The Overnighter's Secrets

by J. L. Salter

Shane did not reply.

  “Nothing in the note hints at where she was taken.” Jeff’s forehead wrinkled. “So Beth probably didn’t know herself.”

  “Wouldn’t make sense for the kidnapper to tell her.” Shane slumped onto the chair again.

  Jeff circled the kitchen table a few times. “So what else do we have to go on?” He stopped pacing and closed his eyes. “The suitcase and everything in it is gone... right?”

  “I guess so. I haven’t seen much of it since I’ve been here. Just a few pages of your notes that Bethany showed me.” Shane perked up. “How many pieces did you have?”

  “All I took away was the Jones story and the diary. Brought them both back on Saturday... at lunch.”

  “So they were separate from the other stuff.” Shane frowned. “Then maybe one or both could still be here someplace.”

  “We’ve already been all over this little house.”

  “But we were looking for the suitcase. This time, we’ll look for pieces.”

  Jeff squeezed his eyelids. “If she was studying either one of them, maybe she was reading in bed.”

  Both searched the bedroom. Nothing.

  “Where else would she study something?” Shane’s eyes scanned the small interior.

  “Maybe the rocker... or that end of the couch near the lamp.” Jeff pointed. “That bookcase is pretty close to both spaces.”

  Shane was closest and his heavy hand slapped the volume on top. “The diary! She showed me something in this... the leap year entry.” He was already flipping through it. Then he handed it over. “Don’t have my glasses.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe nothing. But they most likely still want that book, so keep it with you and keep it safe.”

  “I think we’re stymied.” Jeff sat heavily on the rocker. “What’s our next move?”

  “Call your friend again... the computer wonk. See if he has the location yet.”

  Jeff phoned. No answer, so he left a message. While he was doing so, his phone signaled a text coming in.

  Shane heard the noise and moved closer.

  It was the GPS fix. Jeff showed the screen to Shane, who couldn’t get it into focus.

  “It says, 400 Adams Street in Downtown Verdeville.”

  “Write it down.” Shane pointed vaguely toward the kitchen counter.

  “Don’t need to. I know it.”

  “What’s on Adams Street?”

  “Same building that also fronts Washington Street... the abandoned Mount Vernon Hotel.” Jeff pointed generally northeast, though it looked like he was guessing.

  “Could you hide somebody in there?”

  “Heck yeah. That place had probably a hundred rooms, plus all the large spaces for meetings and dining... and dancing. It was quite a hotel in its day, I’m told.”

  Shane coughed. “In this little burg?”

  “Well, I could fill you in with history of the railroad and the timber business in Greene County when its port on the Cumberland River was still a bustling place... but right now I’m guessing we’d both rather find Beth.”

  “You know, you can be pretty cocky for a little guy.”

  “Don’t mess with librarians.” As he spoke, Jeff kept his distance.

  Shane didn’t reply, but his brain was clicking. “Tell me about this hotel.”

  “It’s an entire city block, between Fourth and Fifth streets, surrounded by an iron fence with gates on all four sides. The actual back of the building is on Washington Street, though it was also used as an entrance. The primary entrance was on Adams which becomes a state highway going south and the Quarry Pike heading north.” Jeff took a moment to visualize. “Empty parking lots front and back and small green spaces on each side... though they’re all grown up to miniature jungles these days.”

  “Gates are locked?”

  Jeff nodded. “Had to because of vandals.”

  Shane’s brain calculated assault approaches. “How many stories?”

  “Oh, five or six. Not sure. The top floor had suites.”

  Finally, it was time to move. “I’m gonna need your car, Jeff.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. I know what happens to cars when guys like you borrow them.”

  “Another stereotype.” In a different situation, Shane might have grinned. “You watch too many movies.”

  “Maybe so. But, besides that, it’s Tanya’s car and she’d murder me.”

  Shane gripped the back of a kitchen chair so hard that it looked like the wood might splinter. “Give me the keys and tell me how to get there.”

