Broken Boys

by L. J. Sellers

  “Oh shit.” Marty was staring at the dashboard.

  “We’re out of gas?”

  “Almost.”

  Damn. She didn’t want to drive into Sun Ridge for anything. The police might be looking for them. If they got stopped, the chief might take Josh back to the Ridgeline camp. Or Goodwin may have called and blamed them for the accident, and they could end up in jail. She didn’t want to say any of it out loud. The kid was freaked out enough. “We have to stick to the side roads.”

  “Except for the buying gas part.” Her stepdad had a rare moment of negativity, then turned toward the town.

  They drove in silence for a while, tension heavy in the air. As they got closer, an occasional home appeared, typically set back from the road and nestled into the pines. They rounded a rock outcropping and she spotted a big ranch-style house with several outbuildings. Two trucks, a boat, and three recreational quads sat in front of the metal garage.

  “There!” Rox shouted. “Pull down that driveway. Those people will have gas.”

  “I don’t know.” Marty eased off the pedal anyway. “Rural people don’t like to be bothered.”

  “This is an emergency. And most people like to be helpful.”

  They made the turn and bumped down the gravel driveway. An older man bolted out of the house to meet them. Rox climbed from the truck. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, but we got lost up on the mountain and used all our gas. Can we buy some from you?”

  “You’re not from around here?”

  “No. We’re just doing some hiking and enjoying the beauty.” She gave him her most charming smile. “Have you got twenty bucks worth of fuel?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll see.” He headed into the metal building and came out with a five-gallon red-plastic canister. “This is mostly full.”

  “Perfect.” Rox went back to the truck for the cash. Marty and Josh hadn’t moved, and that was just as well.

  A scruffy dog ran out of the house and started barking. Rox waited while the man shushed it and made it sit. She handed him the twenty, and he poured gas into their tank.

  Feeling chatty with relief, Rox said, “This is a nice place you have. I’m sure it’s pretty quiet.”

  “It used to be until they started running those damn teen camps up there. Now we have trucks and vans driving by every day, sometimes in the middle of the damn night.” He spat a wad of brown chew on the ground. “Two of ’em went by last night around three in the morning and woke me up.”

  She and Marty had been in the second vehicle. In the darkness, they hadn’t even seen the house. She wasn’t about to admit it. “That’s too bad. Maybe you can plant some trees out front for a sound barrier.”

  The old guy laughed. “I don’t have the energy.”

  Rox thanked him and climbed back in the truck. “Let’s roll.”

  At the end of the driveway, Rox remembered to try the state police again—while they were still close to Sun Ridge. As she was about to press the button, she stopped. “Marty, who do I say I am? I’m currently working under my PI name, and I’d like to keep it anonymous.”

  He stopped the truck. “I’ll make the call.”

  “Are you sure? We don’t even have Goodwin’s license plate number.”

  “But you saw his face.” Marty made a noise in his throat. “I mean I saw his face. We have to report the incident to cover ourselves. We have no idea what that psycho will do next.”

  Josh cut in. “He’s probably going to his house to get Brooke. He might kill her to keep her quiet. Or he might take her and run. He has other properties.”

  Rox stared at the kid. “Do you know where?”

  “He mentioned Florida once.” Josh locked eyes with her. “And he has a private plane.”

  Oh hell. Goodwin could be on his way to the airstrip now.

  Marty made a call to the Bend department. Halfway through his explanation of the vehicular attack, he stopped and said, “Are you still there?”

  No response.

  “Damn. I lost the connection.”

  “Let’s go,” Rox shouted. “We have to reach the girl before Goodwin does.” But she feared they were already too late.

  Chapter 40

  Marty drove as fast as he could on the high-mountain road. His tired eyes blinked with fatigue and his butt ached from sitting in the truck for twenty hours. But at least the route wasn’t an uphill, switchback climb like they’d been doing. The terrain featured rolling hills, rock plateaus, and patches of flat sagebrush desert. Beyond the plateau, dark-green forested mountains pushed up against a bright blue sky. At another time, it would have been beautiful. Today, his surroundings made him edgy. Kids were out there, hiking around in circles, hungry and abused. And a psychopath was trying to silence anyone who could put him in jail—maybe even including a teenage girl. The damn wilderness stretched out for miles. Would it keep him from getting to Goodwin’s place in time to save her?

