They caught up on things, Maria weaving a fabric of lies that she had worked out in advance. When asked, she deferred coming to visit for the time being, saying she needed to reconnect with her husband-to-be and get settled into her life again.
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know a thing.” Maria told Lovelle afterward. “But, that doesn’t mean Cedric isn’t keeping her in the dark. He knows that we’ve been close for years. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn't planning on using her to lure me in.”
“He’s a pretty smart operator. If he knows about us, then he’s sure to have figured out that you’ve been spying on them for at least some time. If I were him, I'd do exactly that.”
“When do you think I should call her again? I told her I would get in touch when I was settled somewhere and could give her a call back number.”
Lovelle pondered the question for a long moment. “I don’t think we should wait too long. Just long enough to let her talk to Baker. If he’s up to something, he’ll tell her to try to get you to a meeting. If she pushes you to come, or even if she acts oddly, then we’ll have to presume the worst.” Maria never got to make that follow up call.
***
Elton Hardy sat atop the same roof where Lovelle had perched so many times before. He watched through his own spotting scope as the members of the 7/17 club arrived one by one for the monthly meeting. A day earlier he had informed Baker that he was not able to attend. Baker had expressed his regret, since a member Hardy had yet to meet was coming in from Mexico.
"Juan is a really sharp guy. I've been trying to convince him to move north for longer than I can remember."
"Well, one thing we have is time." Hardy said. What he thought was, Wonderful, saves me a trip to Mexico.
He counted as Baker, Caroline, and four others entered the building. He was sure no more were coming. The locals were all there, and when their Canadian counterpart attended he always arrived a day early and rode to the meetings with Baker. When Baker arrived alone he knew the Canadian would not be in attendance. The only remaining member was Maria, and he believed that she had yet to let anyone in the club know she was even in the country. Still, he waited patiently just to be sure. It would not only be a shame to miss such an opportunity, but, if someone came in the aftermath of what he was about to do, they might become very hard to deal with. He had faced very little difficulty thus far precisely because no one saw him coming. So he waited a good half hour before climbing down from his perch and entering his rental. There, he removed a transmitter from his duffel bag. He flipped a toggle on the device and a red light illuminated. He lifted a safety cover with his thumb, exposing a button. This he pressed as nonchalantly as turning on a light. The explosion that followed was staggering. It was much the same device he had used to kill the Skippers celebrating their birthday in China. It was really overkill for the job, but, leaving a surviving Skipper would be very bad for his mission. He was out to kill all the Skippers, and having a survivor go into hiding would complicate that even more than having one find out what he was up to before he got to them.
He was driving away when he was overcome by the strange feeling he always got. The sensation was powerful enough that he had to pull over before he had a wreck. It grew in strength each time he removed another time traveler. Taking out so many at once hit him harder than he had anticipated. He had killed more on that one day in China, but, at that time there were dozens of travelers left. Now, by his reckoning, he had just killed six of the final ten, and the effect on him was almost debilitating.
As the feeling continued to overwhelm him, he feared he was in serious jeopardy. Not from the effects, but, from his proximity to the scene of the crime. He was parked conspiuously on the shoulder of the road just a mile from the club. All the evidence needed to convict him was in the car, and he was unable to simply drive away.
He lay down across the seat as emergency vehicles raced by. Fire trucks, ambulances, and police cruisers passed, and where he would normally have laughed inwardly at the futility of their efforts, he instead found himself in a state of near panic. It was a feeling that was so foriegn to him that he didn't really recognize it. He had been the master of his own destiny, a man with a clear mission for more than a hundred years. At no point during all that time had he ever believed that anything, or anyone, posed a real challenge to his success. But, being identified as the killer of the club would certainly alert Lovelle. And giving the vigilante the upper hand could mean the end for him. He could find himself in prison while a deadly killer had plenty of time to discover all the things that he had done, and to come for him. He would spend the rest of this life bucking for solitary confinement, knowing that any trip into the open air might be just the opportunity that this practiced sniper would need to remove him from existence the same way he had removed 157 others over the last 6 lives.
Finally, the near paralyzing disorientation began to ebb. He was able to restart the car and at least pull it off of the main road and into a subdivision. There he could more safely sit and recover. After nearly 25 minutes, he was well enough to finally drive away. However, he only drove a few miles before he found himself approaching a police road block.
He remained relatively calm as he again ducked down a side street. Knowing that it might only be a matter of a minute before someone came roaring through the neighborhood to find the car that had turned off. He ditched the car in a driveway and headed out on foot. He ran across the road and into a fenced back yard. Without the slightest hesitation he jumped fences, emerging onto street after street and then back into the cover of more fenced yards. Finally, he found himself in a wooded area beyond the neighborhood and was able to bypass the road block.
Although he had not intended for the police to find the car on the night of the bombing, Hardy had always expected them to find it. He had been sure to make it nearly impossible to ever trace to him. It was a stolen car, with no connection to him. He had never been in contact with the vehicle without gloves. And this was not the age of DNA forensics that was to come. Once he had escaped the police cordon, he was in the clear.