  Jeff shook his head defiantly. “Not gonna happen. Besides, it’d be easier and quicker to just take you.”

  Shane released the chair’s back and cursed loudly. “Okay, you drop me off... but I go in alone. I need you at the police station.” He scanned the kitchen for possible weapons. “How far between cops and the hotel?”

  “Maybe two miles. They built a new station on the opposite edge of old downtown.”

  “Okay. I need you to wake up those local cops and shove them out the door.” From his own experience in the police station earlier today, Shane didn’t have much confidence in their initiative.

  “Shane, are you pretty confident this abandoned hotel is actually the right location?”

  “The GPS fix says her phone’s there. Can’t think of a better place to start looking. Any second thoughts?”

  “No. I’m just... kind of... overwhelmed.” Jeff gulped. “It seems a lot different on TV.”

  “Real life is always different.” Shane patted his own belt reflexively. “You don’t have a gun by any chance, do you?”

  “Sorry. Tanya doesn’t like guns and I try to keep her happy.”

  “I hear you.” Shane looked toward the door to the garage.

  “I thought bikers always had thirty pounds of weapons.”

  Shane gave him a look. “I’ve heard plenty of black stereotypes, but I don’t believe them.”

  “Point taken. But don’t you have fighting stuff on your motorcycle?”

  In truth, Shane had a six-foot length of logging chain to protect each of his Harleys from theft. Chains also made very effective weapons. If his revolver and knife hadn’t been impounded with the Road King, he’d have sufficient arms. But he didn’t answer Jeff directly. If Shane had a couple of hours to spare, he’d go to the Mill Street Bar and ask Cratchit where to find a serviceable handgun for cash... quickly. Pawn shops and any retail sporting goods stores would require a five-day waiting period or get bogged down with the supposed instant background check. Besides, the power was out in several areas. In certain parts of Long Beach, he could obtain a gun in about fifteen minutes. But we’re not in California anymore, Toto.

  Shane checked his watch: 8:50—time to get moving. When you don’t have what you need... improvise. He surveyed the pitifully few tools in Beth’s garage. He couldn’t find any bolt cutters, so he grabbed a partly rusted hacksaw and the longest pry bar he could find. A good crowbar would have at least two different uses. “What woman has a garage with no knives in it?” Shane realized the answer was most. But he found a plastic handled wood chisel. That would have to do.

  “What about the knives in the kitchen?” Jeff, standing close by, had been watching silently. “I saw some in a holder on the counter.”

  “Kitchen blades are too thin... snap in your hands. Good for chicken meat but not for fighting.” Shane held up the chisel. “Need something sturdy.”

  None of the flashlights he’d found had working batteries. What is it with women and batteries? Nothing else of potential usefulness in the garage. Shane went back inside to the bathroom. Best not to start this evening with a full bladder.

  When he re-entered the living room, Jeff held out Shane’s phone. “You got a message.”

  Shane grabbed it. “It’s a text.” Jeff huddled closer so he could see, but Shane squinted and read it out loud:

  Shane, car brk dwn. meet me @ Mt Vern Hotl


  “So she’s okay!” Jeff smiled slightly.

  Shane re-scrolled the short message. “That wasn’t Bethany.”

  “That’s her number.” Jeff grabbed Shane’s device. “It came from her phone.”

  “Yeah... but not her message. She wouldn’t have said car... she would’ve said Shadow. Whoever has Bethany is using her phone.”

  Jeff groaned. “Why couldn’t it be straightforward? The kidnapper got scared and left. Her car won’t run and she’s waiting out the storm in the abandoned hotel.”

  Shane just stared.

  “First she leaves a note telling you she’s out of town. Then she sends a text telling you she’s broke down and asks you to come help. What if, five minutes from now, this bad guy sends you a third message? With a completely different picture of where Beth is.” Jeff pressed a refresh button and stared at the text. “I’m just saying you can’t go off half-cocked at each prompt.”