  Rox kept asking Josh questions about his time in the program, and the more Marty heard, the more distressed he felt. Now the boy was talking about a near-death experience.

  “I almost drowned crossing a stream. I had to do it on my own, with no help at all.” His voice was flat, like a numb survivor. “When the water was up to my waist, I stumbled and got carried downstream, then had to climb out on my own. It was early in the morning, and I froze for hours with wet clothes.”

  That sounded dangerous. Were all the wilderness camps like that?

  Josh continued. “One day we hiked from daylight to sundown with only a break for lunch. Guess what they gave us to eat? A bag of peanuts and some dried apple slices.” Josh held his stomach again. “Just thinking about it makes me hungry. I thought we were going to stop at a store.”

  “We don’t have time!” Marty shouted, his own hunger making him irritable.

  “I know. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m hungry too. And thirsty. And I have to pee. But we’re not stopping.” Marty let out a heavy sigh. “How far is this place?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been there this way. After going through Bend, we drove down the highway, then turned on Rattlesnake.”

  Rox cut in. “Going that direction, how far is the house from the highway?”

  Josh groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe ten miles.”

  A moment later, Rox announced, “This road is thirty-eight miles long, and we’ve already covered eight miles, leaving thirty. If the house is ten from the other side, we’re twenty miles away. Check the odometer. We don’t want to miss it.”

  “Don’t worry,” Josh said. “You can see the lake from the road. I’ll find the driveway.”

  Marty tried to relax, but his chest had tightened after Goodwin ran them off the road, and he couldn’t get his muscles to unclench. He hoped it was just a spasm, not actual heart pain.

  The twenty miles seemed to take forever, especially after Josh quit talking and laid his head back to rest. Marty had things he wanted to discuss with Rox, but he didn’t want to say them in front of the boy and didn’t trust that he was sleeping. His best guess was that Goodwin had killed Josh’s mother too. Maybe accidentally, but he’d probably beaten her in an attempt to find out where Josh was. Then Goodwin had targeted Rox to get specific details about the camp’s location. What made him think he’d get away with assaulting Carrie Lovejoy? Did he have blackmail material on her, or had he planned to silence her all along?

  “We should be close,” Rox said.

  A minute later, they passed a plateau of black volcanic rock. When they came out of the long curve, a small lake came into view in the distance. Marty nudged the boy, and Josh sat up. “That’s it. The driveway is after that clump of oak trees, and the cabin is back behind that hill.”

  Marty eased off the gas, and his pulse quickened. If Goodwin was at the house, this could get ugly. He wanted to pull out his weapon, but it was too soon. There was no point in scaring Josh yet. They needed backup. Had the Bend department responded to his last cal
l, even though it had been cut off? Probably not. He’d tried the state police too with no success. He grabbed his phone off the dashboard and hit redial. The connection went through. “MacFarlane again. I called about a hit-and-run thirty minutes ago. Is anyone on the way?”

  “I’m sorry. That call got dropped and I didn’t hear the location.”

  “Rattlesnake Road, about twelve miles from Highway 97. The dark-gray sedan is driven by Scott Goodwin. He not only tried to kill us, he may have murdered two other people. He might also be traveling with a teenage girl he abducted.”

  The line was silent.

  “Did you hear me?” No response. “Shit! I lost the call again.”

  “They’ll send someone out,” Rox tried to reassure him. “But we can’t wait for them.”

  Marty eased down the packed-gravel driveway, experience telling him to move slowly and not spook the suspect. Instinct made him worry that Goodwin was perched behind the bluff with a rifle and would put a bullet between his eyes when the truck came into his view. The perp had no military background, but still, in this part of the state everyone owned a gun.