***
News of the explosion at the club was impossible for Lovelle and Maria to miss. By the next day, they had both heard all of the available details, and could fill in some that the police would probably never get. At the time, Lovelle was in Arkansas, removing a serial killer before he ever got the chance to act. He called Maria and asked her to move out of the apartment until he returned.
"Do you think someone is coming after me?" Maria didn't seem to believe it.
"If not now, then eventually. Someone is killing Skippers, and I don't intend for us to be next. This is just too much like China. And I think it explains why no one has sent the authorities for me."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think the man who was stalking us worked for Baker. I think he was lining up his targets. I think he blew up the club, and we're on his list too."
"Then why not kill you before now? He had plenty of opportunity."
“I’m not sure. Maybe he was just watching to see if I could lead him to more Skippers. Maybe it had something to do with you still being in Cuba. Maybe we slipped away just in time. If he wasn’t working with Cedric, then maybe he’s not sure about us yet. If he doesn’t know what Baker knew about us, then maybe he doesn’t realize that this isn’t what I do in every life. He might not know who you are.”
“Then he probably doesn’t know where we are.” Maria argued.
“Do you want to bet your life on that?” Lovelle was clearly agitated with her resistance. “Look, he probably doesn’t know we live in Laughlin. He probably would have tried to kill me before going after the club and making headlines. But probably isn’t good enough. Even if we think we have some idea what this guy is up to, we haven’t a clue as to why. So we don’t know what the logic is behind the order of his work. What we do know is that, whether he has our address in Laughlin or not, he doesn’t know that you’re going to
meet me at our favorite getaway just as soon as you can get there.”
“Okay.” Maria conceded. She needed no clarification to know that Lovelle was taking about Lake Havasu, and that he was concerned that the phone might be tapped as well. “Are you almost done?”
“I’m not worried about that. I’ll be out of here by tomorrow. Sooner if I can catch a flight.”
They said their goodbyes and I love yous without a hint of the animosity that had been there a few minutes before. Their many years of experience both before and since their meeting had taught then how to let go of the less important things. They would be together on the London Bridge by tomorrow evening, and that was what counted.
***
Maria didn’t dawdle. Regardless of how they got there, the decision had been made and she was totally on board. They each kept a bag packed with everything they needed for a week on the road. They had done so for as long as they had been together. She needed to do nothing more than grab the bags and head out to the car, which she did. She stepped out onto the landing of their apartment complex and felt a sudden pain in her left breast. She winced and grabbed at her chest with her right hand. Her left arm lay limp at her side. She pulled her hand away and saw the blood that was rapidly soaking her sweater. She fell to her knees and heard the “thwup” of another round pass within an inch of her head, and the crack of wood splintering in the door jam behind her. She had barely a moment to register what was happening before a third shot passed through her eye socket and into her brain
Across the road, in the back of another stolen vehicle, Hardy watched Maria’s body collapse through his rifle scope. Satisfied that the job was done, he laid the rifle back in its open case and said aloud. “I am sorry Maria. I should truly have liked to have spared you. I do so admire your husband’s work. But, it can’t be helped. I will apologize to him just as soon as I have the chance.” As he worked his way back to the driver’s seat he continued, “I have just one more errand before I finally get to speak with him.”
Hardy was just out of the lot when that familiar feeling struck again. Although nowhere near as intense as the night before, it was proportionally far greater than after any previous single killing. He nearly had to pull over this time as well, but, managed to keep his hands on the wheel and his eyes open. The feeling was not only less intense, but shorter lived as well. He was soon on highway 95 headed back to McCarren airport in Las Vegas.
***
Once again, Lovelle was forced to modify his mission due to the presence of the observer. He could no longer wait for the right opportunity to remove this subject. He had to take him out today. He was ticketed on a flight at eight that evening and the man would have to be killed some time between leaving work and arriving home to his unsuspecting wife. It was the only time Lovelle could be sure the man would be alone. He decided a long range shot in either of the populated areas, during rush hour, risked too much in the way of collateral damage. He wouldn’t risk hitting a bystander. He would have to do the job close in again, which eliminated the busy parking lot behind the factory where the man worked. The quiet of the man’s neighborhood posed the least risk of unintended consequences, or of getting caught.
Lovelle hatched a quick plan and was in position when his target arrived home. He had confirmed that the wife was still away and he lay in wait right in the couple’s back yard. Had the wife arrived first, he was sufficiently concealed to remain undetected for at least the short amount of time necessary. But, the man was the first to arrive, as had been the case on every day since Lovelle began stalking him. The serial killer stepped out of his car and Lovelle strode out of the backyard purposefully to meet him. Without hesitation Lovelle leveled his suppressed .22 and shot the man four times. He placed two in the man’s chest to incapacitate him, and two more in the head to finish the job.
He reached down and pulled the car keys from the man’s dead hand. To go along with the luck he had been having lately, the wife arrived just as Lovelle started the engine. She saw the reverse lights on her husband’s car, and was prepared to pull back out of the drive and allow Lovelle to leave. But, she spotted the body on the walkway leading to her door and slammed on the brakes. Lovelle did not hesitate. He had no intention of having an altercation with this woman, who he knew to be totally ignorant of her mate’s crimes. He cut the wheel and accelerated across the lawn, over the curb, and into the street.