  “They hold all the cards... and know it. Whoever was handling things here, whenever Bethany was taken…wanted us, but especially me, to think out of town and never find her. But whoever’s in charge now obviously wants me there.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why would somebody kidnap Beth and then use her phone to bring reinforcements?”

  “Like I said, they want me at the hotel too.”

  “So you’re walking into a trap?” More sputter from the anxious librarian.

  Shane nodded.

  “The criminal invites you over... and you’re still going?”

  “Have to. They’ve got Bethany.”

  Jeff’s voice lowered and he spoke slowly. “What if she’s already... ?”

  Shane interrupted with a firm grip on Jeff’s shoulder. “She’s still alive. I’m positive.”

  Jeff mumbled an apology and then shifted gears. “Maybe they think you have what they want... whatever they were trying to get from Beth.”

  Shane nodded. “Whatever they’re after is big and they must want me there so they can silence anybody who’s seen it.”

  “But everything from that overnighter is already gone... except the diary we just found.”

  “The diary...” A grim smile creased Shane’s face. “That’s what they realized they’re missing.”

  “But we still don’t know why... or who wants it. Besides, we still don’t know what it is about old Miss Lynette that has these criminals so fixated.”

  “And we won’t find out sitting here.” Shane pointed toward the front door. “Let’s roll.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  About 9:00 p.m.

  Shane took only a moment to suit up again for the storm. Since Jeff’s flimsy disposable poncho was already ripped in places, it took him a bit longer. Both got drenched dashing for the car. The interior of Tanya’s Beetle was also soaked.

  Shane placed his three larger objects on the floorboard between his boots.

  When Jeff turned north through the flooded intersection with Dock Road, water sprayed up around them like they were skiing.

  It was Shane’s first time inside one of the new Beetles. “Nice ride.” He hadn’t intended sarcasm, but somehow it sounded that way.

  “Tanya had it before we got married.” Jeff shrugged. “Not my color, but it drives okay.”

  “A ride’s a ride. It’s all good.”

  Shortly, Jeff turned east on Highland Drive, headed for one of three significant highways going into downtown.

  It would have been pitch dark even without the heavy downpour. Several neighborhoods obviously still had power, but a few other blocks did not. It was especially gloomy after Jeff turned north on Highway 266 and they neared the old downtown section. Who laid out the power grid in Verde-town?

  Jeff stopped for a flashing traffic light at the intersection with Canal Drive. Judging from the street lamps and building security lights, the old commercial area to their east was one of the few sections surrounding old downtown which still had power. He must have noticed the frown on Shane’s face. “New problem?”

  “Just wondering why Ricks is even involved in this. It’s way out of his league.”

  The vehicles in front slowly cleared the intersection and Jeff finally accelerated. “Surely, it’s because he could I.D. both you and Beth and also knew about the suitcase.”

  “But why bring Ricks all the way from the coast?” Shane rubbed his forehead. “Why not just hire a local thug?”

  “Not sure how to broach this, but here goes. Was there ever anything between Beth and Ricks?” Jeff cleared his throat hurriedly. “I mean besides when she conked him on the head with that brick.”

  Shane was floored. He’d never heard this story. “Whoa. Back up. What brick? When?”

  “Don’t know when it happened, but Beth told Connie and me about it. Basically, Ricks made a move on her when you were gone somewhere and she busted his head with a brick from her bookcase. Still has the brick.”

  Shane’s frown turned slowly into a grim smile. “That girl’s got fire.”

  “Beth said that she’d never told you.”

  “She knew I’d probably kill him.” Shane stared out to the pouring darkness. “So, why’d you tell me now?”

  “Before you go charging in there, I figure you should know that Ricks may have his own agenda with Beth... besides whatever he’s been hired for.” Jeff gulped. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I need to know.”

  Except for sloshing windshield wipers and the clumpedy-clump over railroad tracks, silence accompanied the next mile. North of the tracks, the road signs indicated Adams Street instead of South Highway 266.

  “So this dumpster diver... what’s he actually like?”