  They rounded the low hill and entered a wide parking area. The gray sedan sat in front of a log-cabin style home with an adjoining carport filled with ATVs, canoes, and other sporting equipment. The sedan looked unoccupied. Was Goodwin in the house? Dealing with the girl? Or sitting next to a window with a shotgun?

  Marty put the shifter into neutral, then glanced around, looking for the most protective place to stop and exit. A row of solar panels on a ten-foot frame stood off to the right. What was that shadow on top?

  “Park next to the carport,” Rox said. “It’ll give us cover.”

  A thunderous crack cut through the air, and a rifle slug slammed into the side of the truck.

  “Get down!” Marty screamed, reaching under the seat for his Glock.

  Rox grabbed the boy and shoved him to the floor.

  Another deafening shot rang out. This time the bullet shattered the glass on the back side of the cab. Marty glanced over at Rox and the kid. No blood and no damage that he could see. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” His daughter sounded strong as always.

  Marty slipped out, keeping low and using the open door as a shield. The shots were coming from the solar panels, so Goodwin had to be perched on top, maybe lying down.

  Time to make a move. Marty straightened his legs, stuck his gun through the window, and fired off two quick shots at the solar structure. He ducked back down, his breath ragged. He didn’t expect to take Goodwin out, but he hoped the return fire would make the perp stop shooting and run instead.

  For thirty long seconds, the scene was eerily silent, except for the squawk of a blackbird in a nearby tree. As Marty peeked out from behind the truck door, an engine started. Goodwin was in his car and rolling forward. The perp fired another shot as he drove past, hitting the side of the truck again.

  Thank god most citizens were terrible shots.

  Rox sat upright and cursed. “The fucker!’

  Marty shouted, “Go inside for the girl. I’ll go after Goodwin.” He started to get back into the truck.

  “No!” Rox yelled back. “You take Josh into the house, and I’ll give chase.”

  She pushed the boy toward the driver’s side and Josh climbed out, blocking Marty from taking the wheel. Damn her! She was protecting him by giving him the easy job. But they didn’t have time to argue.

  Marty grabbed Josh’s arm and ran toward the log cabin. Behind him, Rox gunned the engine and threw gravel as she raced after Goodwin.

  Chapter 41

  Scott shoved the rifle onto the seat next to him. He wanted to toss it into the lake but couldn’t do it without stopping and getting out. That was okay. He might need it again. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Shit! The investigator was still coming after him. He regretted hiring her. If he hadn’t been in such a panic, he probably could have found Josh without her help. Or not. He’d certainly tried. But when Curtis pushed him out of the family business—after the bullshit sexual-assault accusations in Utah—his brother had also banned the staff from talking to him about anything related to Ridgeline. So he’d failed to learn the base camp’s new Oregon location.

  Scott let out a strange laugh, feeling triumphant and bitter at the same time. He’d had no reason to even think about the damn correctional programs since he’d invested in the blossoming legal marijuana business. Following Curtis in his move to Oregon had been the smartest thing he’d ever done. Financially anyway. But he’d been consuming too many pot edibles and not thinking clearly. No, he realized, those weren’t the problem. The ecstasy and the synthetic cannabis—which the kids called spice—had altered his needs and his thinking. But how else could he relate to teenagers? They wouldn’t hang around him unless he had money and drugs. The fellowship message he preached was only a smokescreen, a reason to get together.

  Girls seemed to like his face though. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. Oh man, he was losing his looks and he’d known it for a while. Soft lines had formed around his eyes, his skin was thickening, and his nose was actually bigger. Was it the drinking? His cock still worked fine—as long as he didn’t get too high. Brooke never complained though. She was just glad for a place to live, and sex was a fair trade. She was old enough to consent, yet young enough to still have a tight pussy and a firm body. He’d lucked into finding the girl when she’d come to a Fellowship Youth meeting and told him about her situation. The poor thing had flunked out of the Get Straight program and couldn’t go home to her uptight parents who hated her bi-sexuality. He’d taken her off the streets and she’d been grateful. But he’d gotten bored with her more quickly than he’d expected.