The woman made no attempt to pursue, and three turns and four blocks later Lovelle pulled in behind his rental. The plates had been changed with a set he stole from a pickup and Lovelle was disguised with a ball cap pulled down low, dark sunglasses, and a fake beard. He switched cars as nonchalantly as possible and drove away. If anyone happened to get the plate number, the police would immediately know they were stolen, and the true owner would never be a real suspect.
Lovelle drove another six miles to a half full shopping center parking garage where he was able to change off the plate without being observed. There had been a security camera, but, he had disabled it during the night. He had disconnected one of the wires and trimmed it back until it was barely long enough to reach the connection. To the unsuspecting observer it would look as though it had been too taught and had gradually pulled free, and so would be unlikely to cause any scrutiny of the other footage from around the garage. From there he was then able to take his car back to the airport rental lot and catch a shuttle to the terminal.
***
Lovelle arrived at their favorite hotel in Havasu around mid-morning. He managed not to panic when he discovered that Maria was not registered. He was all but certain she would have known where he had meant her to go. They had talked at length about how much they enjoyed Lake Havasu as a getaway. It had been a convenient quick trip from Las Vegas, and was even closer to their new home in Laughlin. There was no place they went as often. And since discovering this quaint little Inn on their second visit, they had never stayed anywhere else. He was even surer that she would head there because no other place they liked so well was a simple drive. She would have surely questioned his certainty that they would be together the following day if she had been at the mercy of the airlines. But, Lovelle calmly took a room, leaving a message for her at the front desk in case she was delayed, and set about to track her down.
He spent hours on the phone, racking up charges, finding numbers and calling hotels and bed and breakfasts all over the country. He would check every place they had ever visited, and they liked to get away “Yes, I’m looking for a couple of friends who are supposed to be staying with you. I was hoping you could check to see if either of them is registered there?”
“Certainly.” A man with a thick southern accent answered from a hotel in McAllen Texas. “What’re the names?”
“Maria Lovelle, or Carlota Ridge.” Lovelle gave both of Maria’s aliases. After a pause the man informed him that there was no one registered under either name. “Maybe I have the date mixed up. Can you take a message for me and hold it in case they check in?”
Lovelle left the number of a voicemail box that he maintained as another layer of insulation between his work and his real life. He did this at more than a dozen hotels before he gave up. After the first couple he knew it was an exercise in futility, but, he didn’t know what else to do. He checked once more with the front desk of his own place then checked out and hit the road.
Laughlin was only an hour and a half away, and he arrived at his apartment complex shortly after dusk. Always cautious, Lovelle did not intend to simply park outside their door and stroll in. He drove past first and spotted a police cruiser and the crime scene tape. Maintaining his cool, he parked in an open spot a few doors down and approached the cruiser as if he were a curious neighbor. The officer was eating his dinner and did not see Lovelle approach. Lovelle’s hand trembled slightly as he tapped on the window to get the attention of the officer. The cop was startled a little and nearly dropped his hot dog. He lowered the window and glared at Lovelle as if to say, Thi
s better be important. It was, but, it wouldn’t seem that way to the inconvenienced cop.
“What happened? Is everybody okay?”
“No,” the cop answered, displaying his agitation, “Not really. Someone was murdered last night.” The officer stopped to consider Lovelle then asked, “Do you live here?”
“Yeah,” Lovelle answered, waving his house key exaggeratedly to cover the growing tremor. “Just got back in town from Havasu.”
“Do you know any of the tenants of this building?” The officer motioned toward Lovelle’s building.
Lovelle didn’t like how this conversation was going. He thought the next question was liable to be, do you have some ID? If it was, Lovelle would have to knock him out and take off. Living there under the name of Ridge, he might have used his Curtis Lovelle ID, but, he never took it when he was on a mission. In fact, he virtually never kept two sets of identification on him at the same time. A simple car accident could be the end of his career if he were found unconscious with two names in his pocket. His Lovelle wallet was currently tucked in a Las Vegas safe deposit box that he could not access until the bank opened in the morning. And although his Ridge ID still carried a fake address, there were plenty of things in the apartment with that name on them. The police would certainly be looking for him by now. Still, Lovelle needed to be sure, so he continued. “No, I only moved in recently. I’ve seen a few people coming and going.” He stopped like he was thinking, “I said good morning to a woman a couple of times. Really beautiful. I hope it wasn’t her.”
“Well, I don’t know how beautiful she was. I didn’t work the crime scene. It was a young woman though.” That settled it. Maria was the only young woman among the four units that shared that particular entrance. The cop seemed to have gotten over his agitation at the interruption. Now he was displaying the tendency some people have to want to impress others with their inside knowledge. “Shot twice with a high powered rifle. Once in the heart and once right between the eyes.” That wasn’t exactly accurate, but, close enough to the truth not to make a difference.
Time Skip (Book 2): The Time Skippers Page 14
