers, but I understand that you had to give them something plausible to get them out. What happened then?”
“They left, driving a large, white SUV. I think it was a Lincoln Navigator. They said they’d like to come back to talk again sometime. I think it was meant as a threat, or warning. I don’t think I gave them enough to start them after you though; it was pretty flimsy. Oh, and I didn’t tell them you were riding motorcycles. I didn’t want to give them any more.”
“Ahhhh, great! They’ll probably be looking for two people in a car.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Oh, and by the way, I do have Penny’s phone here. It’s in my safe.”
“You’re a good man, Fred. We’ll see you when we come in to pick up a van to take back to San Diego.”
“Okay, take care. But be on the lookout for a white Lincoln SUV. And take good care of that little honey of yours.”
“Thanks, Fred.”
“Salesman, we need another phone, with a new number. And add it to my account.”
Penny looked at Jim with a questioning face, saying, “So does he have my phone—do I still have a phone?”
“Yes, but you don’t want to use it again, there is something suspicious going on. We’ll pick it up on the way back.”
“What do you mean, suspicious?”
“How do you think two guys would know to drive to Fred’s business—in Needles California—and ask about your phone?”
“Some kind of GPS app?”
“Yeah, they’re called trackers. Trackers can get downloaded onto people’s phones without them ever knowing it. Someone might be tracking us.”
The salesman handed Penny her new phone, gave her the new number, and thanked them for their business.
As they started their motorcycles, Jim said to Penny, “We’ve been loafing along, not in any hurry, but we have to assume whoever is tracking us, is, or has, someone following us. And they are probably driving faster than we’ve been. They may be less than a day behind us.”
“We need to be careful then. So where to, now?”
“I want to go north a little way to Aztec. It’s off the ‘Easy Rider’ route, but there’s a ruin I’d like to see there. It’s supposed to have a large, intact Great Kiva. Maybe it’s the place we’ll get married if we can find a shaman to do it.”
“Can we stop for lunch first? It’s past two and I’m famished.”
“Sure, hon, I’m sorry. I focused so much on finding a place to get cell phones that I forgot about the time.”
“Do you want to abandon this trip and take a different route back to San Diego to avoid the possibility of running into those thugs if they are actually chasing us?” Jim asked Penny after they’d settled into a booth in the Old Farmington Cafe.
“I’d hate to do that. I’m happy being on this trip with you and I’d never forgive myself for quitting. We can avoid them, can’t we? They don’t have my phone to track anymore, if that’s what they were doing. They don’t know we’re on motorcycles and they don’t know what you look like, and maybe even me. Neither of us has ever been face to face with any of them.”
“That we know of . . . . Yes, those things are all in our favor, but we haven’t talked about the possibility they tracked your phone when you were at my house. If they did, then they can get my address, my name, and maybe a little information about me—like that I’m a motorcyclist—or even your or my driver’s license photos.”
“Could they do that?”
“Yes, if they’re good, and have contacts—sure they could.”
“We should assume they’ve got the info on you then, don’t you think?”
“We have to.”
“But that doesn’t mean I want to change my mind about going on with the trip. This is a huge country and it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“A man and a woman riding motorcycles through this rural country are sure to be noticed. We’ll stick out like—Wyatt and Billy.”
“Oh shit, that’s true. Look, I won’t let my hair hang out under my helmet; I’ll keep it all rolled up in there. And I won’t wear makeup, I’ll keep my helmet on all the time, and I’ll let you do all the talking. I think we can look like two guys.”
“Might work. But you’re still going to be Penny Lane in our room.”
“That’s easy. I’m not losing my femininity over this.”
“We’re heading straight back to San Diego if I see any signs of it. I won’t have it,” Jim joked.
“You won’t have it? I’d do it if I needed to, you know. Don’t challenge me.”
“Sorry, I guess I touched a nerve. I didn’t mean that I wanted to control who you are. In my stupid way, I was just saying I want you to stay like you are.”
“I know. I guess I slipped back into the tough old shell I had to put on daily to live in the job I used to have. ‘Shields up’, and all that. I’m sorry.”
Jim hadn’t seen that toughness in Penny before—her short-fuse defensiveness. But thinking about what he knew she had to put up with, day after day, he understood. He also realized it had to be a good thing; a woman needs to have survival instincts and ways of handling herself.
“Okay then, we press on?” Jim asked.
“Yes. I want to keep going.”
As they ate their New Mexico Cowboy’s Delight lunch of ribs, baked potatoes, beans, and roasted corn, Penny asked, “How would a tracker get installed on my phone? I haven’t lost it—before the other day back in Needles.”
“Leave it unattended somewhere? Like at a bar while you went to the restroom?”
“Oh, come on, you know a woman never goes to a restroom without her purse—which is where my cell phone lives!”