  Scott jerked his head back to the bumpy driveway and braked. The highway stretched out before him. Time to decide. Without consciously choosing, he turned left. The airfield was close by, and once he was on the highway, he could easily outrun that old truck. He glanced over his left shoulder. The bitch was still coming but she was alone now. That meant Josh and the old guy, whoever he was, had gone into the house. It was over. His sweet life of young pussy whenever he wanted it had come to an end. This chapter of it anyway.

  Once he was in the plane, he would fly to his secret villa in Costa Rica. He’d bought it a few months ago, anticipating this move. Although he hadn’t expected to be running from the law. Fucking Tommy! He’d betrayed his confidence and told Donna, his worthless drunk mother, about the weekend with Brooke. What an ingrate! After Scott had shared his home, his girl, and his drugs, the whiny little punk had felt guilty and gone to his mommy. Donna would never tell anyone else, but Scott feared that Tommy might. He no longer trusted him.

  Killing the boy had been harder than he’d expected. Tommy had gotten suspicious once they were out hiking in the park and had edged away from him at the last minute. Teenage boys were fast and strong, and the struggle had unnerved him. Yet the relief of knowing the snitch could never talk about the girl—and the drugs—again had been so great, he’d been compelled to plot Josh’s silence as well. Why take chances now that his life was good again? But the timing had gone south on him, and Carrie had sent Josh to the fucking wilderness! Scott slammed the steering wheel. He’d had no idea how long Josh would be gone or where to find the camp. And he’d worried about the boy telling a counselor about that weekend.

  Another car flew past going the opposite direction, and Scott focused on his driving. Twenty minutes and he’d be in the air and on his way to freedom.

  Chapter 42

  At the end of the long lakeside driveway, the sedan turned left, surprising Rox. She’d expected Goodwin to head for the main highway. What he planned next was hard to imagine, but the highway was the fastest way out. Instead, he was traveling back into the wilderness area.

  On the road, Rox pushed the truck as hard as it would go, but it was old and worn, and Goodwin’s Lexus gained distance. Still, with the Bend police and state troopers on the
lookout for his vehicle —she hoped—the bastard probably wouldn’t get away.

  From here, Rattlesnake Road looped back around the way they’d come from the base camp. What was Goodwin up to? Did he plan to lure her out into the forest and ambush her? Would he take another shot with his rifle or try to run the truck off the road again? The man had clearly lost his mind.

  She checked the gas gauge, relieved she still had half a tank. The day was hot already, so her window was open, and the air at seventy miles an hour blasted her face. Her lips were dry and cracked from dehydration, and her stomach growled with hunger. But her adrenaline pumped so strongly that none of it mattered. She just had to keep Goodwin in sight until law enforcement caught up to them and took over.

  Within a few minutes the gray sedan pulled away in the distance and she could no longer see it. Damn! She wanted to call law enforcement again. And check in with Marty to see how he was doing. But at this speed, all she could do was hang on to the wheel. After passing the volcanic-rock area, she spotted a sign ahead. Was there a turnoff? She hadn’t notice before. She eased off the gas, then braked as she approached it.

  Rancher’s Airfield? Oh shit.

  Josh had mentioned that Goodwin was a pilot who sometimes flew him and Tommy to his weekend house. Was the bastard planning to jump in a plane and make his escape by air? He might be deluded enough to think he could hide out at one of his properties. If he owned a home across the border in Canada, he might have a chance. Rox slowed, prepping for the exit.

  What if she was wrong and Goodwin was still driving toward the Idaho border? The state police would catch him. She had to believe that and trust her instinct on this. Rox braked hard but still took the turn too fast. She pulled the steering wheel back around and corrected before she ran into the ditch. Their clunky truck wasn’t designed for high speed or sudden maneuvers, but when they’d left home in Portland, she hadn’t expected to be in chase mode!

  The airfield quickly appeared in the distance. A metal hangar, a small clapboard building, and a single runway. There had to be planes inside the hangar, and Goodwin might own one of them. Especially since he seemed to commute between his homes on weekends. Where was the gray sedan? Had she been wrong?