  “Ricks is a skinny, short, scraggly meth head. He can half-way follow simple instructions when he’s half-way sober... if he keeps repeating them to himself. But he’s scared of me and that’s good for both of us.”

  “But you’re not scared of Ricks.” There was no interrogatory in Jeff’s statement.

  “Only about what he might do to Bethany... so in that sense, I’m terrified.”

  In the darkness, Jeff appeared to shiver.

  “Ricks is mostly a known enemy.” Shane broke the silence. “Wish I knew something about the other one.”

  “You figure just one more involved?”

  Shane nodded. “Probably. It doesn’t feel like the kind of operation with a lot of personnel.”

  The vehicle stopped for a flashing red light at the intersection with Main Street, on the eastern edge of old downtown. That area’s power was also out. “Hotel’s up ahead... four blocks.” Jeff pointed north into the darkness. “This other guy... what are you guessing?”

  “Definitely a professional, but he chooses to work with amateurs. He hired both Ricks and the idiot that broke into Bethany’s. But the pro had to fly out to Long Beach to find Ricks.”

  “That’s one of many parts that still puzzle me. This pro... how did he make a connection to California? And how on earth did he find Ricks?”

  “I figure he’s been working on the same puzzle we’ve been... only from different angles. You and Bethany and Connie began with what was inside the overnighter. Plus all the extra things you brought in, like the newspaper article.”

  “Yeah, our team has pulled together a pretty comprehensive collection of data.” Jeff seemed justifiably proud.

  “But this pro worked it from some other direction... not knowing what our team had discovered and never having even seen the suitcase.”

  “True. But he certainly found out about it... somehow.”

  “Likely from Ricks.” When Shane shifted in his soggy seat, the crowbar clanged on the floorboard. “Remember, Ricks was one of the divers who recovered it.”

  “Ricks and his new boss have been willing to do just about anything to get that overnighter back.”

  “And the only way we can figure out why is to know who this pro is working for.” Shane looked toward the dark-skinned driver in the darkness. Not much was visibl
e from the dashboard’s dim light. “Whoever hired the pro is terrified of something in that suitcase... and this pro doesn’t mind leaving a lot of collateral damage to get hold of it.”

  “Are you scared of him?”

  “I have a healthy apprehension of his likely capabilities...”

  “Bikers aren’t supposed to talk like that.”

  “Oh?” Shane couldn’t restrain a tiny grin, in spite of himself. “How are blacks supposed to talk?”

  “Touché... again.”

  “Stereotypes.” Shane stared through the windshield as the wipers slammed back and forth. “How much farther?”

  “Right there.” Jeff pointed at the corner of Madison and Fourth. It had taken about twenty minutes to get there from Beth’s place. “Would’ve taken half as long without the storm. You prefer front or back?”

  “They might expect me to come in the front.”

  “So, we’ll go to the back.” Jeff turned right on Fourth and then took the next left on Washington.

  Shane stopped him after they cleared that intersection. “See anything?”

  “Just the dark, the rain, and the wind.” Also occasional thunder and lightning.

  “See any cars?”

  In the headlights, one other vehicle was visible—a white coupe in the far corner of the east side of that square block. Practically all the way to Fifth Street.

  “That’s gotta be Bethany’s Shadow. So Ricks probably already dumped his stolen wheels... most likely in Bethany’s neighborhood.”

  “Wonder where the pro stashed his ride?”

  Shane squinted into the dark, pouring rain. “What’s on these nearby streets? Any places to hide a car or truck?”

  “In this part of town, you could hide just about anything in plain sight.” There were scattered vehicles in parking lots across all four boundary streets. They could be seen clearly, albeit quite briefly, when the periodic lightning flashed.

  “So, any of those trucks or cars out there could be the pro’s.”

  Jeff nodded in the darkness.

  Both were silent as each surveyed the darkened square block with the huge abandoned facility in the middle. Just as Jeff had said, the entire perimeter was fenced and locked.

  Shane could barely discern the building’s outline in the darkness. “Give me a thirty second breakdown of the interior layout.”