Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series)

by Martin Cogburn

  Finally, growing tired of the masquerade, Jason said, “Look, I know you are all disappointed in me, but you don’t have to…”

  “Oh no, Jason,” Susan’s mother cut him off abruptly, “we’re not disappointed in you at all.” She straightened Susan’s necklace. “You see, for someone to be disappointed, they must first have some expectations.” Only then did she turn and look at him. “And we never expected much out of you in the first place.” It was at that moment, Jason remembered… he preferred the silent treatment.

  “Look,” he spoke, “I’ve got better things to do than stand around here and be insulted. Susan’s car is at my house.” He fixed his attention on his sister-in-law. “Are you ready to go get it?” he demanded.

  Before she had a chance to reply, her father turned, squaring up to Jason. Speaking quietly, but leaving no question as to who was in charge, he said, “She’s with us now. We’ll take care of her.” It was more the way he said it than the fact he said it at all that bothered Jason. His father-in-law made it sound like Jason was incapable of taking care of a dog, much less one of his daughters.

  Chapter Ten

  Jason opened the door of his pickup and climbed in, sitting for a moment, relieved to finally be free from the harsh judgment of his in-laws. As he reached over to slide the key into the ignition, something caught his attention. A small envelope was sticking out of the thin gap between the dash and radio. Jason gave a little huff and shook his head. It had to be from Susan; both she and Misty had the habit of writing a note when they couldn’t figure out how to say what they needed to say in person. She must have slipped out to his truck and placed the note while he was being interrogated by the sheriff.

  Jason anxiously plucked the envelope from its spot. A short time earlier, Susan had taken verbal assault to a whole new level and seemed to have left nothing unsaid, so he was very curious to see what the letter read. Jason turned the envelope over several times in his hand. There was no writing on the outside of it. All the more intrigued, he broke the seal and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it revealed a typed note. Strange. Any letter or note that Susan had ever sent to Misty had always been hand-written. The sisters said it was more personal that way. Oh well… maybe she was beginning to embrace the computer age.

  Jason began reading.

  Dear Jason,

  I have been thinking a lot about you since last night. I see the despair in your eyes and know how much your wife means to you. She is safe – I know that because I have her. If you want her back, you must first prove you are worthy. You must climb into the sunlight at the top of the Tombstone, a rock bluff that runs up the north face of the Royal Gorge, close to the expansion bridge. Go up the original route. No practice runs. This must occur on your birthday before the sun sets.

  P.S. No ropes. For her to be set free, you must climb free. If you survive and succeed, she will go free. If you fail and fall to your death, she will go free. The only way she will not be set free is if you refuse to try.

  Jason’s heart hammered against his ribcage as he sat spellbound in his truck. This letter was from Misty’s kidnappers. Climb on his birthday? That was almost a month away. From the bottom of the Royal Gorge to the top was – well, Jason had no idea – but certainly a long way. Without a rope? And he was terrified of heights. He loved Misty but, wow, that sounded more like suicide than a rescue mission.

  Jason’s in-laws were pulling out onto Main Street when his mind came back to the cab of his truck. For a moment, he thought about flagging them down but never made a move to do so. After the way they treated him, he was in no mood to share any kind of information with any of them. Instead, he pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the note, placed it back into the envelope, put his keys in his pocket, locked both doors and made sure the windows were rolled up before heading back into the police station to give them the letter. Now, at least, he had something with which to convince Sheriff Victor of his innocence.

  The sheriff was at his desk as Jason approached with a triumphant look in his eyes. “See what you make of that,” Jason said in a tone that called into question the sheriff’s competence as a lawman.

  Victor looked up at Jason over a pair of horn-rimmed glasses as he picked up the envelope that had been placed before him and removed the note. After a few moments of reading it, he began to frown.

  “See, I told you I was innocent,” Jason said, sounding more like a little kid’s I told you so than a grown man trying to find his wife.