“It was just an example. It’s the kind of thing that happens all the time.”
“Yes, but the person who wanted to load the tracker on my phone would literally have to be following me around, waiting for the opportunity.”
“Yes, that’s the thing that’s hard to believe. Why would someone have been targeting you? Unless . . . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you left it in a place you thought was safe for a while.”
“My condo? I doubt it, the place has good security. But here’s something to consider.”
“What’s that?” Jim asked.
“The cabin. Remember I left the phone there the day we rode to Idyllwild? It was there all day. I locked the cabin, but who knows who else has keys for it?”
“Jesus, you’re right!”
They were both silent for a short while, thinking of the ramifications of what they might have just discovered.
Then Jim said, “If that’s when someone installed the tracker, they’d have known where you were when we rode up to Cholame later. And with us three hundred miles away, they’d know they’d have plenty to time to hit the cabin.”
“This sounds like how it happened,” Penny said, throwing her head back against the
booth’s high back. “But we still don’t know what they’re looking for—unless it is that area code notebook.”
“Penny, I have to ask you a personal question. Please don’t get mad at me for asking it, but it needs to be asked.”
Fidgeting a little, Penny said, “What is it?”
“I think you spent a night with Mack, if I understood that phone conversation when he first called you at my place. If that’s true, that also could have been where the tracker got installed.”
Penny pursed her lips, swallowed, and said, “That’s true, Jim. I did spend the night with him. And, I’ll admit it, it could have happened then. But, please don’t—”
Jim cut her off, saying, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You’re a mature woman and you can live your life as you want. I’m not bothered by it. I like the way you handle yourself and your life; that’s why we’re here together.”
“I feel stupid, I . . . I want you to know . . . I . . . don’t have any interest in him. He’s an old flame that turned up at a weak moment when I just didn’t give a damn, and—”
“Stop. I didn’t bring him up because I want you to feel you owe me something—an explanation—or an apology. I only wanted to suggest that Mack could be behind all this tracking stuff—and maybe more.”
Looking glum, Penny stared at the table before saying, “Jim, I’m never going to forgive myself if I did something dumb and you get hurt because of it.”
“Look, I’ll take my chances with you any day. You’re worth everything I’ve got,” Jim said, taking her hand.
Choking back tears, Penny answered, “Thank you. You always find the right thing to say when I need it.” After a short silence, she wiped her eyes, “Okay, then . . . now what?”
“Time to call Daggett.”
But Van Morrison was in his mind as he punched the numbers in his cell phone: She’s as sweet as Tupelo Honey . . . .
“Jim, the important thing is to get that notebook as soon as possible. I’ll get in touch with SDPD, fill them in on this, and push them to get over to Penny’s place to recover it,” Daggett said.
“What do you think they should do then?”
“It’s not my call, but I’m going to try to convince them they need to think of the danger you and Penny are in every moment the bad guys continue to think she has it or knows where it is. I think they should call a press conference, announce the discovery, and that they have the notebook. That way you and Penny should be off the hook since there’s no use for them to continue chasing you.”
“Maybe they’ll believe she made copies and will still want to take the copies—and her—out of play.”
“That’s why the police need to announce they have it. Once it’s widely known SDPD has all that information, copies are irrelevant. When the drug dealers in those networks learn their cover has been blown, entire networks will fall apart. No one is going to deal with others for fear of being caught dealing. They’ll know the cops will be staking out and watching all those names like hawks. This can disrupt the entire San Diego drug scene, so I’m going to push them to talk openly about the maps.”
“I like it Paul, I hope it plays out that way. Now that we know they have someone following us, what do you think we should do? Should we end the trip and come back to San Diego?”
“Hmmm. I don’t know if that’s a good idea. They know where you and Penny both live, so unless you have another place to go that they don’t know about and can’t find, you’re probably better off out there than you are coming back. I think you should just be careful, have fun, and let us try to cut this thing off back here. If we can shut down the top guys, the ones chasing after you have no reason to continue.”
“That’s what we were thinking, too.”
“Ok, I’ll keep in touch to let you know what’s happening. What will you and Penny do?”
“Continue our ride. And we are going to get married somewhere along the way.”
“Do you know where, yet? Or are you going to keep it a secret?”
“Maybe we do, but we’re not sure yet. I’ll let you know when we’ve figured it out. Right now though, we’re taking our time and having a nice, leisurely lunch.”
“Where are you now?” Asked the impatient voice over the noisy cell phone connection.
“We’ve been through every broken down, dusty, half-abandoned little burg on the road between Needles and Flagstaff on ‘not-so-romantic’ old Route 66 ‘til hell-won’t-have-it-anymore. We’re about to pull into Flagstaff for a good meal, a good bed, and no more of this bullshit chase, Arnie.” Ferdy said with sarcasm he didn’t try to control.