  The sheriff remained silent for a few moments more then began to speak slowly. “This letter does several things… but there’s one thing that it most certainly doesn’t do.” He looked up at Jason. “It doesn’t prove anyone’s innocence. This letter was typed not written. No signature – No nothin’. Anyone could have written it… including you,” he concluded, his gaze hardening.

  “Why would I write a letter telling myself to go do something that would most likely get me killed?” Jason asked in a condescending voice.

  “I have no idea,” replied Sheriff Victor, unaffected by Jason’s tone. “Why would you roll around in a dark alley at night and tear your clothes up?” He leaned back in his chair, not seeming to be the least bit concerned as he added, “We’ll keep the note to see if we might can get some DNA off of it or somethin’.” He paused for a moment. “You should’a told me what it was before I touched it. Now that we’ve both had our hands on it, the chances of getting a lead off of it are pretty slim.” He paused and sighed. “We’ll try though.”

  Jason shoved down the irritation that threatened to bring some wise-crack out of his mouth and do further damage to the slim chance that he had of getting any kind of cooperation from the sheriff. As bad as he hated it, Jason knew that he needed a line of open communication with the law or he would lose touch with the case all-together. Susan and her parents were leaving him out of the loop, and he didn’t know who he would turn to for information or help if he completely burned down the bridge between himself and the sheriff.

  “Sorry about that,” Jason said, trying to sound like he was truly apologizing. “Anything on the guys I described for Jenny?”

  “Yes,” the sheriff replied. “We’ve identified your attacker.”

  Jason’s heart felt like it was trying to leap out of his ribcage. Maybe now they were finally getting somewhere! “And?” he asked excitedly, wondering what had been discovered.

  “And I’m afraid that information is classified,” Victor replied flatly.

  “Are you serious?” Jason asked, like that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. His posing as a humble friend days were over. “The law forbids you to give information on a kidnapped wife to her husband?”

  “Giving you information would be too much of a liability in this case,” the sheriff said calmly. “There’s always the concern that you’d go vigilante on us and try to catch the guy yourself… if you’re telling the truth, that is,” he added as an afterthought.

  “So you think that I’m telling the truth?” Jason asked, and a twinge of hope made him stand a bit more erect.

  “No,” Sheriff Victor replied flatly, “but as an officer of the law, I must consider every possibility… no matter how impossible that possibility may be.” He then returned to his paperwork, leaving Jason standing there, feeling very awkward, unsure of what to do or say.

  “Um, well, thanks anyways… I guess,” Jason sighed, feeling frustrated.

  “Oh no, thank you, Jason,” the sheriff said without looking up as he stapled a stack of papers together.

  Thank you? What would Sheriff Victor be thanking him for? Jason wasn’t sure why he was finding it so annoying but, regardless, it was still annoying. Maybe that was the sheriff’s only intent… to make him worry.

  Jason stepped outside and stood for a moment. He was coming to realize something; he was alone… completely, utterly alone. No family. No friends. No one to help sort through this mess. He began scanning through his recent calls for
Dr. Throckmorton’s number. Even if the doctor was not a friend or family, maybe he’d be willing to meet.

  He found the number and pressed the call button. It rang several times before going to voicemail. Jason let out a big sigh as he put the phone back in his pocket. His last resource had failed. It seemed that even a psychiatrist didn’t want anything to do with this much crazy.

  As Jason stepped out into the street, he felt his phone begin vibrating against his leg moments before it began to ring. He looked at the number. Yes! It was Tomas. Trying to pull himself together a bit and contain his excitement, he opened the phone.

  “Hey Tomas,” he greeted, giving an unexcited voice his best shot. “Thanks for calling me back.” He sighed. “I, um, I just have a lot of questions floating around in my head, and since, you know, you’re the expert on heads, I was hoping to, um, meet and chat with you again.”

  “Sure Jason,” the doctor replied. “Whatever I can do to help. I didn’t sleep much last night thinking about what happened at the park and the part I played in it all. I will do everything I can do to help you Jason… free of charge.”

  “Thanks Tomas,” Jason said, and as he spoke he felt a warmth began to grow on the inside. Finally – someone who understood and cared. If Jason didn’t know better, he would have thought he was about to cry, but that couldn’t be. He’d given that up long ago.

  “I tell you what,” Jason continued, forcing a steady voice, “how about I buy you a cup of coffee. Where’s your favorite coffee shop and when do you want to meet?” Jason was holding his breath, waiting for an answer. Please let it be soon. Please let it be soon.

  “That little place on Main Street is fine. Let’s see, I think it’s called Solar Roast Coffee; they actually use the sun to roast coffee.” He paused, as if realizing he was getting off subject. “And anytime will work for me,” he added.

  Jason wanted to lift his hands and shout “halleluiah.” He had his meeting and, though it was a small note at the moment, he loved that coffee house and the homegrown ingenuity it took to create a coffee roaster using only the sun and mirrors. “That would be great,” he spoke, trying to contain his excitement. “Um, anytime would work for me, too.” Jason wanted to slap himself. No, anytime wouldn’t work. “Now, um, now would be best,” he said, knowing how pathetically helpless he sounded.

  “Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be there,” the doctor promised.

  - - - - - -

  The door swung open, causing Jason to look up anxiously from his table, like he’d done possibly twenty times before, in hopes of seeing the doctor enter. Nope. Not unless the doctor had morphed into a young woman overnight. He let out a big sigh. What on earth could be taking that doctor so long? They had agreed on fifteen minutes. That had been – Jason lit up his phone to see how much time had elapsed since their conversation – seventeen minutes ago! Something must have happened!

  His mind began to do the snowball effect. What if the kidnappers had bugged Jason’s phone? What if there was a clue that Jason and the doctor could piece together between them, and the bad guys overheard their plans to meet and talk and decided to kidnap the doctor, too? Or worse yet, kill him!

  Knowing the doctor was his last hope, Jason pulled out his phone but wasn’t sure if he should call the doctor or the police. The doctor! Check to see if he’s okay. Jason’s mind was in overdrive and the little snowball was bringing down an avalanche of possibilities in his mind as he pushed the little green button… with a phone shape on it… the one for calling people… then pushed it again and again. It wasn’t going through! The kidnappers must have turned the doctor’s phone off!

  Jason kept punching the call button, time and time again, until finally a firm hand was placed upon his shoulder. He yelped like a frightened puppy and jumped sideways in his chair, turning, trying to face his “attacker.” It was the doctor.

  “Tomas?” Jason asked in a bewildered tone.

  The doctor stood stunned in silence for several seconds before stammering, “Um, yes. Who were you expecting? The bogeyman?” The doctor’s phone began to ring. Without dropping his bewildered gaze from Jason, he pulled the phone from his pocket and placed it to his ear. “Hello, this is Dr. Throckmorton,” he spoke. “Hello?” he spoke again. It seemed that no one was there. After a moment, the doctor took the phone from his ear and looked at it. “Jason,” he spoke with a question in his tone, “why are you calling me?”

  Jason somehow scrapped the fragments of his scattered brain back together and began looking for his phone. There it was… under the table where he had apparently discarded it in the midst of all the chaos. He retrieved it, hanging up before saying, “Sorry,” in a tone that showed how badly he wished everyone in the cafe would quit staring at him. They acted like they’d never seen someone get caught off guard before. “I was calling to check on you. You were running late.”

  “By two minutes,” Tomas exclaimed after looking at his watch.

  “I was afraid something had happened to you,” Jason argued defensively.

  “What could go wrong in two minutes?” Tomas asked, still bewildered.

  Jason thought back on the previous night. From the time that he’d meet the three guys in the park until they had dragged his wife away from him was probably about two minutes. “A lot,” he replied.