“See anything?”
“What the fuck are we supposed to see? Some people riding motorcycles painted up in the Stars and Stripes, with matching helmets and signs sewn on their backs saying, ‘Easy Rider’?”
“Cut the shit, I don’t need it. We finally got a name for the owner of the place on Caminito Castillo. He’s Jim Schmidt. We found out by talking to the neighbors that he’s a biker. We’ve had a guy sitting on the place for two days now, and he hasn’t seen anyone. So, we had Jerry crack a door for a look around. No one there. And guess what?”
Sighing, Ferdy said, “What?”
“Her Mustang is in the garage. She’s been with him—Schmidt.”
“Okay, so the two of them are traveling together, stopped in Needles, and that’s the last we know?” Ferdy asked.
“We know a little more. She’s a biker, too. Mack gave that up to us when we leaned on him before they put him in jail. It didn’t mean nothin’ to us until we found out about Schmidt. Then when we hit her place yesterday to get the notebook, we looked in her garage and, bingo, no Mustang and no bike. Just a bunch of Harley Davidson manuals and biker stuff. We’re guessing they left Needles on bikes they hauled over there in a truck. And we think she forgot her cell phone and left it in the truck or somewhere in the rental place. That’s why the tracker got stuck on the van and truck rental joint.”
“So, now what?”
“You’re looking for a man and woman riding bikes along the ‘Easy Rider’ route.”
“Feels like what we’ve been doing. It’s a needle in a haystack: two motorcycles in maybe fifteen hundred miles of open road between California and the Louisiana State line.”
“We’re sending out more teams. You’ve got California, Arizona, and New Mexico. Another team has Oklahoma and Texas, and another has Arkansas and Louisiana.”
“That’s still a needle in a haystack; make that three haystacks.”
“Look, you don’t have to screw around with California since you’re already in Flagstaff. You’ve only got Arizona and New Mexico to cover.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better, Arnie. But why do we care, now that we have the maps?”
“She might have copies, so we’ve still got to find her. Get your asses in gear. Tell Tommy to drive fast and not loaf along like he usually does. And ask a lot of questions; you know, like cops.”
“We’re gonna average about three miles an hour doin’ that. There’s gotta be a better way.”
“I hope you find it, then. Carlos is ready to kill something.”
“Okay, Arnie, tell Carlos to relax. Have a nice day.” Asshole . . . .
Nineteen - Too Late
“Look, Jim! There’s a wedding planner here in Farmington who can arrange a traditional Hopi or Navajo wedding. She can provide a shaman, or preacher, or justice of the peace, or whatever’s needed. It says the marriage will be recognized in all U.S. states. And she’ll arrange the marriage licenses, celebrations, accommodations, and anything else needed,” Penny said with a big grin as she looked at the search results on her new phone.
They were sitting in the quiet lounge of the restaurant where they’d finished lunch and were spending an hour or two, relaxing over cocktails and deciding their next moves—and where to get married.
“Great! Call her!”
After a fifteen-minute phone c
all with much waiting while the woman checked her schedules and the information she had on people who could perform a traditional Native American wedding, Penny held her finger over the phone’s microphone and said, “She said she can do it, but not for several days. Mid-next week would be the earliest. What do you think? I want to do it, don’t you?”
“Can she arrange for it to be in the Great Kiva in Aztec?”
Penny relayed the question to the planner. “She says yes, but it has to be after four p.m. when there are no more tourists.”
“That’s perfect. We don’t want any tourists around, anyway. Tell her yes!”
“Jim, this is too much fun! I want to celebrate, let’s go out for a good dinner.”
“Let’s find a motel first and then go out. I need to get this road dirt out of my hair and off my face.”
“Me too. Maybe there’ll be a nice pool and spa.”
Penny and Jim settled into a cozy booth by the fireplace in the Farmington Rustic Ranch Restaurant.
“Call them. I want to make sure they can get here,” Penny said to Jim.
Jim found Steve in the few numbers he’d remembered and had added to his new phone’s contacts list. He punched “call.”
“Steve, It’s Jim. I wanted to call to let you and Ali know about our wedding.”
“Hey, man! Are you really going to do it?”
“Yes. Next Wednesday at four in the Great Kiva in the ruins in Aztec, New Mexico. Will you and Ali come?”
“Hell yes! If we get wheels up by seven, we can land in Farmington before noon. We’ll get a car and meet you wherever you want. I can’t wait to tell Alice.”
“Great! This will be very casual, so you don’t need to pack any dressy stuff. We don’t have anything other than our riding leathers but jeans and casual shirts. We’ll meet you at the airport at noon and help you get organized and then go somewhere to hang out until the wedding.”
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