  Tomas nodded his head in understanding. “Anyways,” he said, breaking past the awkwardness in their conversation. “I am buying. What would you like?”

  Jason started to argue, but the doctor was already standing and, to tell the truth, it felt good to have someone showing signs of kindness. He turned and gazed at the menu for a few seconds. He had been so worried about the doctor being late that he had forgotten to decide on what to drink. “Just a cup of coffee,” he sighed, turning back the doctor. “Doesn’t matter what. All the coffee’s good here… and thanks,” he added.

  “Yes sir,” Tomas replied then went to stand in line. A short time later, he returned with two steaming cups of coffee. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a smile, “but I had them make yours decaf. I do believe you’re skittish enough as it is.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Jason agreed with a half-hearted chuckle.

  Jason’s earlier actions had drawn too much attention to them, so the topic of Misty’s kidnapping would have to wait. There was a little spot where those who desired to do so could go sit outside. Jason eyed the spot longingly, wishing to get away from the questioning looks that were being cast his way.

  “I tell you what,” Tomas said as he handed Jason a cup, “it is a beautiful day. Let’s go sit outside.”

  Jason looked out again. The weather sucked. It was overcast and windy. But Tomas was right. He was ready to leave the scene he had created, so it was a beautiful day outside. He stood and they went out to a nice quite corner where no disturbance was likely to occur.

  “I’m really sorry to bother you, Tomas,” Jason apologized after they’d sat down, “especially after the underhanded method I used to talk you into this, but you’re the only one who knows the whole truth, so you’re really the only one I can discuss this with openly.” He paused. “Oh yes… that and no one else wants anything to do with me.”

  The doctor just sat quietly and listened as Jason continued. “I went to the police station and gave the description of the kidnappers to the sketch artist. They’ve identified the kid who attacked me but won’t tell me a thing.” Jason looked down at his drink, rapped his knuckles on the table and shook his head in frustration.

  Tomas was silent for a moment before speaking. “I might be able to give some assistance there.”

  Jason’s head jerked up and a question come into his eyes. “Seriously?” he asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

  “Don’t get too excited just yet,” the doctor advised, “but I do have a few friends in high places. I helped get you into this mess, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out. Let me see what I can find out.” With that he stood and walked
a short distance away and placed his phone to his ear, his back turned to Jason.

  Jason didn’t like being excused from the conversation, but if it meant getting somewhere in his pursuit for information on his wife’s kidnappers, he would have been willing to stick his fingers in his ears and sing la-la-la-la-la.

  After several minutes, the doctor returned to the table with a satisfied look on his face. Jason sat there almost shaking from anticipation, like a dog trying to sit still and wait for his master to throw his ball again. He almost lost it when Tomas took a sip of his drink. Regardless of how good it was, it could wait. The doctor set his cup down and gave a sigh of contentment. Jason could see that he was enjoying his little game. That seemed kind of cruel considering the circumstances.

  Finally, the doctor spoke with a triumphant smile on his face. “The one who did this to you,” he said motioning towards Jason’s battered face, “his name is Isaac Ramirez. We don’t have an address on him, but we do on his father, and Isaac is young enough that he may still live there.”

  “How young is he?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “So where does his family live?”

  “My contact tells me on the other side of Pikes Peak.”

  “What town?”

  “The Cripple Creek area,” Tomas replied.

  “Can you give me the address?” Jason asked. He was willing to fall down on his hands and knees and beg or throw a temper tantrum, if that’s what it took to get the address.

  “I can do you one better,” Tomas replied. “I’ll drive you out there.” Jason began to protest at the unnecessary offer. It was very nice of the doctor, but he didn’t want to ask too much at one time. He wanted to save some back for a rainy day just in case he ever was to need Tomas’s expertise again.

  Before he could object, the doctor raised his hand. “I’m afraid, Jason, that I am as much a part of this as you are. I was there at the beginning of this mess, and I’ll be right there beside you when it comes to an end. Let’s go catch a kidnapper.”